By Mike Sain't Louis ·
Veneno: a chef splattered in red in an industrial kitchen
The kitchen is clean. Gleaming steel pots, extractor hoods, the warm light of a restaurant about to open. The only thing out of place is the cook.
He wears a tall hat and a white chef's jacket, fastened with black buttons, but splattered all over with red. On his neck, too. And he looks at the camera with a calm that gives you chills, like someone who has just finished a job well done.
With the title Veneno (Poison) above, in red letters, the cover looks like the poster for a culinary thriller. Something is cooking here, and it's certainly not a stew.
I like the idea of the kitchen as a place of revenge. It's an intimate place, a place of care, where you prepare what someone else will put in their mouth trusting you. That's why poison is so shocking: it's the most domestic betrayal there is.
Listen to it, and that day don't taste anything you're served.