That lovely ode to the culinary arts lives on 45th between Broadway and 6th Ave. But, much like the Mona Lisa in the Louvre, I'm sure he's often plagued by crowds of people just clamoring to have a look at his elusive facial tics.
So the artist who created him bowed down to the public's wishes. And on 44th between Broadway and 6th Ave., gave us this:
You can tell by the cleaner apron and crisp white shirt, that this work dates to a later portion of the artist's Lazy Eye Chef period.
Any restaurant that is lucky enough to have this guy standing sentinel outside of it gets five stars in my book, DTS's Guide to Fine Dining and Visual Mindfuckery: Times Square Edition. I'm thinking of marketing it as an alternative to Zagat's, those commie bastards.
Like the Mona Lisa, I wonder if the Lazy Eye Chef has at any point been stolen by patriotic Italian citizens, wishing to return the treasure to the country from whence it came...
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