Medicine Cabinet Stylist. Closet Gymnast. Zen Master of the Scrambled Egg. Join Kitchensurfing’s Chris Muscarella for breakfast at his Carroll Gardens apartment.
“I love the morning. I get some mental space to myself before I get hijacked by the outside world.”
Chris Muscarella is pacing around the living room of his Carroll Gardens apartment. Even though he’s just woken up and still wearing his pajamas, he hums with energy. “I love the morning,” he says as he shuffles across the wood floor. “I get some mental space to myself before I get hijacked by the outside world.”
Muscarella is the founder of Kitchensurfing, a catering service for millennial and millennial-minded folks. For a fraction of the cost of dinner at a restaurant, Kitchen Surfing sends chefs directly into New Yorker’s homes to cook them meals. “I got involved with food five or six years ago, mainly for fun,” Chris says, standing in the doorway to his own kitchen. “And since my background is in technology, and I’m a nerd, I started thinking, ‘hey, food is cool, let’s put some technology into it.’” He goes on: “You have all these talented cooks out there and all these people that wanted to eat… what if restaurants didn’t have to exist?”
Chris starts his morning by grinding beans for coffee. “We have a pour over station at Kitchensurfing, so I’ve come to prefer that method.” He smiles. “The process forces people to talk to each other. [They] have to mind their coffee. They can’t just walk away.” He finishes brewing and walks to the living room where he scrolls through his phone – moving back and forth from the large couch to a chair situated in the corner. Astral Weeks by Van Morrison is playing on the stereo. He puts his feet on the coffee table. “I prefer a semi-slouch in the morning,” he says as he slides down, into the couch. “It’s important to relax.” People who follow Chris’s Twitter account may be familiar with the link dumps he orchestrates via the app, Instapaper; usually at this hour of the day. “Because I’m catching up all at once,” he explains. “There’s a bit of performance art to the way I bombard [you.]”
After coffee, Chris prepares breakfast – super soft scrambled eggs, black beans and salsa verde. He cracks two eggs. “The breakfast culture in New York is terrible,” he grimaces. “All these sugar bombs. If I ate [pastries] for breakfast, I’d die. I need some protein.” Chris willingly shares his secret for the perfect eggs: “Good scrambled eggs are about patience. You keep the heat on low, add a little butter, and stir the eggs slowly for 8-10 minutes – that’s the secret to that soft, creamy texture. Most people burn the shit out of them…” The eggs arrive as promised and we all dig in. The tangy salsa, earthy beans and creamy eggs are a delicious combination. Unsurprisingly, Chris can cook.
Next up is the rings. Muscarella has hung a pair of gymnastic rings from his closet ceiling, on which he performs “between 25-50” pull-ups before he leaves the house. But the rings in the closet can’t compare to what’s behind Chris’s bathroom mirror –a diorama featuring miniature army men holding up his shaving supplies. “It’s kind of a playful way to ward off snoopers,” he explains. “My friend Brett keeps a jar of hardboiled eggs in his medicine cabinet… this is a little less weird.”
“Good scrambled eggs are about patience.”
Chris tosses on a shirt, worn pants, and clogs and makes his way for the door. But not without one final AM anecdote: “I have a friend who is a graffiti artist. I had her over for dinner one night, and when I came out the next day, she’d drawn a little white heart on the sidewalk outside my door. It makes me happy every single morning.”