Staff Food
A while ago, when cheffing was riding a wave of cool, working for free in a high end restaurant was considered a badge of honour rather than an abuse of employment rights, and tattoos were just beginning to creep down the arm of every cook in town, a hefty, beautifully designed book was published called “Where Chefs Eat”.
It was supposed to be a portal into a world of hip late night hole in the wall joints where chefs would go for a bite to eat and a beer to unwind after service, stop for a nourishing brunch on their way in to work, or hang out for a lazy Sunday discussing lacto fermentation with other dudes.
The publishers could in fact have saved themselves the trouble and the paper by printing a one page edition: just a map of a kitchen with a metre square area highlighted that is out of view of customers. This small square is where, spooning burnt food directly from a saucepan whilst stood up, chefs eat.
The hospitality industry[1] is notoriously bad at looking after its own: a classic case of the cobbler’s children having no shoes. Financial and time pressures combine to create a culture where there never seems to be enough food to stretch to feeding staff or the right moment to do it.
There is something particularly cruel about the idea of chefs working in places they could never afford (or may not want) to eat, creating meals they never get to experience completely, serving staff who are expected to talk knowledgeably about things they will never taste and kitchen porters who mostly see food as smears on plates or leftovers scraped into bins. With staff tending to work long hours on their feet in hostile conditions where heat, noise, extreme time pressure, drunken customers and arsehole bosses are the norm, surely a nutritious meal is essential?
In chain restaurants there will be a structured system of food breaks, with discounts available for in house meals[2] something out of reach for smaller establishments. One solution is the “family meal”[3] which, at it’s best, can bring a team together for a communal break to eat something that has been made just for them and hasn’t been left to go cold[4]: albeit something cheap, often using excess stock and heavy in the carbohydrates to keep the troops marching (and because, in the absence of something fried, that’s what people want, right?).
At its worst it’s a packet of cash and carry super noodles for the 17th day in a row, with a few scraps of added fried vegetable matter if the owner isn’t around, eaten on an upturned crate in the cold gloom of a store room.
Family meals have links to an older culture of split shifts and semi-indentured labour and don’t fit the current model of all day opening and casual contracts. Instead hybrid systems develop with some staff eating together, some not taking a break at all or using the time for cigarettes, and a sweet, black economy develops with front of house and kitchen looking after each other with a quiet exchange of cold drinks, tidbits of food offered, meals made “by mistake” and care packages of leftovers being put together at the end of service.
[1] Should these two words even be in the same sentence?
[2] If, God forbid, I ever end up working in one of these places, at least please spare me from having to eat the food.
[3] This phrase instantly conjures up images of cults, fixed smiles, petty arguments, Charles Manson and bitching about Mum and Dad’s cooking
[4] Not only does this mean that everyone gets a decent meal but for some chefs this is their favourite part of the job, perhaps their only chance to be creative and make something new. For others it’s a pain in the backside, just one more thing to do.
Chef’s Menu Du Jour
With Drinks Pairings
Pasty De Gregg En Route
Crisp Garnish
99p Energy Drink
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Slice Of Experimental Cake
Tepid Failed Latte Art Flat White
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Medley Of Anonymous Bits Of Vegetable Matter
Gathered From The Chopping Board And Absent Mindedly Popped In Mouth
House Water, Served Warm In Yogurt Pot
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A Suggestion Of Curry
Licked Off Finger
Nicotine
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Assiette De Carbohydrate: Pasta | Potatoes | Bread
Ignored Salad | Chilli Sauce
Double Espresso
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Trio Of Fritti
One Eaten Too Hot | Roof Of Mouth Burnt
One Left To Go Cold | Soggy, Disappointment
One Something You Don’t Normally Batter & Fry But Why Not Give It A Go?
Something Cold and Sugary, Doesn’t Matter What
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Chocolate Mousse, Chocolate Mousse, Chocolate Mousse
Because You Can’t Really Change That Day Dot Again | Nausea
Post Shift Anonymous Euro Lager Bought In To Avoid Giving You The Expensive Stuff
Words by Simon Matthew
Art by Hannah Robinson