I walked down to the farmer’s market this morning to get a pizza. There’s a booth that sells pizza, and you can’t get it anywhere but at the farmer’s market. So, I waited for half an hour for my pie, watching as the guy slowly burned the shit out of it before tossing it in a box and calling my name.

All I could think about was that scene from Chef when Carl scolds his kid for burning the Cubano and trying to serve it anyway. Where did standards and pride in craftsmanship go?