The “Chef” and the Butcher

Once when we were talking to the local butcher, my wife joked that I was her personal chef.  I said I wasn’t a chef, but I think somehow it’s stuck, and now every time we go in he wants my opinion on how I’d cook various unusual pieces of meat.  I once cooked something reasonably complicated and took it back for him to try (at his request), and I can’t help but think this cemented his idea of me working as a chef.

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