I wanted to see the year out on a positive note. I wanted to write about something close to my heart and something I know us chefs, waiters and other hospitality professionals all need. In fact, this transcends the industry. It reaches all of humanity and especially at this time of year, it is never more important.
​
I want to chat about relationships. You know what I mean? I’ve touched on this in many of my previous blog posts. I often mention my wife. She is the woman who pretty much raised our children as a single, working parent while I was bunkered down in a kitchen somewhere. She was and still is the woman turning up to parties on her own, while muggins here, is routing through a fridge to find the garnish for a late ordered cheeseboard. My wife is the mother who attends parents evenings and school plays on her own, because the Head chef’s pet dog needed babysitting. So I needed to cover his shift (true story).

We have been through so much over the years. Almost 25 years together. From Commis chef to
Head chef. I have seen many chef’s relationships come and go. Our relationship is often put on a pedestal
of unrealistic presumption. We get regarded as that “strong couple.” People are often asking us what is our secret. How has our relationship endured this industry which is notoriously hard on couples, families and friendships? It is no different for us. We argue, we “do each other’s heads in”. There are days where we just don’t speak to each other. But that is the nature of relationships.

When you find someone who can live with the hours which we put in. I don’t mean the amount of hours, but the structure of those hours. A partner who can tolerate the split shifts, the 32 hour weekends and the non-committal, vague finishing times. Hold on to that person. Appreciate the moments together.

I am pretty far away from being a relationship guru. I could well be single by this time next year. The hospitality lifestyle is hard on relationships as you know. I try to not bring too much work home. I know Abs (That’s my wife Abby) has no interest in how glossy my demi-glace was during service tonight. She doesn’t need to be told how tired I am. What she wants is… When’s your day off? What are we doing? And rightly so.

Being a father is the easy part, but being a Dad is the challenge. My kids have never known any different from me. I am at work. This is the part I find hardest. They already know and assume that I will not be there. All school letters and reports get handed straight to mum. During their younger years, this is what I found the toughest. Missing the school plays. Not being at the football games and cup finals. Not being home when they returned from Scout Camp. This was torture for me. When I look back at some of the reasons I missed some of these events, I have total regret. Why didn’t I tell my head chef to “do one!”? I guess it was a different time. Maybe the fear of not being able to provide for my family, outweighed the necessity of being present. That’s something for my therapist to analyse. Not for me to dwell on now.

Now, as teenagers, they really couldn’t give a crap where I am. I mean that in the nicest way. I can’t pretend to understand teenagers. They are all weird and speak a different language. I love my children to bits. They know this. That’s all that really matters, right?

My friendships have been fickle, fleeting, non-existant. But at the same time, pure. I have a very small inner circle of friends. Some of my oldest friends, I only see once a year at best. Rarely socially. It’ll either be when they visit the pub and I’m working or a chance run in while shopping. This is totally my fault. Trying to balance that quality time with my family when not working, leaves very little time, if any, for working on relationships with friends. Especially as we are now all older, have jobs and responsibilities. The days of meeting at the new wine bar for an all-dayer are a distant memory. But a happy memory. I am very fortunate to have some very good friends around me right now. They support me, my work and they love Gin (and meat!) For Abs and I, they all help fortify our own relationship. It’s just a shame that the meet ups are usually set around the parameters of when I can get the time off. But, I guess it’s about quality of friendships, not how often you get out. And I do have some high quality friendships.

There is no secret. We have been lucky. No! I have been lucky. I am a chef. I have put Abs through the mill many times in the past. I have been a proper arse. There have been times when I said I’d be home after my shift and then rolled in a lot later. Stopping for a few beers after work, which then turned in to a bit of a session. This was in the days before mobile phones. The days when you couldn’t just log in to Facebook to see where someone last checked in. People were just “out”. I was by no means a saint, but this is not a confessional. I just wanted to write about my experience as a man, as a chef, as a husband in this kitchen lifestyle and how we all endure it.

When I first met my wife, she was a trainee hairdresser. She worked in the Salon next door to the restaurant I was working in. We developed a friendship, a relationship and a partnership. From early on, she knew that I would always be working. She understood that a chef worked evenings and weekends. She accepted it without fuss.

I’m sure there are a lot of chefs, male and female who can relate to the kitchen language. The hospitality industry is a cauldron of hormones. Men and women who spend more time with each other than they do with their own partners. The friendships formed, can be very tight. To the external eye, stories can be manifested and edited to suit a narrative. Not necessarily the correct tale, but strong enough to wreck a relationship which has not had time to set it’s foundations. This is where trust comes in.

Of course, there are occasions where the story created in the mind of the suspicious partner is not that far from the truth. It can be very difficult for someone outside of the trade to understand the strength of the relationships formed in the kitchens. So many inside jokes. So many stories which can NEVER leave the Pass…. I’ll leave that there.

So, to sum up. If you have found a person who can put up with your shitty hours, the way you smell of meat and chips when you get home. The person who just gets it. Do your best to hold on to them. I can’t offer any dating advice if you are single. I realise I know fuck all about modern dating. Tinder/Grinder/Plenty of Fish (is that a thing?) are all alien to me. I’m from an era when my mum was Caller ID on a landline phone. “Who is it, mum?....Tell her I’m OUT!” I have written posts before on the subject, but more tongue in cheek. Go check out my other blog: 10 Things to know before you date a chef post and share that. Along with why being a chef is awesome!
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I think I’ve rambled on enough. You get my point right? Did I make a point? Probably not lol!
 
Happy new year Chefs & Front of Housers!
2019 is yours!
 
Brian Powlett

WOW! So my blog has been shortlisted and now open to the public vote.

I don't usually enter these sort of things, but if you don't shoot, you wont score.

You can vote for me under the Culinary Section here :
https://blogawardsuk.co.uk/blog_award_category/culinary/page/7/

Or under the Lifestyle section here:

​https://blogawardsuk.co.uk/blog_award_category/lifestyle/page/42/

I think you just click on the little heart icon.

Massive thanks to all my supporters over the years and a super shout out to The Staff Canteen who have been publishing my blogs over the past few years. Thanks to all the Chefs who have inspired me to write. And my wife who encourages me to do what I love.


Thank you.

I really appreciate it

​We chefs are curious creatures indeed. I often imagine a highly produced BBC Documentary in the style of Blue Planet, being shot about the behaviours of chefs. Animalistic and savage, yet territorial and family oriented. With a voice-over by Sir David Attenborough, we would be entertained by hyper slow motion shots of newbie chefs peeling potatoes (shot in real time). Through to the dramatic, overture which plays across the scene where the chefs fed on the carcass of the Sunday roast tray, mopping up the jus roti with the day old bread ends. They then scatter when the general manager or executive chef walks in. They fear an attempt of an awkward conversation about Love Island or recent football results….

I love being a chef. I’ve said this many times. I can find it challenging, but these days, it’s more of a physical challenge. Everything hurts as I’m getting older. Approaching my mid-forties, I am constantly aware of every passing hour. Counting down to the end of my shift so I can have a cheeky sit down while I phone my orders in. I know 43 is not old, but with my 44th birthday coming up later this month (22nd November if you wanna send me a card) I am thinking more about the next stage of my kitchen career. I am not a chef on the cusp of rosettes or Michelin. I am a good chef, but I am fully aware of my limits. I love to challenge myself and I have never shied away from graft. I pride myself on being a chef you want to work with when it gets busy. My coolness under pressure is my USP. My priority has always been flavour not flowers. I am definitely more Bistro than Blumenthal. I currently ply my trade in a pub kitchen, where we are spectacularly busy. I guess I’m doing something right. And like the 99% of chefs out there, the daily graft is real. So far removed from the TV chefs. The faded whites which chafe at the armpits. The turmeric stained apron and the trousers held up with a belt made from tightly pulled cling film. We turn up, we cook LOTS! We clean down, go home and repeat the next day.

Have a drink on me chefs!!Privately, I recently had a crisis of confidence. Fuelled by my impending birthday and that feeling of what now? Is it a young persons game? At almost 44, the harder shifts are getting tougher. Although the muscle memory for most of the tasks has set in. Keeping up with current trends and the ever changing legislation changes gives the older generation more things to think about. I was starting to consider how many years I can keep up to speed. Will my chefs tell me when I start making those silly mistakes which aging chefs make? You know the ones. We’ve all worked with a chef who has stayed in the kitchen a few years too long. We’d be pulling the pan of reducing Gastrique off the flames, as they had forgotten and overstretched themselves. I don’t want that to be me.

(Side note; How old is the oldest chef you’ve worked with?)

Forty-four is by no means old. But in this very physically demanding industry, it could be compared to professional sports. Should I take a move down into the lower leagues, become a dinner-lady, minus the gender reassignment. Chocolate crunch with pink custard? Is it time for this chef to start considering an exit strategy. Open my own restaurant? Forge a career as an author of a series of books about a wizard chef? What to do next?
Disclaimer; I am VERY happy with my job. I’m just looking at the big picture. The Greyhound in Ipswich has been a real life saver for me. I’ve had the opportunity to rediscover my love of food in an environment which suits where I am at in my own headspace. This post is more of a general rambling. Aimed at that large cross-section of us chefs who don’t sit in that illustrious top echelon. We, the guys and gals in the trenches. The chefs with no time for posting on Instagram. No desire for a cookbook deal. The lifer.

Coming back to this blog a few days after writing it. I was concerned that I was sounding a little defeatist. I am generally quite a positive person. Always looking for the next adventure, idea or opportunity. I love writing these blogs. These are the conversations which I often struggle to verbalise with my peers, family and friends. This, as I have said before, is my therapy. Just writing this has ignited the spark of motivation I needed. No, this is not my letter of resignation. Although, imagine that? One way to see if they read my blogs at work hahaha! I still don’t have a cast iron plan of what to do next, but I feel better for just putting this out there.

Thanks for reading

Yours Over-sharingly

​Brian

For this month’s post, I thought I’d list 11 Comments and Questions chefs love to hate.
I know these grind on me. Feel free to add…

1. Can I get discount?
Chefs are always asked for discount. No matter which level they work at in the kitchen, it seems to be assumed that they have senior powers to slice a cool 20% off their friend’s bills. This is not the case. Most chefs don’t even get discounts themselves. If they do happen to own the restaurant, bar or hotel and this friend wants to visit, then the friendly thing to do would be to support them by expecting to pay full price. Anything else is a bonus.

2. Have you ever worked with….?
Mostly NO! There are millions of chefs in the world. We don’t all know each other and we have not all worked for that 0.01% who are fortunate enough to have their own TV show on the BBC.

3. What’s your signature dish?
I really hate this one. Back in the 1990s, every chef on TV seemed to have a signature dish. This then filtered down into the mainstream consciousness. Resulting in it being the follow up question, once meeting new people and they realise they are in the presence of a chef. A signature dish is a luxury reserved for those in the world of competitive cookery. Or those with a book deal. Brian from The Greyhound Pub has no signature dish. He’s too busy for that shit!

4. What’s in this? (insert random dish in random restaurant)
Like I said before. We chefs do not all know each other and we are not all connected via WiFi or Bluetooth. So if we are fortunate enough to be invited out for a meal with a group of friends or family. We do not automatically know what is in the random establishments fish pie or beef curry. We can only guess as much as the next person.

5. I bet your partner eats well?
Well, I guess she might. I’m never really home….. This question is based on the assumption that I am home cooking for my beloved every day. She feasts on nothing but restaurant grade meals cooked by me. Sous Vide venison fillet with confit shallots, garnished with edible flowers n shit! Nah bruv! She’s been to Morrisons and picked up a salad, some falafels and a bottle of Echo Falls Rose. She’s happy. After 18 years of marriage, she knows how to take care of herself in the kitchen. A chef’s spouse knows the score. Which leads me to number 6…..

6. What do you want to do on your day off babe?
Nothing. I want to do nothing. I want to sleep in until midday. I’ll eat those kit-kats, the crisps and the Muller Rice you were saving for the kids packed lunches. Then I’ll watch ALL the catch up TV which I’ve missed all week…plus I may lose myself in an episode of Jeremy Kyle. My brain needs to operate in power-save mode for a while. Like Windows 95, the shut down procedure takes a while…. “It is now safe to shut down your chef"

7. Are you one of those shouty/angry chefs?
No. He’s called Gordon Ramsay. He’s made millions from his persona (and talent) It works for him and may have worked for that generation of chef. But we are now in the 21st century where being a bell end is frowned upon and not accepted. I’d be out of a job and unemployable if I adopted the angry chef model of leadership. This question is usually asked by someone who doesn’t actually know me that well. Those who have worked with me will know that I am “Chill AF” No drama in my kitchens. Channel the adrenalin into the work. Move on.

8. Oh, you’d hate to cook for me, I’m a really fussy eater.
Nothing to add. You are correct. I will not be cooking for you…. Ok. Fussy eaters who come in to eat my food are welcome. I like to feel I am adaptable. But I will swear, mutter under my breath and talk trash behind your back. But you do pay my wages. But yes. I will hate it.

9. I bet you’re really fussy when you eat out?
Any chef worth their salt will have realistic expectations when they eat out. A chef will never criticise a plate of food set down in front of them. Come on! It’s very rare if we actually eat from a plate, let alone have someone prepare us a meal. Quite literally Don’t bite the hand which feeds you!

10. I’ll pop in for a chat when you’re at work.
Can I come and see you while you’re at work?! Just because I work in a public house does not mean I am not working. Just because I’m the head chef, do not assume I have a platoon on minions hanging onto my apron strings, waiting to do my bidding. I don’t swan into the kitchen with a tasting spoon like the Man From Del Monte. I’m busting my arse to keep the trip advisor brigade happy. I always appreciate a hello. I really love a beer being sent to the kitchen. But please understand, I have a job to do. And if we do chat and I seem distracted…. Something is probably burning.

11. What’s good on the menu chef?
I can’t believe I nearly missed this one. I really can’t tell you what you want to eat. All the food is good, in my opinion. Me and my team have done our best to deliver the best product we can. We have produced a menu for you to choose from. Make a decision and stop bothering me….. But actually… maybe try the Salt Cod, broad bean and prawn risotto. I think it’s bloody lush! 😊

​I hope you’ve enjoyed my little list and taken it in the humour it’s meant. If you have any comments or questions you want to add, please drop me a line.

​Do you want to know a secret?

Do you promise to keep it to yourself?

Well….here it is…. I struggled and I still do. For the longest time I struggled to find the balance between the work and my personal life. How could I do my job, functioning at a level of intensity, which burns out many? How could I be the husband and father which I am required to be? How could I not let my friends and family down at social events? How would I find time to relax and be myself? How could I do ALL these things and remain my awesome self?

The truth is, trying to attack all of these issues in their entirety, was driving me a little nuts. When I think about it now, it still draws me in to a darkened place.

So what did I do? How did I find balance? Honestly. I don’t think I have. What I am trying to do is change my approach. By this, I mean shift the focus from my job defining who I am, to letting me, Brian, be the priority. It’s cliché, but looking after number one is how I am dealing with the struggle. I make sure that I do the things which I enjoy and help improve me as a person.

I’ll come back to the specifics in a bit. But before this can be done. One needs to realise that the significance of what they do in the office/kitchen/restaurant, is minimal. Busting your arse for a job which would replace you within days, should you drop down dead. They would. But your family can’t replace you. Your loved ones can’t replace you. My wife may say different! But, I hope you get my point. Being run down to the point of exhaustion, so that you can’t enjoy those moments with your own family and friends is not how it should be. At the end of the day, it’s just someone’s dinner. Unless you’re a chef on the front line, in a war zone (#Respect) or dropping of aid to famine ravaged villages for the United Nations, little Veronica and Tarquin will have to wait that little bit longer for their egg and cress sandwiches. You’ll be surprised how much better you’ll feel by taking your foot of the gas by 5%. To carry on the driving metaphor, revving your engine in the red all the time will kill your motor eventually. Who does that benefit?

Too many websites, feeds and forums are still glorifying the aggressive, work hard/play hard lifestyle. Glamorising the burned out chef. Hollywood even cashed in on chefs on the edge. Two of the biggest films about our industry of recent years, both featured chefs “losing their shit!” Having psychotic episodes. But it all worked out in the end. That’s the Bradley Cooper effect. In reality. We all know how that would have ended. Most of us know the chefs who fell of the edge and didn’t come back.
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Being a chef is sexy. It’s rock and roll. But only a few, less that 0.01% of us are in the limelight, making waves. We are mostly soaping down oven doors, trying to get home. Clock watching and hovering around the clingfilm at the end of a shift. 

​So, back to the specifics. What do I do? Like I mentioned. I shifted the focus from me being 80% chef and slotting the rest of my life into the gaps. Now I am only a chef while I am in the kitchen. I stopped letting the job define me as a person. I stopped trying to balance being a chef with the rest of my life because I realised that that is an unfair battle. Chef vs Life is ridiculous. A life has so many elements, all of which outweigh your job! Chef vs Family/Friends/Self/Physical Health/Mental Health/Diet/Love. Turning the volume down on the chef part of my life is where I’m at. It’s not a perfect system. In a recent chat with “Love Letters To Chefs” I identified that this holistic approach can only really work if it is explained to your piers and employer. If they respect you, it should make sense. But every case is different. You need to be honest with yourself. It took me a long time to realise what I needed. Which aspects of my life were toxic and which were worth changing for. What I also try and do, as a senior chef, is to be more proactive and less reactive to the needs of the chefs around me. I do my best to ensure they get the days off they require. Paying as much attention to the mental health and welfare of those around you as you would to your SFBB diary and allergy checklists. I am certain that more people are effected by overwork, fatigue and stress, than are having an allergic reaction to Lupin.

Get rest, get away from the noise. Spending 12 hours under the billion Watt extraction unit, listening to that constant drone, in itself can be tiring. I sometimes take the longer walk home, just for the peace. Being in an environment which is unrelated to work or home helps me bridge the two worlds.

I am by no means a saint. Only recently being told that I can occasionally be very difficult to work with due to my moods. I know that I have been very tetchy in the recent heatwave here in the UK. This is the closest I’ve come to considering a career change. Fuelled even more by the 70 hour week which I found myself doing to cover a chef’s holiday. It’s been a while since I put in those sort of hours in the kitchen and I’m still recovering now. Only sweet baby Jesus knows how I used to do that on a weekly basis. Those who know me well will tell you that I am mostly a calm, chilled out chap. But I know I am guilty of suppressing anger and negative emotions. I would then vent this pent up rage in a torrent of passive aggressive sarcasm, bitchiness and nastiness. I’m working on this aspect of my personality. But I can only afford so much therapy! My personal belief is that life is about trying to be the best you. Some say, the best version of yourself. The emphasis should be on the try. No matter what your religious belief is, if any. When it comes to reflecting on your life. You want to able to tell the world that you gave it a go.

So to summarise. Chill out. Love. Learn to switch off. Learn to switch on. Talk.

Chat soon.

If you haven’t checked out Love Letters to Chefs, please go see the work which this site is trying to promote. The hashtag #BetterChefLife is being pushed to help improve the lifestyle, welfare, expectation and perception of chefs.

Brian Powlett