In my early formative years as an incipient chef, I work in a basement kitchen in the New Orleans Square at Disneyland, California. It was an inauspicious beginning to a life-long career as a chef. Some of my earliest duties included operating a meat slicer for hours followed by preparing hundreds of sandwiches. Occasionally, like Quasimoto, I emerged to help with a small food kiosk that sold beverages, frozen chocolate-nut covered bananas and huge beignets. I would walk with a tray of fresh out-of -the fryer batch of baseball-sized beignets and the masses would follow like I was a pied piper of carb junkies.