All Money Is Not Good Money

When declining a catering inquiry turns into a one-star Yelp review.

So let me tell y’all what happened to me this week…

I randomly decided to go on Yelp and upload some pictures to my business page. Now, I pay Yelp very little attention because, quite frankly, Yelp be tripping.

They say they want reviews to be “organic,” but here’s something I’ve learned after years in the catering business: It doesn’t matter how much your clients loved you, how amazing the food was, or how many times they tell you they’re obsessed with everything you did. Once the excitement of the evening wears off and life starts happening, leaving that review quietly fades into the background.

And I get it. Life happens.

I’ve catered well over 500 events since I started my business full-time in 2018, and only a fraction of those clients have left reviews. When someone is thanking me at the end of an event, I’ll sometimes mention that I’ll send them a Google review link. Even then, plenty of people never get around to it.

But let somebody feel slighted because you declined their event?

Oh, they’ll find the time to write a review!

Which brings me to today’s culprit: Natalie R.

It Started With a Baby Shower Inquiry

On September 10, 2026, Natalie submitted an inquiry through my website regarding a baby shower she and her husband were planning for November 7 in Bronxville, New York.

And let me tell you, I LOVE these types of inquiries.

She provided the date, location, estimated guest count, event style, menu ideas, dietary considerations, and staffing needs. She envisioned a fall-inspired cocktail party with passed hors d’oeuvres, grazing stations, seasonal cocktails, and individual desserts.

It was the kind of inquiry that gives me something to work with.

Unlike those submissions that basically say, “Hi, I’m having an event on Saturday. How much?”

Ma’am or Sir, HOW MUCH FOR WHAT? 😂

With Natalie’s inquiry, I could actually envision the event. I started thinking about the food, the setup, the service, and how I could bring her ideas together.

So I prepared a customized proposal based on 30 guests, including a discounted station package and staffing. I also addressed her dietary concerns and explained that we could adjust the selections as we continued planning.

I was excited about the possibilities.

Natalie responded that she appreciated the proposal but wanted something different. Rather than the more substantial food experience I had envisioned, she preferred a lighter, open-house-style cocktail party. She wanted fewer stations, less starch, and more flexibility around the guest count.

She also had questions about staffing, serving supplies, alcohol quantities, and cancellations.

Fair enough.

That’s what the planning process is for.

I apologized for putting the cart before the horse with my custom menu and sent her my standard cocktail party information. I explained the differences between the original discounted package and the standard cocktail party experience, answered her logistical questions, and invited her to choose the selections she preferred.

At this point, we were still figuring out what kind of event she actually wanted.

And Then Things Got Interesting…

Natalie eventually decided she wanted my Full Cocktail Party Experience, without stations or bartending services.

She asked me to confirm the final rate so she could come back with a yes or no.

Now, I’m going to be honest with y’all.

Something about the exchange had started making me uncomfortable.

I had initially offered what I considered a more substantial experience at a discounted rate, and she kept narrowing things down. That’s her right, of course. But I found it odd. I couldn’t understand why someone would choose less for more.

At one point, I even wondered whether I was being set up or dealing with some kind of scam.

I know. I have quite the imagination. But then again, we’re living in some interesting times. 😂

And when something feels off, I tend to pay attention.

So I decided to be especially detailed in my response.

I confirmed the rate for 30 guests and explained exactly what was included: six passed hors d’oeuvre selections, four mini dessert selections, staffing, setup, service, cleanup, and the necessary serving supplies.

I also outlined the payment options.

I provided the total and explained that I accepted Zelle, Venmo, and credit cards, with a processing fee for credit-card payments.

Because we still had time before the event, I offered to divide the payment into three installments:

• First payment: Upon signing, to secure the date.

• Second payment: October 7.

• Final payment: October 24, two weeks before the event.

Credit-card payment was available for each installment.

For context, my standard business practice is a 50% deposit to reserve the date, with the remaining balance due two weeks before the event. The three-installment option was meant to spread out the payments, not require earlier payment than my usual policy.

I ended my email by explaining that if she wanted to move forward, I would prepare the updated proposal and agreement so we could finalize everything.

Simple enough, right?

Well…

Now, Y’all, What Happened?

Natalie’s next email said:

“Please send the contract across for our review. We will not move forward if it is not satisfactory.”

She continued:

“We are not comfortable paying cash. Three installments isn’t market - it’s half up front and half on the day - not 2/3 up front.”

And then:

“Please also break down the # of passed plates and desserts per guest. The proposal is opaque.”

NOW, Y’ALL, WHAT HAPPENED?

What is my Associate’s-degree-in-Culinary-Arts-and-Management-having ass missing here?

Where did we go left?!

First of all, I had clearly offered credit-card payment. Nobody was requiring cash.

Second, I don’t know who established this universal catering “market” rule that the final payment is due on the day of the event, but that certainly isn’t how my business operates.

I require payment in full two weeks before an event. That’s my policy, and it isn’t negotiable.

And third, we were still in the planning stages. I had already spent time creating a custom proposal, answering questions, adjusting the event format, and explaining the available packages.

Now, let’s talk about this request for a breakdown of how many pieces of food each guest would receive.

If I were Costco, a supermarket like DeCicco’s, or perhaps a drop-off catering company selling trays by the piece, I could understand approaching the pricing that way.

But that’s not what I offer.

I provide a full-service catering experience.

My pricing includes much more than the food itself. It includes menu planning, grocery shopping, preparation, staffing, setup, service, cleanup, and the experience my team and I bring into your home.

I don’t price my cocktail parties by counting individual hors d’oeuvres like someone placing an order at the deli counter.

Could she ask the question? Of course.

But if that’s the kind of pricing structure she needed, perhaps my services weren’t what she was looking for.

And was I obligated to continue the conversation and accept the event?

Absolutely not.

I didn’t like the direction things were going, and at that point, I wanted to find the exit.

Here’s the thing: I don’t need to wait until I’m standing in somebody’s kitchen to decide that a working relationship isn’t a good fit.

So I sent Natalie the following email:

Hi Natalie,

Thank you for taking the time to share your plans and expectations. After giving it some thought, I feel another caterer would be a better fit for the service and payment arrangements you’re looking for, so I’ll respectfully step back from your November 7 event.

I appreciate you considering me and wish you and Christopher a beautiful baby shower and all the best as you welcome your little one.

Warmly,
Chef Jaime Jeffrey

That’s it.

No argument. No insults. No back-and-forth about who’s right.

I simply declined the event.

Natalie responded:

“Yeah I think you’re the wrong fit”

And I went about my life.

Or so I thought.

Fast-Forward to Yelp

On Saturday, October 3, I was minding my business when something told me to go upload some pictures to Yelp.

And that’s when I stumbled across a one-star review from Natalie R.

The review was already 18 days old.

BUYER BEWARE.

That’s how she opened it.

She claimed I wanted to be paid in cash, changed my original payment terms to require two-thirds upfront, and refused to answer her questions about quantities.

She even quoted the email in which I politely declined her event.

Then came the part that really sent me over the edge.

She wrote:

“This is the type of behavior you expect from a fraud operator, not a private chef - I can’t believe how many positive reviews she has.”

WHEW, CHILE!!!

The blood inside me was BOILING.

A fraud operator?

Because I declined your baby shower?

You never signed a contract. You never paid me a dime. I never entered your home or provided you with catering services.

And yet here you are publicly questioning my integrity and casting doubt on reviews from clients who have actually experienced my work.

Now, I’m not saying Natalie wasn’t entitled to be disappointed. She was free to dislike my policies, question my pricing, or decide that I wasn’t the right chef for her event.

But that’s not the same thing as publicly portraying my business as fraudulent.

Natalie’s review was a straight-up LIE.

She quoted my actual email declining her event, but the story she built around that email was misleading and dishonest.

I did not require cash payment. I did not change my policy to demand payment earlier than usual. And I did not refuse to answer her questions during our planning discussions.

I had offered multiple payment methods, including credit cards. I had explained the payment schedule before any agreement was signed. And when it became clear that our expectations weren’t aligned, I respectfully stepped away.

I don’t know what Natalie expected me to do after that, but I certainly didn’t expect to find a review attacking my business weeks later.

And yes, that one-star review brought down my Yelp rating.

Years of work, countless events, happy clients, long days, late nights, and an enormous amount of effort go into building my reputation, which I take very seriously.

To see someone attempt to damage that reputation simply because I chose not to accept their booking?

That hit a nerve.

So I Responded

My first instinct was to show everybody the receipts.

Not my interpretation of the emails.

The actual emails.

I wanted readers to see exactly what was offered, how Natalie responded, and how I declined the event.

Unfortunately, Yelp doesn’t allow business owners to attach screenshots directly to their responses.

So I tried posting the correspondence through my personal Yelp account, with private information redacted.

Well, Yelp eventually placed that post under “Not Currently Recommended,” while the screenshots appeared in my business photo gallery without any explanation.

Imagine visiting a chef’s Yelp page expecting to see beautiful food and catered events, only to find random screenshots of an email exchange.

A hot mess.

So I deleted the photos and rewrote my response.

I also reported Natalie’s review, but Yelp did not remove it. Their position was essentially that reviews can describe a person’s experience with a business, even when no service was ultimately provided.

I understand that people are entitled to share their experiences.

But Natalie chose to lie about mine.

And that’s where I have a problem.

People should be allowed to express dissatisfaction with a business. But when someone misrepresents what happened, especially when the business owner has written documentation showing otherwise, I believe there should be a way to challenge that.

Because this wasn’t just somebody saying they didn’t like my personality or didn’t agree with my pricing.

She publicly characterized my business as fraudulent.

And I take serious issue with that.

I also reached out to Natalie directly after discovering the review.

I explained why I objected to her description of our exchange, reminded her that credit-card payment had been offered, and made it clear that declining her event was a professional decision.

Her response?

“You are the rudest person I have ever met. I am now blocking your ability to contact me.”

I Googled Natalie.

She’s a whole vice president at a global company!

And I find that surprising, because based on my experience with her, her communication skills leave a whole lot to be desired.

But I digress.

I had said what I needed to say.

My final public response on Yelp now addresses the payment options, explains why I declined the event, and makes it clear that no contract was signed, no money was collected, and no catering services were provided.

And I ended it with five words:

Please be a better person.

I meant every one of them.

Here’s What Natalie Doesn’t Understand About My Business

I don’t know what Natalie was thinking when she wrote that review. But I know what the experience brought up for me.

There’s a certain attitude I’ve encountered throughout my career in hospitality. Some people seem to believe that because they’re paying for a service, the person providing that service is somehow beneath them.

That is not how this works with me.

I am a chef. I am a business owner. I have spent years developing my skills, building my company, and creating experiences for people in their homes.

And I take that responsibility seriously.

But let’s talk about what it actually means to work inside somebody’s home.

I’m not walking into a restaurant kitchen where I know the environment, the equipment, and the people around me.

I’m walking into a stranger’s personal space.

Sometimes I’m bringing an entire team with me.

I’m responsible for the food, the service, the timing, the cleanup, and the overall experience. I’m also responsible for the people working alongside me.

So yes, I pay attention to how prospective clients communicate.

I pay attention to how they respond when something isn’t exactly what they expected.

I pay attention to whether they seem to understand that this is a professional relationship, not an opportunity to exercise authority over somebody.

Because if I’m already uncomfortable with the communication before an event, why would I ignore that feeling and walk into someone’s home?

I’m not interested in finding out the hard way.

I respect my clients, their homes, and the trust they place in me. And I expect that same respect to be extended to me and my team.

That’s not arrogance.

That’s a boundary.

All Money Is Not Good Money

I decided a long time ago that every inquiry that lands in my inbox is not my event.

Some clients aren’t the right fit for my services.

And sometimes, I’m not the right fit for them.

That’s perfectly okay.

A client has every right to decide not to hire me. I have every right to decide not to accept a booking.

I don’t believe either person owes the other a business relationship simply because an inquiry was made.

What I do believe is that declining someone’s business should not automatically make you the villain in their story.

Natalie was free to find another caterer whose services, pricing, and payment policies better suited her needs.

And I was free to wish her well and move on.

I chose not to accept her event because the interaction no longer felt like the kind of working relationship I wanted.

I still stand behind that decision.

And although I can’t control what Natalie chooses to write about me, I can tell my own story.

Which is exactly what I’m doing here.

There’s a quote attributed to Joshua Becker that says:

“You can’t control how other people behave. But you can control how you respond to it all. In your response is your power.”

And that brings me back to something I’ve been telling myself since my days working in restaurant kitchens:

“Jaime, you work too fucking hard to be kissing anybody’s ass.”

I believed it then.

I believe it now.

And I’m going to die believing it.

Because hospitality is my profession, but my dignity is not part of the package.

One Last Thing About Reviews…

If you’ve ever hired me for a dinner party, catering event, or meal prep service, please consider leaving me a review on Google.

It really does mean more than you know.

Small businesses work incredibly hard to earn their reputations, and hearing from the people we’ve actually served makes a difference.

And if you’ve already taken the time to leave me a review, thank you. I appreciate every single one.

https://g.page/r/CSl9-bexRSiHEAE/review

As for Yelp?

Chile, I still don’t know what to do with Yelp. 😂

Thank you for reading, and thank you for continuing to support Jaime’s Personal Chef & Catering Services.

♥️