If I See That Damn Hotdog with Caviar and Gold Again, It May Be The End of Me
Thank God They Got Back to the Drawing Board with the Gold Digger
Editor’s Note: Don’t call me a hater, but I’ve always felt that eating a hotdog in public is rather phallic.
So, as you know - my life is a myriad journey of stories. And collecting friendships around the world. So I want to preface this hot take by sharing that this is by no means a FU to the viral epicurean spot Chevre, which I actually featured in my column in Aventura Magazine recently. Nor is it an intended insult to its founder Mario, whose wedding I actually crashed in Panama a long, long time ago with my ‘brother’ Kenny Baboun. But it’s rather a little piece on the ad nauseam images that have been circulating on all of our social media accounts over the past few months.
I must admit that a few months back when this golden situation hit the cyber world at a rather fast pace in honor of The Miami Open, I asked Chevre’s PR guru Mike Hicks to host me to try the ‘Golden Glizzy’ alongside my fearless cousin Danielle of Old Miami, who claims she once did somethi…
