It was the $800 Uber Eats delivery.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Private chef Andrew Molen had just picked up a call from a regular client, who\u2019d emerged in a panic from the wine cellar of his tony NYC home, hoping to pop up a particular bottle of Champagne when friends arrived \u2014 only to find none there.<\/p>\n
\u201cI called all the liquor stores I could and finally found one in New Jersey that had it,\u201d the chef recalled. \u201cAnd I got it delivered.\u201d<\/p>\n
Molen is more than a diamond-tier Door Dasher \u2014\u00a0he\u2019s a classically trained chef who swapped restaurant life with the likes of Todd English for private cooking, often out in the Hamptons. <\/p>\n
Andrew Molen is one in an army of private chefs serving in the homes of the elite in NYC and environs \u2014\u00a0a job that offers a view into a world most people never experience. Courtesy Andrew Molen<\/p>\n
If the name\u2019s familiar at all, you probably saw him on Bravo\u2019s \u201cSummer House.\u201d <\/a><\/p>\n \u201cCarl and Lindsay were breaking up in the background,\u201d he laughed about that memorable point in his career. \u201cYou can have a good time doing what you love, watching two people\u2019s relationships go down the tube.\u201d<\/p>\n Cooking for boldfacer clients, of course, you\u2019re immersed in the action but often overlooked. <\/p>\n Private chefs to New York\u2019s fanciest families witness whatever happens behind closed doors, and must always be discreet to the point of silence \u2014 at least, usually. Sometimes, they\u2019re witnesses to such strange goings-on, it\u2019s impossible not to dish.<\/p>\n There\u2019s what Laurie Woolever could call the Reddy Whip Affair. She\u2019d scored a fat-free version of the canned cream at the market for her employer, and was psyched \u2014 wealthy and health-obsessed, they\u2019d be delighted, she knew, as she stashed it in the fridge. <\/p>\n The next day, though, she couldn\u2019t find it anywhere \u2014 at least, until she asked the housekeeper, who\u2019d found it, completely emptied, in the bedroom waste paper basket. Please keep it in stock, the couple said, via their assistant. \u201cI was buying it every day,\u201d she says, pausing, \u201cAnd every day, it was emptied.\u201d<\/p>\n The only issue came a few weeks later, as the couple started noticing they were gaining weight, despite their exacting diet: could it be the new kink they\u2019d introduced<\/a> into their night-time routine? <\/p>\n While private chefs are typically silent about their work, sometimes, there are stories too good not to dish. Anna Petrow \u2013 stock.adobe.com<\/p>\n Take one to a lab for testing; they ordered Woolever, in case it was fraudulently labeled.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t remember which came first: this or the storyline from Seinfeld<\/a>,\u201d she laughs, of the memorable episode when Kramer & crew wound up fretting over supposedly fat-free frozen yogurt. <\/p>\n Sure enough, the results came back, showing that there were trace amounts of fat in each serving; an entire can, then, was calorie-packed. Their pleasure wasn\u2019t worth the poundage \u2014\u00a0and they soon packed in that in-private indulgence.<\/p>\n Woolever parlayed experiences like that as a private chef into a role as Anthony Bourdain\u2019s right-hand woman (and turned stories like that one into a memoir called \u201cCare and Feeding<\/a>\u201c).<\/p>\n Not everyone has that kind of success \u2014\u00a0New York and its more well-heeled environs are home to an army of behind-the-scenes talents cooking in the kitchens of the ultra-wealthy, dicing and slicing while living on a knife-edge. <\/p>\n Author Laurie Woolever recalled a time when her attempt to keep her clients on their diet enabled a little too much fun in the bedroom. David Scott Holloway<\/p>\n And even though full-time gigs like this might offer paydays of $200,000 or more, plus healthcare and benefits, few can weather the intense schedules and absurd demands for long.<\/p>\n \u201cPlenty of private chefs dip their toe into that space, but there is so much turnover \u2014 you\u2019re always trying to ingratiate yourself,\u201d one chef told The Post \u2014\u00a0speaking on condition of anonymity, which many are bound by, either informally out of a desire to keep their jobs, or legally via non-disclosure agreements.<\/p>\n \u201cPeople walk away because of the way they\u2019re treated,\u201d said another, asking not to be named. \u201cI\u2019d say the quitting to firing is 30:1.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n The budget to feed a family of four<\/a> among the one percenters will typically hit $7,000 a week, say veteran kitchen jockeys.<\/p>\n Chefs can often spend thousands per week just keeping the fridges and pantries stocked \u2014\u00a0and there\u2019s no guarantee the food will actually get eaten. luca \u2013 stock.adobe.com<\/p>\n