It all started many, many years ago in my Italian Grandmother’s Connecticut kitchen. I was three and couldn’t stuff the 20 pound turkey perfectly so I threw it on the floor. My father who stood by and watched my tantrum knew I would someday have a career as a chef. Yes it’s true, most chefs are quite temperamental. And sort of dysfunctional.
Welcome to Big City Kitchen. I’m Amanda, personal chef by day, frustrated creative type by night.
I concocted this website to vent and welcome total strangers into my life.
My illustrious cooking career began when I attended culinary school and quickly discovered it wasn’t for me. I went on to apprentice in a few impressive kitchens, eventually running some of them, then somehow found my way to San Francisco and never looked back. I don’t claim to know everything about cooking so please don’t email me and tell me I suck. This blog is an experiment of sorts.
I share a small piece of San Francisco real estate with two young daughters, a scruffy lactose intolerant husband, two cats and two rescue dogs from Taiwan.
I prefer most things organic (even underwear) and have an obsession with photography, travel of any sort, music, champagne, and many other things that probably wouldn’t interest you.
I take all the photographs on this site, unless otherwise noted, so please don’t steal them. I’m quite handy with a knife, so please ask first.