An executive chef runs the kitchen. In a hotel that means every outlet, from the signature restaurant to banqueting and in room dining; in a standalone restaurant the title is often chef, head chef or chef and owner, and the work is the same. The executive chef sets the menu and the standard, hires and develops the brigade, and answers for every plate that leaves the pass.
A day in the role at the highest level
The chefs I interviewed describe the day in terms of presence. Éric Frechon, then executive chef of Epicure at Le Bristol in Paris, told me that being present in the kitchen and always checking the work are the essentials of consistency and of leading a team. Peter Goossens, then chef and owner of Hof van Cleve in Belgium, with three Michelin stars and four decades behind the pass, put the demand bluntly: the profession asks 300 percent of you, the best is never enough, and every day you have to be critical of yourself in order to do better. The chef who asks less of themselves than of the cooks has, in effect, stopped leading, and the cooks notice.
Consistency is the operating problem the day is built around. Eric Ripert of Le Bernardin in New York told me that the greatest challenge in a restaurant of that caliber is making sure every guest at every table has the best experience possible, whatever the reason they came, because the standard cannot vary with the kind of evening the guest is having. A kitchen like his sends out several hundred plates a service, and each one has to land at the same level as the first and the last of the night, regardless of fatigue at hour eleven.
The executive chef’s day also runs through the cooks rather than over them. Guillaume Galliot, executive chef of Caprice at Four Seasons Hotel Hong Kong, describes himself as coach and collaborator, cooking with the brigade so that the chef de cuisine and senior cooks run their own development line each day, with the chef tasting and editing rather than dictating. David Kinch, then chef and owner of Manresa in California, told me he has learned to rely on his chef de cuisine: he sets the overarching vision and wants everyone to contribute, with the chef de cuisine putting a particular stamp on certain dishes. Guy Savoy frames the role through rugby, as captain and coach at once, putting the right people in the right positions and encouraging them to play their best.
Then there is the temperament the day requires. Emma Bengtsson of Aquavit in New York told me that patience is a large part of how she keeps the kitchen open and collaborative. Some days that is hard, but losing your temper costs more than taking the time to teach someone, and she makes room for any question, however silly. Joan Roca of El Celler de Can Roca in Girona told me that managing a team inclusively, according to each person’s talents, is the only sustainable path.
What the people in the book say
“This profession demands that you give 300 percent of yourself. The best is never enough. Every day you need to be critical to perform even better.” Peter Goossens, then chef and owner of Hof van Cleve in Kruishoutem, Belgium
“Being present in the kitchen and always checking the work are essential ingredients to consistency and to successfully leading a team.” Éric Frechon, in A Wealth of Insight (2019)
“On the flip side, as head chef, knowing when to ask your team questions and when to let them solve problems for themselves is equally important. The feeling of accomplishment for being able to achieve something on your own is one of the greatest tools of motivation.” Emma Bengtsson, chef of Aquavit in New York
The path to it
The brigade is the path. Since Escoffier the professional kitchen has been organized as a hierarchy in which technical skill is assumed at every rank: commis, demi chef de partie, chef de partie, sous chef, chef de cuisine. A commis is expected to know the basic cuts and preparations on day one. A sous chef is expected to run a station alone. The executive chef has come up through those ranks and has usually run someone else’s kitchen before running their own.
The chefs in the book describe that climb in plain terms. Albert Adrià, then chef of Tickets and the elBarri group in Barcelona and now of Enigma, entered El Bulli at fifteen because his brother Ferran was head chef and needed cooks. He worked, ate and slept at the restaurant for two years, moved from station to station and ended up in the bakery. He also told me that as soon as you become head chef, your learning slows down, which is one reason the chefs in the book were in no hurry to skip the apprenticeship. José Andrés came up under Ferran Adrià in the same kitchen, and carries one line from it into his own operations: on a cold April day with no reservations, Ferran asked for the best dessert cart anyway.
Hotel kitchens appear in the path as often as restaurants. Richard Ekkebus of Amber at The Landmark Mandarin Oriental in Hong Kong has also held the executive chef position at the Royal Palm in Mauritius. Chan Yan Tak of Lung King Heen at Four Seasons Hotel Hong Kong was earlier executive chef of Lai Ching Heen at the Regent Hotel in Hong Kong. Nicolai Nørregaard of Kadeau hired a head chef so that he could learn the basics of running a professional kitchen. On the hotel side, Damien Bastiat, then general manager of Ballyfin Demesne, names the executive head chef Michael Caines as one of the two people who shaped his career, and Michael Ziemer, then general manager of Mandarin Oriental, Taipei, was steered toward hotel management by the executive chef who interviewed him. For the practical questions, see the question on how to become an executive chef and the question on whether culinary school is worth it or you should start in a kitchen.
What it asks of you
It asks you to be in the kitchen, checking the work, every service. It asks you to hold a standard that does not move with your energy or the room’s mood, which Ripert says is the hardest part of the job. It asks for patience with the people learning under you, and the restraint to let them solve what they can solve themselves, as Bengtsson describes. And it asks you to accept, as Adrià did, that the long apprenticeship is where most of the learning happens, and that running the kitchen is where it slows.