Tonight is about connection,not content.
Cook. Laugh. Be present.
No filming. No kid faces. No posting.
— Values over visibility
I stareat those words and feel something crack in my chest.
Values over visibility.
That used to be my nightmare. The thing that killed my career. The algorithm didn’t care about my values. It cared about views and engagement and whether I could make people stop scrolling. It prioritized slop over value.
And now we havethisprinted on cardstock and taped to a wall like a mission statement.
“You good?” Sabrina asks, catching my expression.
“Yeah.” I blink hard. “Just, that note. It’s perfect. You’re a breath of fresh air.”
“It’s true.” She adjusts Mia on her hip. “I spent years chasing metrics for other people. Never again. This work you’re doing? It matters more than any viral moment ever could.”
Before I can respond, families start arriving. Staff members from Marco’s restaurants, mostly. A line cook fromOsteria Fiorewith her seven-year-old son. André from front-of-house with his niece. Matteo the culinary director with his daughter who’s maybe six and already has opinions about proper knife technique.
And then there’s Ethan, my ridiculous brother, carrying a bright red duffel bag and grinning like he’s about to perform surgery in the middle of a cooking class.
“Where do you want me?” he asks.
“Literally anywhere that’s not in my way,” I reply.
He laughs and sets up in the corner, pulling out a CPR dummy and an adult-sized choking vest. “Five minutes, I promise. Then you can have your kitchen back.”
Marco appears in the doorway.
And my entire nervous system forgets how to function.
He’s in a black Henley. Again. Does he own anything else? The fabric stretches across his shoulders and chest in a way that should be banned in professional settings. His dark hair is slightly mussed like he’s been running his hands through it. Those hands that were all over me forty-eight hours ago.
Stop staring at his hands, Jess.
Stop thinking about his hands.
Definitely stop remembering what those hands did to your—
Our eyes meet across the room.
His expression doesn’t change. Completely neutral. Professional. But something in his gaze makes my stomach flip and my face burn and my underwear situation immediately become a problem.
He nods once. Then moves to check on Ben, who’s already at a station with Frederick propped beside her cutting board.
I force myself to focus.
“Okay everyone!” My voice comes out surprisinglysteady. “Welcome to the first Family Meal Monday. We’re keeping it super simple tonight. Brave Kitchen basics. Breath, taste, name.”
The kids look at me with varying degrees of interest and terror.
“Before we start,” I continue, “my brother Ethan is going to do a quick safety demo. Because choking is real in any situation involving food and eating and we should all know what to do if it happens.”
Ethan steps forward with his paramedic energy fully activated. “Hey everyone. I’m going to make this fast and not scary, I promise.”
