Sear, grill and rage

Circa 2018: In what would be his last interview, the famous chef, Anthony Bourdain, finally admitted that Kitchen Confidential, the bible of the kitchen world that made him famous, was a regret. He repented romanticising the “bad boy” image that gave men license to act inappropriately, especially in the kitchen. This, however, wasn’t the first time that the late global culinary genius had shown remorse for endorsing “abuse”. He spoke each time a culinary figurehead got into a soup, whether it was Chef Mario Batali and John Besh, who were accused of misconduct in 2017, Tim Kitchin in 2021 or MasterChef UK fame Gregg Wallace in 2025 for allegations of inapprorpriate behaviour. 

When Noma’s chef apologised

Bourdain’s admission finally tore down the carefully crafted “bro-mask”, and showed how toxic life in the kitchen — irrespective of their Michelin standing — really is. A realisation that was triggered again as legendary Chef René Redzepi of Noma stepped down early last month, following accusations of physical abuse by his own team. 

While the Noma genius stated, “An apology is not enough; I take responsibility for my own actions...shouting, humiliation, and fear were simply part of the culture when I began, but I recognise these changes do not repair the past.”

The news shattered the carefully orchestrated façade of abuse as the rule book to achieve excellence that had become the norm since the advent of the Escoffier Kitchen Brigade, a military-style hierarchy system followed globally. Kitchen rage was real, and was now spoken about. 

Exceptions to the rule

But was opening up enough to change the habit that gave license for people to act inappropriately? After all, commercial kitchens were depicted in films like ‘Burnt’ and TV series like ‘Hell’s Kitchen’ and ‘Master Chefs’ as places that worked only with high-octane verbal and physical profanity. 

Turns out, there have been a few exceptions who designed the ‘anti-rule book’ in spite of their own personal experience. 

Says Chef Vikas Seth of Embassy Leisure, “Through most of my early years spent in hotels, restaurants and even cruise ships, I had witnessed abuse that wasn’t just verbal or physical, but humiliatingly personal as well. Working abroad was no better. Back then, however, most of it was rationalised either as banter or simply “this is what it is...” It felt wrong, but as a junior chef, your driving fuel was to do better; the fear of being reprimanded was something one really avoided at all costs, and focused on getting the job right.” 

It is an emotion that serial restaurateur Dharmesh Karmokar agrees with. “As the lowest bracket in the pecking order, we had little choice but to follow orders. Fear in the initial years was real and ironically turned out to be the driving force for most of us to do better to escape the backlash that would follow.” 

Abuse: a daily ritual

For Chef Suvaranjan Banerjee of The Oterra Hotels, kitchen rage and abuse, was a “ritual, where a day would start with a barrage of explicit verbal adjectives and unplanned work allocations with additional loads thrown in on whim, and often end with another barrage. Cuts, burns and bruises were earned battle scars that one had to be proud of.”

Concurs Chef Viveq Pawar of Roxie, who has been part of tough kitchens that built resilience, and toxic ones that just drained people into depression. Chef Viveq adds, “While battering, bruising and accidents were all part of the day’s work, what hit worse was the polite sarcasm.”

Expression cuisine specialist Chef Megha Aggarwal, who was one of the earliest ‘anti brigade’ advocates to talk about toxic kitchen culture, experienced abuse that nearly forced her to give up her dream. “The shouting, nagging and long hours of unnecessary work was one thing, then came the perils of a senior chef handing over a blunt knife for butchery just to test your skill during service hours,” she adds. 

Yet, most of them not just rose to prominence showcasing their passion for the craft — but they have done so challenging the archaic rule, thus turning into the new “institution” themselves. Chef Sabyasachi Gorai, a culinary legend and slow food advocate, is one such role model who began the Olive School to help young minds to evolve into thinking chefs rather than “rule-abiding” foot soldiers.

Schooling with empathy

What was the catalyst? A mix of resilience, realisation, and being in a position to enable the change, say Chef Gorai and Chef Seth, who began their new reign of “schooling with empathy” in Olive and Rain respectively. 

For Chef Johnson Ebenezer, who heads Farm Lore, the Indian version of Noma minus the scandal, the decision to have a kitchen that nurtures chefs than breed foot soldiers stemmed from a personal experience. “While I have been fortunate to never face abuse in the kitchen, I had long understood the impact of trauma. As a kid, I hated maths not because of the subject but the way the teacher ruled with a stick. So when I chose this field it was a de facto choice to mentor, not mandate,” he says.

Likewise, for Chef Banerjee, who based his model of “mentorship and accountability” on his past experience and a deep understanding of how it helps to lead by example. 

Clear line between banter, abuse

For Chef Oberoi and Chef Pawar, it is “no excuse, no exception” rule on shouting, humiliation, bullying and inappropriate behaviour. “You cannot use seniority or pressure as a ruse to disrespect. That said, of course, kitchens are high-intensity places that demand instant great results, so there will be voices raised, but the intent clearly has to be to get the work done, and not create bad blood. The base rule: Standards are non-negotiable, but tones are,” says Chef Pawar whose biggest challenge was to make the invisible line between banter and abuse, visible. 

For Chef Rahul Rana, who once helmed the award-winning Avatara, that learning came from his mentors Kuntal Kumar, Chef Shivsagar Dhandiyal and Chef Gajendra Bisht — culinary figureheads who showed how effective building a two-way relationship can be.  “When it comes to kitchen and performance, it all boils down to the understanding between you and your team, for which you need to be the leader not the boss. If I see someone not performing to their potential, I will call it out, but it comes from a place of growth, not frustration,” he says.

For Chef Oberoi, that demarcation came through extensive training to handle pressure situations, and working on communication, which allowed to build a “happy place where you would like to come every day.” For Chef Viveq, “that happened with keeping a check on team behaviour.” What helps is leading by example. “With abuse being a byproduct of power, it often trickles from the top so the correction needs to be made there,” says Chef Anuj Wadhawan, who once helmed the high-pressure Kheer. Now as a consultant, he believes that “kitchen design” too can enable kitchens to become less of a “brigade cantonment” and more a “place of collaborative excellence.”

(The author is a seasoned food columnist and curator of experiential dining experiences, pop-ups and retreats for chefs.)