I really need to get myself a personal chef.
Stoudemire has his own chef (Max Hardy), a guy who won over Stoudemire with a midnight feast of lobster. As Stoudemire has explored his spiritual roots the past year, the chef has moved to making more and more kosher food. Stuff that sounds better than the warmed-over chicken I just had for lunch.
Now Hardy buys kosher beef and chicken and avoids pork—though there are allowances. “If Amar’e had a good game, he might want crab legs, or maybe lobster macaroni and cheese.”
One thing that never varies is Stoudemire’s commitment to eating healthfully during the week and living it up a bit on weekends. When he was growing up in Florida, he recalls, “my aunt always cooked a huge meal on Sundays. I want to keep that tradition alive here. So on Sundays, Chef Max lays it all out, and a bunch of friends come over. We call it Soul Food Sundays.”
This particular evening, Hardy is making cornmeal-dusted catfish with tomato grits and sweet potato waffles with buttermilk fried chicken.
Again, I need to get myself a personal chef. And a massive apartment in New York, while I’m at it.
This story highlights why Stoudemire came to NYC — the life of a Knick when the team is good is about as sweet as it gets. Guys with vineyards swing by for dinner and bring their good stuff. Phoenix is a fine city, but it’s just not the same. Stoudemire is enjoying life at the top.
If the Knicks struggle out of the gate this season, he’ll learn about the other side of New York, too.