A memory etched in my mind is of Yves Thuries, French pâtissier,
standing tall beside an elegant display of amazing sweet confections in a clean
crisp white hat, neckerchief, double breasted chef’s jacket and apron. The man looked
stunning, clean and proud before his patisserie perfection.
That was a photo which to this day I still recall, appearing
in a magazine some 30 years ago.It is the sole reason why I chose cookery for my
profession. Even as a 12-year-old boy, I wanted to be just like him and dress in
his uniform to feel the pride.
Flash forward to last week and I was asked to do a photo shoot
for a recently published book. When the photographer arrived, we set up in the kitchen,
me in my uniform, apron, jacket, hat and neckerchief.
It was then that the photographer asked me, “can you lose the
hat and throw some flour on your face”.
I was aghast at the request. Do they ask a doctor to spatter
his face with blood for realism before a shoot, do they ask a barman to be inebriated?
I think not!
That day the photographer learnt a lesson in what pride I take
in my uniform and how hard over 30 years I have worked to desire to wear it every
day.
A day later a dust storm enveloped our region, yet walking down
the street I saw two expatriates walking from their accommodation to the local restaurant
district – wearing their chef’s uniform.
I also received my monthly subscription to a gourmet magazine.
In an era where it has become vital for those of us who have chosen cooking as a
career to continually push HACCP and watch food, health and safety issues, I find
it absolutely abhorrent to find modern trusted food journals allowing photographs
of chefs dressed with open jackets, no neckerchiefs and in torn, paint-speckled
dirty trousers or worse still, jeans!
This was the same magazine that three decades before, inspired
me into the amazing world of cookery – through the professionalism of the uniform
of Yves Thuries.
I now fear showing most magazines to my apprentices. I fear they
might think that these chefs, purporting to be “cutting edge” are the acceptable
standards of the kitchen. They are not!
Professional standards
Cooking, for those who have chosen it as a career, is a highly
regarded trade. Just like you would not wish to see photos of a brain surgeon with
dirty torn jeans and a packet of cigarettes in his pocket, I also do not desire
to see fellow colleagues in magazines in inappropriate states.
I respect the forefathers who slaved in ancient kitchens to give
us an industry to be proud of. I believe in white chefs hats, neckerchiefs, chefs
jackets buttoned all the way to the top and black or checker pants with hair tied
back. Some young punk chefs think that the cursing of Gordon Ramsay or being cavalier
and filthy makes them cool and avante garde chefs, I do not!
It makes you a disgrace to a trade that deserves better. We all
do long hours in the kitchen and we all live for our jobs, but do not denigrate
the kitchen to nothing more than bar food commissaries by disrespecting the uniform.
Our uniform dates back to the mid-19th century, created by Marie-Antoine
Careme, while it was French chef Escoffier who encouraged his kitchen staff to wear
suits outside of work to signify professionalism.
We don’t have to wear suits, but would you want to be operated
on in hospital by a doctor that wore his scrubs to work?
What sets us apart from home cooks, hobbyists, weekend BBQ afficionados
and day workers, is our professionalism, integrity and artistry. Denigrate the industry
by appearing sloppy, out of uniform, wearing jeans, no neckerchief or with unbuttoned
jackets, makes us stray far from the professionalism the industry deserves.
Stay true to the cause, fame and ego in check; professionalism
and respect for our past is the only way we can demand higher salaries and any kind
of future for the next generation of chefs.
Aaron Maree is a pastry professional with 30 years experience,
currently based in Bahrain.
He has recently published his 15th cookbook, Arabian Dreams.
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