It was a fluke. Six degrees of separation, really: my college boyfriend’s soccer coach’s wife’s niece was dating a really nice guy who was a chef, and he had made them a delicious Greek salad for dinner one night. I was in school at the CIA, looking for an externship. They suggested I call him, since he had just opened his own restaurant and might want the extra help. I thought it couldn’t hurt to talk to the guy; he had worked at Erwin, one of my favorite restaurants, and if nothing else he could help me get an interview there.