Humans Of The Kitchen

I was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma, but grew up in Venezuela from age 5 to 19, moving back to the US in 1989.

My love for cooking started as a child. Since I come from a big family on my father’s side, our house would fill with friends and family on the weekends, cooking together with music playing in the background. Even as a kid, I loved seeing how cooking brought people together. It’s one of the things I love most.

In December 1994, I moved to SF with the firm conviction I wanted to become a chef. I got my first job as a breakfast cook at a well-regarded restaurant after lying on my application and saying I had kitchen experience. My only experience was working as a waiter at a fast-casual establishment in Tulsa years prior. I was a shy, gay 24-year-old walking into a world I had no knowledge of, with no idea I’d gotten my first job at a restaurant considered a pillar of the culinary community with a chef that was a legend. I got fired three months later when everyone realized I lacked experience.

Nonetheless, it was an intense and eye-opening experience that I cherish and look back to even after 29 years in the industry. Having started my cooking career in SF, I was never subjected to any anti-LGBTQ behavior—quite the opposite. I understand that’s not the case for everyone; much depends on a restaurant’s location and management/ownership. But to make the restaurant industry safer, we need to keep being visible and educating those around us.

This career is beautiful, and I always tell people it’s the kind of career you enter if you love to cook and work with your hands. It demands a lot on your mind and body, and I was ready to walk away plenty of times. But in the end, seeing the joy on people’s faces when you serve them dishes they love makes it all worth it. If you genuinely want to do this, pay your dues, work hard, and it will ultimately pay off. Have confidence in your skills but be humble.

I love that this is my passion, and I’m lucky I can do it for a living.

My name is Stephan Ho Wing Cheong. I was born in the United Kingdom.

Gastronomy has been an essential part of my life for as long as I can remember. I first started working in kitchens in my father’s restaurant. Enjoying excellent fresh food every day spurred my love for the culinary arts. This led me to study at Westminster King’s Way College. After college, my first job was great, but I felt I needed to challenge myself to work in higher-end kitchens.

As my passion developed, so did my understanding and knowledge of certain products and how to bring bigger and bolder flavors together. I learned to make my mind work to create different and exciting things. As a chef, it’s important to be open-minded and proud of ourselves, just as it’s essential to learn when to keep our heads down and work.

Value your team, help each other to grow, and share your knowledge. Having a good mentor in this industry is essential. It helps push you to succeed. My biggest goal is to be happy and make good food.

Interview and shot 📸 🎤by @darklingcaptures official HOTK reporter in London 🇬🇧

I was born in the Philippines.
The day I discovered I could cook was the day I fell in love with this craft. So much so that I enrolled in the Center for Asian Culinary Arts, and started working in kitchens soon after graduating.

Though I’ve been in the kitchens for 20 plus years, quitting has never crossed my mind. Every day is a new experience and a constant determination to strive for the best and create dishes that make people happy.
I love this industry.

My passion for cooking keeps me coming back day after day, and one of my hopes is that food critics will realize how hard chefs and cooks work. If they understood the challenges we face and could step into our shoes, I’m sure they would have more sympathy before choosing their words and potentially damaging small businesses.

I worked as a dishwasher in high school, and I always remember thinking how cool the cooks were. After graduating, I transitioned to the line and started working in fine dining kitchens, something I knew I wanted to do from the beginning. The transition was intimidating and challenging at first but rewarding. The people you work with can often set you up to be a great chef when you leave.

It’s no secret a lot of things changed post-pandemic. One of the main changes fine dining went through was that everything got reduced. Gone are the days of free labor and massive teams with 30 cooks in a kitchen. It’s now more like the kitchen where I worked as a Chef de Partie. We’re a smaller team, but each of us is equally devoted and dedicated to producing good food.

My name is Giovanni Breglia and I was born in Bari, Italy.

The kitchen’s been a part of my life since infancy. I still remember smelling my grandmother’s ragu on Sundays. That’s where my passion originated. My love for my job motivates me to keep going, as well as my disposition to venture into new culinary routes.

My first kitchen job taught me a lot about sacrifice and lessons I needed to learn. One of the best lessons I learned is that you’re never too old to learn new things. Study and experiment. The kitchen is an art that must be explored in fully.

Cooking is the ultimate passport to understanding different cultures, as it has the power to bring people together and transport us to new places through a single dish.

I’m from Venezuela, and I’ve been in the United States for the last 2 years.

My brother owned a business back in town, a famous pastry shop called Golfeado Don Goyo. That’s where I started in the kitchen. My first career, though, is as a Chemical Engineer.

Working with my brother helped me discover a different part of myself. I would sometimes help with the Golfeados– a Venezuelan pastry similar to a sticky bun–working with the dough and getting it to the right consistency asked for by the clients.

My role now in the bakery I’m working is more about the food items that deal with natural conservatives. I’m the one who assigns the dates for how long a product could last on a shelf, giving it the exposure date depending on the requirements asked for by the client.

My name is Carlos Mario González Pluma. I was born in Mexico City in the Álvaro Obregón delegation.
My love for cooking began when I was very young.

I remember the moments spent with my grandmother in the kitchen, and the memories of my childhood I’m most fond of are spent around a table eating. My first taste of the kitchen came while working as a dishwasher in my friends’ grandmother’s inn.

There’s one word I’d use to describe my first kitchen job: stressful. It was a new world where I learned the importance of discipline, but it forever marked my life. Seeing how every task was accomplished to the millimeter resembled an expertly conducted orchestra. Everything worked like clockwork. It was phenomenal.

Knowing that each physical and chemical process is one of the many things I love about cooking. To me, it’s art, love, and history mixed into one. This profession requires a lot of love, discipline, and passion. Apart from the physical and mental exhaustion this career provides, the constant stress and busyness of the day making it different from others.

If I could give a word of advice to future cooks, it would be: At all times, love what you do. Fight for your dreams. Learn from everyone and share your knowledge with others. Respect your uniform, be humble, and support yourself among cooks. Try, read, study, and above all, become a master of your trade.

I grew up cooking with my family, so it was a connection I gained early on. Around the same time, I began watching the Food Network and other cooking shows that sparked my desire to work in restaurants.

I worked in a couple of casual restaurants, a few bars, and grills, and I gained a lot of knowledge and experience in cooking, but the environment in the places I worked didn’t suit my personality. I wanted to pursue high-end dining, and I felt people weren’t looking for the same thing in the places I worked. It was only a job for them, and we didn’t share the same enthusiasm for improving our craft.

When I opened my restaurant, I knew I needed to approach the kitchen culture differently. Overall, the industry in the States has changed from the times chefs would yell and scream. Not everywhere, but in some places. I don’t think screaming at people helps them retain information. It just makes them scared of you.

We’re a small restaurant, and I thought the only sustainable way to ran a fine dining restaurant lied in a small operation and an excellent small team. The focus became how to nurture the team players and give guidance and leadership in a way that would be appropriately received. We ensure every member gets something out of the experience and guide them toward whatever goal they have for their career.

One year after opening the restaurant, we earned a Michelin star. It was surprising for some, but I’ve been cooking at this level for most of my career. This star is a natural outcome of our hard work and how we cook at the restaurant. It’s not like I’m doing something whimsical, and I have to figure out how to keep it going, which is why I don’t feel any pressure about it.

Sometimes I think, wow, Michelin will come every year, and we have to retain the star, but it’s okay. I just have to keep doing what I do, work excellently, and the rest will sort itself out.