Chefs are nice people, really

I used to think that chefs were egotistical maniacs. Some of them are. But the vast majority of chefs are hardworking individuals coping with enough stress to send a beta-blocker into cardiac arrest. I spent more years than I care to admit moonlighting as a bartender and waiter. I worked with dozens of chefs. Some were brilliant, some had trouble frying an egg. Others spent more time with cocaine than flour. One tried to drunkenly glass me in the face with a bottle of Moretti, another became a very good friend. 

I learnt a lot from chefs: how to shuck an oyster, how to tastefully plate a dish, how to chain-smoke a pack of Marlboro Reds without throwing up. I also learned that a chef is the pacemaker of any good establishment. Chefs are rarely the problem: it’s the people around them. It’s the beady-eyed general manager who insists on keeping the kitchen open for an extra hour because Doris arrived late for her 89th birthday.