The feel-good reality show of the season, The Chef Jeff Project (Sundays at 10pm, check your cable listings) is, after one episode, pure kittens and rainbows. Though it may not perfect, and it can be a little rough on the heart strings, I love the fact that there’s even a show like The Chef Jeff Project, especially on the Food Network.I believe that the restaurant kitchen is one of the last great meritocracies, a shining example of the American Dream. If you focus and work hard and smart, you can go from dishwasher to head chef. Seriously, it’s real Pretty Woman kinda shit. The restaurant business saved my life, and I worked hard to get where I am and know what I know. That’s why I get extremely irritated when people ask me, “Did you go to school for that?” (Don’t get me started.) And that’s why Chef Jeff makes me all verklempt. In this day of froufrou food engineered for the bourgeoisie, it just plain makes me giddy that millions of suburban housewives might stop and think in between sips of their ice tea about who’s serving and cooking their food. Everyone’s spouting the “farm to table” mantra, but I’d like to see us talking less about pastoral romance and more about WHO takes that food from farm to table. More food empathy, less food porn.