A year ago on this day I walked into the offices of a law firm in Sandton to work as a junior chef at their restaurant. This was a contrast from the banker who had been here before as a client. I walked in wearing my chef’s uniform carrying my knife bag and lunch box.  As I sat at reception in that uniform I felt so out of place, like I did not belong there. That would be the last time I would appear at reception and actually sit down. When you are kitchen staff you are confined to back doors and basements.

From that day onwards I had to acclimatize myself with using back doors, going through basements, arriving at work at ungodly hours and before everyone else. I was now part of support staff, the people that clients did not get to see. I had to contend with life in a basement kitchen without a window. On most days the only time I would enjoy fresh air would be on my way to the train station either going to or coming back from work.

Prior to working at this restaurant I had done a few shifts at the restaurant at Prue Leith Chef’s Academy, where I studied. But even that did not prepare me for what I found in practice. Deciding to go and work in a commercial kitchen was a personal decision I took as I wanted more exposure of what the industry is like instead of wondering in perpetuity. I studied part time at school and there was no requirement for practical experience other than 15 shifts (five shifts each in the hot, pastry and cold kitchen) at the school restaurant.

My day in the kitchen started at exactly 6:30am. The head chef collected me from the reception and walked me to the pastry kitchen where I was greeted by the pastry chef and her team. I was surprised to find so many women, 4 women and only one man.

In my head I had imagined that I would find more men. Everything about that day was very strange. It became a day of de-mystifying the culinary profession. From arrival, using back doors; no induction, you just get thrown in the deep end.As soon as I arrived there I had to make cupcakes. There was no hand holding, I had to find my way.

About that lunch bag, I had always been that person that carried lunch to work. Even if not lunch, just some snacks to nibble on, to keep hunger at bay throughout the day. Little did I know that a lunch bag doesn’t belong in the kitchen. This was the second time I arrived somewhere carrying a lunch box when it wasn’t required. I recall in my first year as an articled clerk at PricewaterhouseCoopers I had arrived at a restaurant carrying my lunch bag because no one had bothered to explain what an audit lunch is. All I knew was that we were going to have lunch and I didn’t have any cash on me, so it was safer for me to bring my own lunch.

On my first day of work as a junior chef I left my house at 5:30am without eating breakfast. As I was busy with my work I kept hoping someone would announce a tea break of sorts, but no such luck. 8am came and went past, then 10am and by eleven I had already given up on breakfast and looked forward to a lunch break at 12.

By 1pm no one had said anything and I could no longer pretend to be coping, so I asked the time for lunch. The response I got was, “What lunch? What is that”?

If it was not for one of the cooks sympathizing with me around 3pm I am sure I would have collapsed from hunger. He asked me to come with when he went for his smoke break and got me a packet of mixed raw nuts. I almost cried because of this act of kindness. From that day on I knew that I had to forget about eating for nourishment. It became about eating to fend off hunger.  I almost shed more tears when I opened my lunch bag at the train station and had a banana stare back at me. I had had a tough day in that kitchen because of the lack of food, and sadly that became the story of my life in the pastry kitchen.

A Chef and her food

I soon learnt that the pastry kitchen had a rule that if you happened to do a shift in the hot kitchen and incidentally get some food there, you could not accept the food without arranging for a plate of food for everyone in the pastry kitchen, all eight people including the scullers. I remember one day I came down from hot kitchen with a plate of food. People nearly bit my head off that day, making so much noise about the food and me being selfish that I ended up not eating it. That’s how I found out about the rule. You have to figure these things out for yourself. Imagine leaving a plate of food when you are hungry.

The lack of real food in that pastry kitchen made me question the diet of chefs and why people who make good food for others fail to look after themselves. I could not reconcile the two and it also didn’t make sense to me as nutrition was one of the first modules covered at chef school. I survived my stay in the pastry kitchen by eating breakfast at home, regardless of how early it was. This would carry me through until about 11 when I would have a scone with tea and then drink lots of water for the rest of the day.

Between the starvation in this kitchen and the aerobic step classes at the gym, I managed to lose weight while working in a kitchen. Don’t ask me where I got the energy to exercise after a 9 hour shift on my feet from.  All I know is that those gym classes became my refuge, a place I could go and shake off all the day’s happenings and also recharge. It was the only way I could get home and still be a good human to my family.

Lots of manual labour

How each day in the kitchen ended – clean down

By the end of this day I had learned an important lesson and one that I tell all foodies with dreams of culinary success. If you love food, do not spoil your food experience by switching from being a customer to be a chef. Stay a customer, it is a better life. It may look glamorous on Food Network, but the reality is far from it. It is a lot of hard work.