A new generation of chefs.

I would like to think that we are in a new era of cheffing.

The old-school, hyper-masculine, hierarchy-obsessed chef who only feels fulfilled in toxic, inhumane working conditions is perhaps not yet dead, but arguably a dying breed. They may never go completely extinct, but in this evolution of chefs, there appears to be a new, different, less toxic generation who is looking to dominate the industry in the present and future.

And thank God for that.

Of course, not all of old-school restaurant culture is necessarily bad. I admit that I, too, have found a lot of entertainment and fascination in reading and learning about the experiences described by chefs and writers like Anthony Bourdain in his Kitchen Nightmares or Marco Pierre White in his interviews; the romanticisation of the insanely long hours and the tough hustle culture, the physical challenges and casual injuries, the testosterone-filled, sweaty and shouty kitchens sustained by varying cases and levels of substance abuse, all of which forming an experience which was long considered the industry norm.

These types of narratives have undoubtedly led to the cult status of the cheffing profession, and have ironically helped turn chefs into a more respected, even prestigious group of workers.

I cannot deny that this type of narrative has impacted, even benefitted me too. I was just as susceptible to these romanticised stories of hardship, inhumane work environments, and the pride, glory, and satisfaction these chefs seemed to gain from their work. They worked hard in often unwelcoming kitchens, and it was their commitment to learn, improve, and endure all challenges, and their dedication to work with food that allowed them to keep going and become the great chefs they ended up being.

Sounds pretty cool to me.

The glorification of the profession was possibly the thing that got me more interested in venturing down this path myself. It is the same narrative which lead to the impressed and admiring comments from others when I tell them that I work in kitchens, further confirming my choice and commitment to the job.

But if we are being realistic, this genre of cheffing is fundamentally problematic, and all the romanticisation aside, there is no glory in it. Certainly not today.

Even Bourdain’s texts could not sweet talk the physical, sexual, and verbal abuse taking place on a daily basis. Extremely long hours and little to no breaks or days off, with stories of chefs falling asleep standing up whilst having a quick cigarette outside and leaning on drugs to keep on going. The extreme hierarchy, domination, and even disrespect with which superiors treat their employees, and mental health problems which come with the daily pressure. And the amount of low or even unpaid labour in the supposed interest of “experience” and “excellent learning opportunities” is yet another story.

For a long time, this environment was the industry standard. If you wanted to become a chef, that is what you have to expect. With each generation going through it, they passed it on to the next one, proclaiming that the only way to “make it” is for the newcomers to endure the same experience. It feeds into that side of human nature where we don’t like seeing other people having it easy when we have to go through hard times ourselves, allowing for this self-perpetuating toxic chef culture to set in. As such, I admire those who broke away from these norms and who started effecting changes in the industry.

It is important to point out that cheffing is already a challenging job.

You cannot avoid a hectic service shift where you have to stay on top of an avalanche of checks. If there is a lot of prep still left to do in a short amount of time you will feel the panic setting in. Not every restaurant can afford to maintain a lot of staff, so there will be long days and times when your break may end up being shorter than you would have liked. There is a lot of physical labour involved where you will find yourself sweating next to sweltering hobs and ovens, carrying heavy equipment or boxes of food, and you may have to prepare yourself for the occasional burn, cut, or bruise when you aren’t careful. And at the end of the day, when you are cleaning down the kitchen after a busy shift, there is no doubt that you will feel immeasurably tired and find yourself longing for a hot shower, a warm soft bed, and cannot wait to get the weight of your feet.

Cheffing is already hard.

If you want to romanticise the hard work of chefs, there is already plenty to get you started.

There is no need to make it even more difficult by creating a toxic work environment.

Thankfully, the new generations are realising this and trying their best to combat the old norms: more inclusive and diverse staff, improved hours, fairer treatment of employees, better salaries where possible, and an overall kinder approach to communication and how a business needs to be run. While you still enter a challenging job when you get a chef position, you should no longer have to expect to get bullied, exploited, or abused. And if you are still facing problems, you should be able to leave and likely find a better position elsewhere.

As someone who is dedicated to working with food, I am grateful that I can pursue my passion without having to worry about what it will do to my physical or mental health. It’s a career that has its challenges, ups and downs as any job does without requiring me to push myself to the limit.

I thank the new generation of chefs for effecting this change and hope that these new work environments will soon become the universal standard in hospitality.