Welcome to "Chef's Corner," Daniel Asher's monthly blog, where he delves into the intricate world of food, restaurants, distributors, and all things Foodservice. Daniel is a chef and restaurant owner + the head of strategic relationships & hospitality at Cut+Dry.
Goodbye, March. Hello, April. I’m not entirely sure how that went by so fast—like an EV in sport mode, pedal smashed to the floor, scenery blurring into a streak of light. March always brings with it a mix of renewal and urgency. It’s my birthday month, and every year around this time I try to pause and take stock of things—kind of like doing restaurant inventory. What’s still good? What needs to go? What am I overstocked on that I should’ve cleared out long ago? I go back to my notes from the year before and take inventory of my intentions—what goals I hit, what I missed entirely, and which ones I didn’t even see coming. Some years feel like a rollercoaster I chose to ride with my eyes closed, arms raised, trusting gravity and grit to do their thing. Other years feel more like a slow climb—one click at a time, uphill, grinding toward something I can almost—but not quite—see.
There’s a feeling that settles into me every spring. A kind of restlessness, like I’m running out of time to do all the things I want to do. Time and I have always had a complicated relationship. There’s never enough of it, and I always want more. I get so focused on what’s still ahead, what I haven’t done, the unfinished, the unstarted—that I forget to pause and give thanks. So this year, I’m trying to be more intentional. Less hustle, more gratitude. Less “what’s next?” and more “look how far we’ve come.”
March is also my kiddo’s birthday month, which gives me another layer of reflection. Watching one of our beautiful little humans grow another year older, blow out candles with all the hope and wonder in the world—that hits different. It gives me a new frame for how fast time moves. Their growth is like a metronome for my own awareness. We did a family brunch at The Greenbriar Inn, this gorgeous, 100+ year-old property that’s been feeding people since the 1960s. That space, that hospitality—it reminded me of what it feels like to be taken care of. To be a guest. There’s something sacred about sitting at a table with the people you love most in someone else’s dining room and being served a meal by someone who puts their heart into it. The beauty of being present, of sharing food and joy and laughter—that’s what stays with you. That’s what fills you up. Supporting local restaurants isn’t just a good idea—it’s essential. It’s how we stay rooted. It’s how we keep our communities vibrant and human. Restaurants are where we celebrate, mourn, catch up, fall in love, mark milestones. They are the beating heart of our neighborhoods.
Later in March, I had the chance to reconnect with another part of myself—my inner dinosaur nerd. We visited the Denver Museum of Nature & Science and learned about the life and times of an adolescent T-Rex. This particular fossil was discovered by some adventurous kids in the fossil-rich hills of North Dakota, and it’s only the fourth “teen rex” ever found. The exhibit was incredible, but what really moved me was the 3D film we watched about the evolution of the T-Rex. It was stunning, immersive, and unexpectedly nostalgic. I was transported back to my own childhood, when I was obsessed with dinosaurs and would spend hours reading about them, drawing them, dreaming about digging up fossils in some far-off land. There’s something magical about rediscovering an old passion, something you thought you’d outgrown but was really just waiting for you to come back. The whole experience was a gentle reminder that time moves fast, but that doesn’t mean we can’t loop back and touch the past now and then. Sometimes, the most unexpected moments can be the ones that open your heart.
From prehistoric oceans to present-day seafood, the next stop on the whirlwind that was March was SENA—the amazing Boston Seafood Show. Our Cut+Dry team was in full force: Jimmy, Nick, Karl, Kevin, Jordan and I had an absolute blast running our booth, reconnecting with old friends, and making new ones. It’s one of those events that really reinforces the sense of camaraderie in this industry. The seafood business, in particular, has this deep-rooted heritage. So many legacy companies, generations of family working side by side, all tethered to the tides—literally and figuratively. The conversations we had at SENA spanned everything from aquaculture innovations and wild-caught limitations, to the ongoing challenges of climate change, shifting political boundaries, global trade dynamics, and consumer education. Everyone’s trying to figure out how to serve a growing demand while honoring a finite resource. It’s like threading a needle in a storm—complex, emotional, and absolutely essential.
Margins in this business are tighter than ever. The work is harder, the pressure more intense. And yet, there’s still such a spark—so much pride, resilience, and ingenuity. Walking through the booths, taking in the craftsmanship and care, made me feel hopeful. It reminded me that behind every fish fillet or oyster platter is a whole network of people who care deeply. We got to connect with so many amazing partners and friends—Floribbean, Hook 2 Fork, Fortune, Mar Andino, DiCarlo, JJ McDonnell, Sierra, Summit Culinary, Liberty, Starfish, Seattle Fish, and countless others. We celebrated together, too. The NFI Future Leaders Alumni party was a hit, and Fortune’s industry party at Moxies Seaport was a night to remember. Huge thanks to the Moxies team for their killer hospitality.
We also had the privilege of dining at Chickadee—Chef John DaSilva’s team blew us away with a top-tier meal, and I have to shout out his James Beard nomination—so well deserved. We closed out one of our nights at our VIP happy hour at Krasi, where the brilliant team at Xenia Hospitality and Wine Director Jeremiah Cates treated us to an unforgettable journey. Varietals I’d never seen before, pairings that danced perfectly with the food—it was a masterclass in hospitality. Boston itself left a deep impression. Standing on the wooden pier at Long Wharf, which was constructed in the early 1700s and served as the heart of Eastern maritime trade for over 150 years—it’s humbling. You feel the weight of history under your feet. So many lives, journeys, and meals started right there on that stretch of timber.
Back home, the UniPro Fall Conference was another highlight of the month. These gatherings remind me just how vast and interconnected our independent distribution network truly is. Our team had an incredible time building relationships, sharing ideas, and pushing the industry forward. One of the best moments? The murder mystery dinner we hosted. It was hilarious, absurd, and so much fun. Nothing like a little amateur sleuthing to build camaraderie and make memories. Then came the Colorado Restaurant Show, always a personal favorite. I love seeing how this community continues to evolve, support one another, and show up. We had our quarterly Chefs Alliance meeting, hosted by the CRA and the one-and-only Rich Schneider—the Titan of Tortillas. We sampled Brunson Meat Co’s insanely good dry-aged beef, savored all the artisan goodness at Italco’s display, and slurped oysters with the unstoppable What Chefs Want crew. It was a who’s-who of our vibrant culinary scene: Denise Mickelson, Kate Kaufman, Biker Jim, David Mooseman, Ian Navarro, Andrew Lubatty, Chef Taj Cooke, Thuan La… the list goes on. These people are the soul of our industry. Passionate, creative, resilient. We show up for each other. We collaborate, innovate, and occasionally share a drink while dreaming up the next big idea. I don’t take it for granted. It fuels me.
March was full. Full of movement, reflection, laughter, and connection. And as I look ahead to April, I’m choosing to carry that fullness with me—not as a weight, but as a gift. Because that’s what it is. Every conversation, every meal, every spark of inspiration—it adds up to a life lived with purpose. And that, more than anything, is worth being grateful for. So here’s to another season of growth. Here’s to the restaurant teams grinding it out every day. Here’s to the distributors and chefs and dreamers and doers. And here’s to the reminder that optimism, like gratitude, is a choice—a practice. One I’ll keep showing up for, day after day.
Love, Daniel.