Open Kitchen Nightmares.

As a foodie, I get the point of an open kitchen. As a chef, I kind of hate it.

These days, more and more restaurants embrace an open kitchen setup, putting the chefs in the limelight and allowing the customers to watch the theatre unfold. Speaking from an enthusiastic diner's perspective, I so get it. Sitting at the kitchen counter and getting to watch the professionals do what they do best as the menu items come to life in front of you - how can you not be in blissful awe?

But flip the table, and I find myself on a busy Friday night, slammed with checks, trying to focus on maintaining my section and sending out orders as dozens of curious customers stare me down, watching my every movement, and - worst comes to worst – try to strike up a conversation with me. 

There's a reason I chose to work in the kitchen; to cook – not to perform.

Back when I was not yet working in hospitality and only engaged with restaurants as a fascinated diner, I would always make sure to secure a seat at the kitchen counter whenever there was the option. I was enthralled by the chefs’ seeming calm or took pleasure in the thrill I was experiencing vicariously while the kitchen was buzzing wildly.

It made sense to me that restaurants should embrace the theatrical charm of a professional kitchen and show off their skills, their meticulous knife work, the tossing of pans, the open fire grilling, and the careful yet efficient plating. Open kitchens also felt like a statement of honesty and accountability, a way for restaurants to prove that they had nothing to hide. We are proud of what we do, and everything is executed correctly and perfectly. You don’t believe us? See for yourself!

Undoubtedly, the increased popularity of cooking shows and celebrity chefs also played a role in sparking the customer's interest in watching professionals cook. For any new restaurant opening these days, having an open kitchen is basically a must to attract today's foodies and Instagram critics.

However, since working in hospitality myself and seeing the other side of the kitchen counter, I realise that the open kitchen actually robs the job of some of its joys. Really, the open kitchen setup fails to align with the fundamental nature of a chef as someone who concentrates on cooking and teamwork, rather than performance and customer service. When embarking on my chef journey, the requirements I thought I would need were knife skills, a decent knowledge of cooking techniques, ingredients and global cuisines, time management skills, organisation and cleanliness, and the ability to work under pressure in a small team. I did not expect to be taking orders, navigating customers, and making a performance of my work, and these are frankly not skills I wish to engage in. In fact, not having to engage with customers was, for me, one of the main perks of cheffing.

And realistically, a lot of chefs are in the kitchen because they aren’t the most socially apt people in the first place, and who see the kitchen as a safe space to simply be and let out occasional curses and profanities without consequence. So to place them in front of demanding customers really seems like an altogether bad idea.

Open kitchens just feel so voyeuristic; a place where customers gawk at the chefs who are trying to make their way through a physically and mentally demanding shift. The job is challenging enough without having to think about being watched. Especially when it comes to fine dining, the whole scene becomes even more perverse and sadistic as the leisurely rich look down on the sweaty, hardworking chefs doing excessive hours for measly salaries. Like animals in a zoo or fighting gladiators providing entertainment for the upper classes. The chef is turned into an exhibit, painfully exposed in front of a sudden unwanted audience.

Not all customers are obnoxious and demanding of course, and even I can occasionally enjoy chatting to people sitting at the kitchen counter, recommending dishes or talking about the food during quieter moments. But it appears that to be a good chef these days, on top of your culinary skills, you are required to possess strong customer service skills, a willingness to perform, an engaging personality, and ideally, a certain aesthetic. And honestly, especially during a busy service, I wish the gawking customers would just go away and leave me alone.

However, I don’t doubt that open kitchens will continue to be a restaurant feature for a good while as the public fascination with chefs continues to grow, partly due to shows like The Bear and popular chef personalities on the internet. And while I still understand the appeal of the setup, I have personally lost my love for it. Now when I go out to eat and I have the option to sit anywhere, I tend to avoid the kitchen counter. Partly because I already spend enough time staring at professional kitchens. But it’s also a silent nod to any fellow chefs who don’t care for being stared at while at work, so they can simply cook in peace.