Kitchen Tyrants
George Orwell, who once washed dishes for a living, wrote in 1933 that the professional kitchen was a place where one person yelled at his subordinate, who then yelled at his subordinate, and so on. Like many of the observations the author made, this one's relevant to this day. The New York Times’ recent exposé about celebrity chef Rene Redzepi has revealed that the Dane is perhaps the most sadistic current practitioner of this unfortunate tradition.
When Redzepi’s restaurant, Noma, was located in Copenhagen, it was named the best restaurant in the world five times. Four days after the NYT piece came out, he resigned from his head chef position.
Noma now operates via months-long “pop-up” restaurant residencies in various cities outside of Denmark, the latest of which is a four-month stint in L.A. that opened on March 11. Tickets for a $1500 meal sold out in three minutes, but protesters have recently gathered at the Silver Lake venue. Most of the luster has been removed from the once buzz-worthy event by this time.
The accusations levelled against Redzepi are stunning. They include punching employees in the face or ribs, jabbing or stabbing with kitchen tools, slamming people against walls, choking incidents, kicking, plus widespread verbal humiliation, intimidation, and body shaming. In one incident, Redzepi punished an employee for playing techno music (which he hates) by punching his sous chef in the ribs and making him admit he likes to give oral sex to deejays. This was done in front of a group of 40.
Redzepi’s most recent apology, which sounds like it was written by a PR agency, rings hollow. He said he didn't recognize every detail from the NYT piece, but took responsibility for “actions that harmed people.” His words appeared to be aimed at his investors more than anyone else.
Orwell, who likened his kitchen work to slavery, was commenting on a cycle of abuse that's passed down from one generation to the next. Redzepi said that when he was young his chefs abused him, and that he'd promised himself he'd never do that to someone else. That sounds like what many abusive parents have offered as an excuse: “The baby cried for hours and I just snapped.” They snapped because there's something very wrong with them that they need to be punished for. Punishing Redzepi is a way to break the cycle of abuse the chef was perpetuating. Other chefs will get the message.
One of the main reasons mental health and substance abuse among cooks is such a problem is because of chefs like Redzepi. What's infuriating is that, as celebrity chefs, they have the resources to recover from the career damage caused by their behavior, while the lowly cook is forced to suffer through shift after shift just to survive.
TV shows like Gordon Ramsay’s Hell’s Kitchen have desensitized the public to the abuse of kitchen workers—even glorified it. In 2004, Ramsay, once a trainee of abusive celebrity chef Marco Pierre White, reportedly (the incident wasn't televised) shoved a contestant, causing a sprained ankle. The case was settled out of court for $124,000. Ramsay called another contestant a “dick face,” and when the guy stood up for himself, the Brit bully became incensed, following him around the kitchen and screaming expletives. Ramsay sometimes forced contestants to eat raw or improperly cooked food as a punishment. Maybe the holder of eight Michelin stars is now looking over his shoulder.
In a saner society, Hell’s Kitchen would've been seen as an exposé along the lines of the New York Times recent blockbuster piece. After all, Ramsay was putting everything out there for public scrutiny. Instead, the show was consumed as harmless entertainment. Viewers didn't see it as a cautionary tale. They figured that this is just the way professional kitchens operate, so why not enjoy the fun? That's the equivalent of filming a street attack on a pedestrian instead of calling 911.
The media should rethink what it's trying to accomplish with its culinary coverage. When Redzepi moved his traveling operation to Tulum, Mexico, it wasn't done for the locals. It was a place to fly into and then leave for the few who could afford it. Kevin Sintumuang, reporting for Esquire, called it “the most enviable meal of the year.” So he wants readers to envy him? Jacob Richler, who wrote about the dinner for The Toronto Star, called it “the meal of a lifetime.” What these two reporters did was closer to food porn than it was to journalism. What's the point of a restaurant reviewer glorifying a sensual experience their readers can't share? There's no journalistic value there. Former NYT restaurant critic Pete Wells understood this, which is why he refused to review the restaurant.
Redzepi was a key signatory to the so-called Lima Declaration, a puffed-up manifesto stating this: “We dream of a future in which the chef is socially engaged, conscious of and responsible for his or her contribution to a just and sustainable society.” There's not one ounce of sustainability in anything ever to come out of Noma, which once used interns as little more than slave laborers until they couldn't get away with it any longer.
Spreading nonsense about the altruism of chefs instead of looking into their open secrets has helped perpetuate the cycle of abuse in professional kitchens that lives on despite all the societal advances concerning workers’ rights. It's hardly surprising that the media buys into such self-serving PR, however. Look how gullible they are when tech moguls proclaim their real motivation is wanting to improve the world.
Rene Redzepi has always sold luxury, and luxury’s at the opposite end of the spectrum from making the world a better place. Charging $1500 for a meal means one is producing something frivolous and disposable for the privileged few. This is far from making important, inspiring art that a regular person who can afford a MOMA ticket can enjoy right alongside a captain of industry; more like selling a $5000 Saint Laurent handbag nobody needs, but many might envy.
Society would miss a hardware store that closed much more than if Redzepi’s Los Angeles pop up shut down. The punishment these culinary tyrants mete out isn't done for noble purposes. It's done in service of their own insatiable egos and careers.