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God is My Sous Chef
Inside the Superstitious World of D.C. Restaurant Opening Rituals
Posted on May 23, 2012 by Jessica Sidman Washington City Paper
The giant pot is screaming hot when Pete Smith grabs it and runs out the kitchen door. “Look out,” shouts the chef of Penn Quarter’s PS7 ’s.
Smith swirls the contents—rosemary, thyme, garlic, lemongrass, star anise, and half a dozen other herbs and spices simmering in oil—as he makes a lap past the bar and around some low-lying tables in the restaurant’s lounge. An aromatic trail of smoke and steam follows as he races down the hall, past the host stand, and around every corner in theempty 130-seat dining room.
That’s how you please the restaurant gods.