It seems like a lifetime ago, oh wait…it was a lifetime ago, that I stepped into my first professional kitchen. It was 1970 and the Statler Hilton kitchen in Buffalo, New York seemed like a complex, hard to wrap my head around, operation that was foreign to my way of thinking. It ran on the old Escoffier brigade system with an Executive Chef from the Queen Elizabeth in Montreal, a Sous Chef who had paid his dues in this property when he was a younger cook and then returned as second in command, a butcher from France who refused to speak English, a pastry chef from Italy, a Saucier/Potager from the Italian section of Buffalo, a Banquet Chef from the school of hard knocks (he also had 10 children of his own), two women from the toughest section of the city who shared the Garde Manger Department, and a cadre of other underlings like me. There was a strange sense of order to this very large kitchen in the sub-basement of a 1,200-room hotel. We had 18 banquet spaces and three restaurants (one leased out to Trader Vics), and round-the-clock room service. I walked in to hustle and bustle every day, yet everything seemed to click. Each player was well versed in his or her position and from my perspective, happy to be part of what was going on. Respect for the chain of command was evident and aside from the typical grumblings, it all worked well.

Uniforms were taken care of by the property – cleaned, starched, and ironed, so every day we looked fresh and sharp. It was a way of showing respect for what we did, for the history of the kitchen and the profession, and a way to stand tall among our peers in other departments of the hotel. We rarely saw the guest, but we did look in a mirror – so this part of professionalism was critical for morale.

There were many days when every banquet space was booked so although I was not part of any planning, it must have been enormously difficult to facilitate all the variables and make sure the day went as expected. There was a sense of pride, although sometimes hidden well, in what was being done; pride in the food that left the kitchen, and the pride in being part of the team. It was a serious place, but one that still festered a handful of off-color jokes and harmless ribbing about one’s skills or lack thereof.

It was a place of protected tricks of the trade and as a result not focused on open learning. You had to really dig in to pick up new skills and watch out of the corner of your eye to see how each cook or chef approached a task. It wasn’t about being intentionally mean, but rather an embedded fear of losing one’s advantage within the brigade. Probably a carry-over from their time as apprentices in the “old country”. Everyone worked hard, no one ever called in sick, each cook knew that his or her work was important to the whole and would never leave their teammates in the weeds. Anyway, despite this, I did manage to learn a lot and left the Statler as a much more confident and competent cook. This is how it was.

Fast forward a couple decades and suddenly the position of cook changed. The time and discipline necessary to reach the ultimate position of chef was short circuited and elevated to a “not too close to reality” glorious job of creative spirit, admiration, constant accolades, tv style personality, and elite, ego filled job descriptions where the chef became larger than life. Sure, it was nice if you were part of it. The pay was much better, the prestige was glorious although oftentimes inflated, and suddenly to become a chef was a decision with outcomes that were strongly connected to a boastful resume and the most expensive knife kit. Sure, I was part of that wave because it was offered but looking back, I sense that it ignited a problem that we should have foreseen.

“The way it was” created an environment where many people working in kitchens did so because they wanted to be part of it all. They knew it was hard work and that it took time to move from cook to chef. They understood that nothing would be given to them, they had to earn it, but in the end, they would be part of something special – a career with history. Unlike the way it was, the current environment made chefs “free agents” just like in professional sports where the highest bidder or the employer that offered the most freedom was where or for whom chefs wanted to work. The kitchen became a place with less loyalty to the team and more emphasis on the individual. Where rapid promotion was an expectation especially if a cook’s resume included working for some admired chefs or kitchens or came to the table with a degree in culinary arts. The revolving door of kitchen staff fed the negative side to life in restaurants and the already demanding workspace became hostile and contentious. Gone were the days of respect that Escoffier tried to foster, gone were the days of respect for one another – it was a challenging zone where many employees were used and abused; where balance was not a consideration – cooks were expected to sacrifice all for their time in the kitchen and their role in helping the chef to stand out. Yes, this did exist in “the way it was”, but not to the level that was seen during the purported “heydays” of working in kitchens.

Still, people were drawn to the life of a cook, to the adrenaline, to the excitement and the energy, and of course, to the chance to be creative. But it was (is) different now. It’s not just for the sake of the craft, to be part of the history, or to serve others and make them smile. It’s not just about the food to so many; not about the farmer, fisherman, rancher, cheesemaker, and bread baker. Somehow it became more about the individual. What can I achieve for myself, how fast can I rise up the ladder, how many people will write about me and how many awards can I collect. All that is nice, when deserved, but something has been lost and it’s showing up in too many uninspiring restaurants, too many restaurants struggling to find staff, too many cooks reaching for the highest bidder rather than the place that has the greatest respect for food. What “once was”, seems to fade more every day, “what is” seems to be what we must accept as the new reality, but it’s not the same. There are still some who rise above the trend and do it right and I tip my toque to them and hope that enough young people will try like hell to find a place in their kitchens. I pray that the restaurant experience will not continue to travel down the road of a commodity with so much sameness and so little authenticity and excellence. It’s up to us to make this so. All those aging chefs and cooks who had the experience of “what was” can still have an impact on attitudes and aspirations. Those of us who want the profession to carry on with dignity and the highest level of professional commitment.

“What can be” is a blend of the old and the new; what was and what is. A business where the history of the kitchen is still meaningful, where the craft is respected and where the skills of old are cherished and passed down, where respect for the source helps to define the quality on the plate and where service is not a dirty word. At the same time, we need to help to make sure that the kitchen is a mecca of respect and professional behavior, where people are treated as such, paid fairly, given a chance to live a balanced life, and acknowledged for caring for each other as well as the guest. This can be if we work to make it so.

As we enter another year let’s do our best to learn from what was, approach what is with renewed interested in doing things right and map out an industry that will carry on as important to society, for another century. We have the chance to do just that.

PLAN BETTER – TRAIN HARDER

Harvest America Ventures, LLC

Restaurant Consulting

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