As Rocco DiSpirito scoots into a banquette next to me, I ask if he minds if I tape-record the interview. "Not at all," he says as a cameraman aims his video rifle at us and another crewman lowers a boom mike over our table. "Do you mind if I record your recording?"
I do, kind of--Do I look reporterly? Is that olive oil on my sleeve?--but DiSpirito, 36, is the kind of star chef who is as accustomed to the heat of floodlights as to that of a 30,000-BTU burner. Bedroom-eyed and sporting a dusting of stubble, DiSpirito runs Union Pacific,...
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