The club was a band of believers, sisters and brothers united in excellence—not merry pranksters, not a ragtag assemblage of misfits or whatever the going chef stereotype used to be, but a fierce, focused crew, akin to the NASA ground-control team in Apollo 13. If Redzepi was texting you, it meant that he thought your input was valuable. If he was texting you, it meant that you were valuable, or at least it felt that way.
