It's great when you have friends who can cook, but it sucks when you refuse to do the dishes, and no longer have friends who can cook. Wait, yes you do: Spencer's Pantry.
SP's the fledgling catering and cooking class biz of one Scott Spencer, a gregariously badass local chef who's stinted at top spots like Boulevard and Spruce but would rather go it alone, and to help his outfit take flight, he'll come to your house to cook, teach, n' hang out for nothing but the cost of food, plus when it's all over he'll clean everything up and beat you at arm wrestling. Seriously. The guy can cook it all, from highfalutin action like duck egg yolk pasta with lobster beurre fondue, to delectable Asian-ness like crispy sea bass over daikon/carrots/shelled peas dressed in mint/cilantro/rice vinegar, to stoner delights like pork belly buns with hoisin sauce, sriracha, and crunchy "quick pickles", also the only kind of pickle Dad'll play ever since he married Debbie, and they had a new son. At dinner parties (of up to ten peeps), Scott'll serve up five killer courses, and while he's happy to take direction, his best work comes when he just improvises and "cooks the f*ck out of you"; classes accommodate up to 15 hands-on pupils, and range from pasta making, to sushi making, to basic knife and kitchen skills -- cut off your finger and See Scott Run.
When asked what he hopes to get out of all this, Scott responded "hopefully some sugar mama wearing knickers answers the door in the Piedmont Hills with nobody home", which'll be great for Scott, but who's going to do the dishes?? Oh, right. Scott.
