Posted on April 16, 2014 by Danielle Elliot in The Week The Week, By Danielle Elliot On the second Wednesday of each month, in the damp pre-dawn hours generally reserved for the city’s late-night revelers, David Garcelon rises for the day. By five o’clock, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black apron tied on and coffee in hand, he takes his place as sous chef at St. Bart’s soup kitchen.
