I Married Him For His Bread

"If you pick your men like you pick your food then, your life is going to suck" -a Jfizzle and MSizzle original

Remember when you were a kid sittin' at a picnic table with a whole smorgasbord of food in front of you, smackin your lips and rubbin your hands. You grab a plate and start at one end of the table and work your way up to the rolls. As you are sittin there, lickin your fingers and sippin your kool-aid,  you look up at your brother or sister and exclaim, "Dang, this is sooo  good, I wanna marry it!"

I'm all grown up now and times really haven't changed much for me. I married a chef. He is from Palermo, Sicily.
I met him in a little restaurant on Route 60 in Richmond, a.k.a. Williamsburg Road , almost 14 years ago. He was a Chef at Carini's Italian Restaurant.  He's was a big flirt and we had fun going over a mutual friend's house after work.

Almost 14 years later, my husband and I own a restaurant. We opened in 2008 and  he's been cooking up a lot of magic in the kitchen at Francesco's Ristorante Italiano.  Ironically, its located on Route 60 on Richmond Road in Williamsburg, Va!  Same road, but opposite ends!  We fluctuate from 1st and 2nd place on TripAdvisor. Our first year in business, we won 1st place for Best New Restaurant  for the Best OF Williamsburg and 2nd place as Best New Business.

 Francesco bakes all of his own breads, makes all of his own sauces and doughs and has over 100+ items on the menu to choose from.  Everytime I eat there, it takes me back to that day at the picnic table. I might not have been able to marry my food, but I did get to marry my husband.  I guess you can say I DID marry him for his bread.

Phizzlophacy by J-Fizzle