Rest in peace, Justin Chearno.
Listening to his name ring out in every conversation around me here at Le Verre Volé in Paris, a restaurant which was more like a cathedral to him, a shrine where he was both worshipper and deity, I remember my friend and the great gifts he gave me. Everything tasted better with Justin at my side. I felt smarter, stronger, and cooler. So did everyone around him. Losing him is like losing one of your senses; it’s just suddenly that much harder to interpret the world around me. I miss him.
— 4 months ago
Al Doyle
Gentle, herby, balanced. Very good. — a month ago