Sally Abé, chef at The Pem in London, reveals in an autobiography the dark side of high-end cuisine, which can still hold unpleasant surprises. "I had to escape before becoming like the others," she says about a high-ranking restaurant where she endured insults and threats.
The story
It's often said that things were worse when they were worse in the kitchen, and that the new normal following the pandemic has sparked a profound cultural shift, leading to greater well-being and a new climate of harmony among the staff. Otherwise, one risks toiling alone, as increasingly insufficient employees need motivation. But is this really the case?
Sally Abé, renowned chef at The Pem in London, shatters this hopeful illusion in her autobiography A Woman’s Place in the Kitchen (as featured in The Guardian). She paints a very different picture, recalling her worst experience in high-end dining. "I've never admitted to working for that chef in interviews and rarely talk about my experience, even with friends and family. Since I don't want to tarnish anyone's reputation for my own benefit, I won't name the restaurant or those who worked there. But people need to know that places like this exist and that the experience, as horrible as it was, was formative."
Young Sally dreamed of that top-tier restaurant, which could have accelerated her training. She joined as a demi-chef de partie, working alongside the head chef, even though it meant a step back in the hierarchy and a pay cut of 3,000 pounds compared to her previous job. Her two years of experience, including various roles at Claridge’s, made her confident in her abilities. However, reality had unpleasant surprises in store, foreshadowed by the gloomy atmosphere during the morning mise-en-place, so eerily different from her previous experiences. And the service was no longer the burst of endorphins she remembered.
Officially, work started at 7 AM, but everyone actually arrived early at 6-6:30 AM, long before the lights came on in other kitchens. To her surprise, no one took a break or had a coffee with a cigarette in the afternoon; there was even a lack of courage to ask to go to the restroom. The competitive atmosphere exploded during a reshuffling of the team, with three chefs changing stations, boycotted by both their subordinates and those leaving the positions. Then the surprise: it was her responsibility to clean the kitchen along with the commis, who had been occupied with mechanical tasks all day. This included cleaning the prep areas on the lower floor. "I finished late, even at 2 AM on Saturdays, when we had to thoroughly clean everything after service."
The truth is that within those four walls, terror was in the air. Every occasion was an opportunity for the chef to threaten and insult the subordinates. "You'll never achieve anything, girl," he once told her. She endured for a few months, but after being reprimanded in front of the entire team for forgetting a sprinkle of chervil on the baby carrots, Sally packed up her knives to go home and cry almost every night. When she finally told the more amicable sous-chef of her intention to quit, he offered her a position in the meat or fish stations. "Once, I would have jumped at the chance, but I knew it wasn't the solution. I had to escape that place before becoming like the others."
