In 2018 Kanye West released an Album, title “Ye”. The artwork on the cover featured the quote “I hate being Bipolar, it’s awesome”. In its profoundness and simplicity it encompassed his feelings towards his own personal medical diagnosis. I have never pretended to understand what it is like to be bipolar or the daily battles involved in dealing with many mental health issues, but that’s not what this blog is about. Sorry, but it’s not.

I may be oversimplifying this. But I found this title to be very relevant to how I feel about being a chef. I, by no means want to take away from anyone suffering with mental health issues or mental illness. This is just a reference point I have connected to an image.

So. Do I really hate being a chef? Of course not. Is it Awesome? Sometimes. I don’t want to preach to the choir here. Most of the readers of my blogs are chefs, work in the industry or are people who just like to stalk me. Either way, most are quite well versed in my opinions of this trade.

It is bloody hard and the hours are long. The money is mostly shit and everyone is a critic of your work. Literally, everyone! That all sounds pretty horrible right? Very few industries can claim to put it’s employees through this scrutiny. The likes of TripAdvisor, Yelp or whatever, being able to empower faceless reviewers to pass ill-informed comment on service and procedures they may know little about. Shit, right?

But then there is the other side. The friends we make. The chefs we cross paths with as commis and then again, in latter years as Head Chefs. The Knowledge that you’ve seen each other’s kitchen fuck ups. They are the untold secrets, their chefs need not know about. There is the prestige which comes with success. The review from a respected journalist or a nice write up in the local paper. Better still, a customer telling you directly that the meal was amazing! These are moments again, which are rarely rivalled. So much joy can come from this industry, that I know I’d struggle to turn my back on it fully.

Having a skill like this, will always be respected. If you are a good chef and take your job seriously, you will be admired. So many people look at chefs like we are Magicians, Wizards or Witches. The skills we take for granted, are looked at by “Muggles” as if we just pulled a Rabbit Fricasse out of a hat! We chefs sometimes underestimate what it is we do. Maybe society is to blame for this. Especially here in the UK where the hospitality industry is looked at as something one does to supplement their income. “What’s your day job?” or “Did you always want to be a chef?” The latter question is one I get asked very often. I only recently connected it with the notion that people would not assume “Chef” as a career choice. That’s another rant, for another blog!

If you are considering a career as a chef. Go for it. I’ve been a chef for over 25 years and I still love it. Like any relationship, there are good days and there are bad days. The industry is going through lots of changes right now. With more emphasis on wellbeing now than ever before. Employers are more aware on how much they can and cannot push their staff psychologically. The benefit of this can result in better way of life for ALL involved. Happier employees, happy customers, better food, better business. Makes sense, right?

Being a chef is a love/hate thing. I could ramble on, but I know you get what I’m saying here. We mostly all feel the same.
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I hate being a chef, it’s awesome. This summarises my feelings to an extent. Although hate is a very strong word. Too strong, in fact. I may update the image/title to say Being a chef pisses me off a bit sometimes, but it’s pretty cool. 

​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

Update: There seems to be some mystery squiggles and characters in this post. You can read a clearer version on Medium (CLICK HERE) I really can't work out how to sort this.

What does it take for you to take a day off ill when you are a chef?

​I’ll keep this one short and sweet because I feel like crap.

Have you seen that chef meme?

[phone call]

“Chef, I’m not well, I can’t come in…”

“Oh no! Which Hospital are you in?”

“I’m not in Hospital chef!”

“Ok…See you at 4 pm”

How ill do we have to be to be able to take time out? With the recent season of flu, colds and sniffles being upon us. Chefs around the world are trying to be heroes by turning up in kitchens to get their Mise en place done. 

Meanwhile, those 9 to 5ers are wrapped up with a Lemsip, Netflix and a thick blanket. They have called in their “Duvet Day” (yes, that’s a thing) With no drama from the Human resources department. They can take the deserved break to recover and feel better.


Jealous, moi? Totally! Too many occasions have I been in a kitchen when I should have been resting. Too afraid to say, “I need my bed”. Dose up on pills and carry on. It’s almost like a badge of honour to be working while being unwell. But who is the mug? We joke about the snowflake/millennial generation, but are they the ones who’ve got it right? 

Why bust your ass at work for that £8 per hour, when a day off could be priceless? Living your best life should not involve trying not to sneeze into the Court Bouillon!

Now, obviously, when I talk about being ill, I’m only really talking about mild colds and not full-on Influenza. Here, I’m just really talking about the disparity between the hospitality industry and the office and retail sector. Chefs and service staff have to be sicker than the average to warrant time off. It is frustrating when a co-worker calls in sick, but let’s be honest, we moan about it, but life goes on. The job gets done. Also, when it's sincere, we would all prefer that the sick staff member kept their “dreaded lurgy” to themselves.

And yes. We all know the Environmental Health view on sickness. But here, I’m really just talking about the work/sickness culture. Do you work when you should be recovering? How easy is it for you or your employees to take time off? What can be done to make it easier?

With modern knowledge, we are very focused on the issues with mental health. We know people need to try and speak up when they have a problem and should not be stigmatised for it. But how can we expect this when people are still afraid to call in for the common cold?

I told you that I feel like crap. I’m now heading back to bed. It is my day off anyway, so I’ll be back at work tomorrow. I’d love to spend more time linking in stats and quantifiable research to this blog, but I really don’t have the energy. My wife and kids are giving me zero sympathy. I just want my mummy…..sniff!

​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