Which came first: sexism in restaurant kitchens, or the lack of female representation at the Michelin Star awards? Which came first: lack of investment in female chefs, or their near-absence from restaurant reviews, media interviews and documentaries? These are the chicken-and-egg questions that have been plaguing me over the last two weeks: in which Michelin awarded just one female chef a new star, celebrity chef Jason Atherton declared sexism in restaurants was a thing of the past, and 70 women in hospitality penned an open letter in outrage.
The figures around female chefs in the UK are as familiar as they are stark: just 17 per cent of professional chefs are women. Women are at the helm of only seven of London’s 75 Michelin-starred restaurants. In 2021, I wrote a book called The Female Chef, about 30 women redefining Britain’s food scene; since then, only two new female-led restaurants have been awarded Michelin stars.
In their open letter published in The Telegraph, chefs including Sally Abé, Chantelle Nicholson, Dara Klein and Joké Bakare were clear on the inequalities they have faced working in British restaurants. “Sexism has been and remains a pervasive issue in our industry, shaping the culture of our kitchens in ways that diminish the potential and contributions of countless talented women… from inappropriate comments and behaviours to unequal opportunities for advancement,” their letter explains.
Helen Graham, former executive chef of beloved London restaurant Bubala, and a fellow signatory, points out that this behaviour is “so endemic, it isn’t even recognised as sexism” – enabling the industry to turn a blind eye. “Women have been made to feel uncomfortable or scared in the workplace for too long, and we need real change: more women in managerial roles, greater accountability, and safer spaces to report sexism.”
The accounts of harassment, verbal and physical abuse and prejudice faced by some female chefs read like something from a different era: being pressed up against, molested, told to “man up”, told they won’t get promoted in case they have kids or told they’ve only been promoted because they’re good looking. They are the result of a workplace culture that in some respects hasn’t really moved on for decades.
The hierarchical, hyper-masculine brigade system by which many restaurant kitchens are still run was pioneered by Auguste Escoffier in the Savoy Hotel in the early 1900s (around the same time the Michelin guide was founded, in fact) and modelled on the seven years he spent in the armed forces. It’s a system that has given rise to egregiously gendered stereotypes around cheffing and cooking.
“There is this stereotype of women being cooks at home. Then when someone says the word ‘chef’, there is immediately this poster-boy image,” says Vanessa Dorward, executive chef of Bingham Riverhouse. We know the sort of poster boys she means: stressed, sexy, tattooed men who can “handle the heat” and who, when they shout and swear at their staff, are admired as tortured geniuses. They star on our magazine covers, flash their knives on recipe shows and are glorified on Netflix. What they do is science, art, graft, pain, intense – but never anything so mundane as cooking.
Both male chefs and the media representation of male chefs reinforce stereotypes, putting some women (and men) off the label. One renouncer of the term “chef” is Asma Khan of Darjeeling Express, for whom the term is too closely bound up with systemic inequalities within hospitality. Khan’s kitchen is collaborative, everyone is paid the same, and both pay and working hours ensure her team can balance their work with their home and family life.
She’s one of several pioneering restauranteurs to have shown that a kinder, more equitable kitchen with better hours is no impediment to culinary success – yet these metrics have yet to be incorporated into our most lauded award schemes.
On the contrary, when Michelin produced a video for the ceremony designed to showcase the achievements of female chefs, it only served to shore up stereotypes around women and the restaurant world. “It was deeply problematic,” Sally Abé says of the video, which explored why Clare Smyth (three Michelin Stars) had not had kids, how often Chantelle Nicholson (one Michelin Green Star) got her hair cut, and how much quality time Ash and Erin Valenzuela-Heeger (Young Chef Award) spent together.
“Men would never get asked about the mundanities of their day-to-day lives out of work,” says Gemma Bell, whose eponymous PR company represents multiple Michelin-starred restaurants and chefs. “Can you imagine a male Michelin-star chef being interviewed on stage about how he fits his work around childcare?”
“The video seems to have struck the wrong chord with many people,” Nicholson observes. “The sentiment of showcasing wonderful female chefs was great, but it wasn’t shown in the correct environment, nor was it a celebration of those/us women.”
To champion female chefs; tell them they’re “doing a brilliant job” (as Gwendal Poullennec, international director of the Michelin Guides, said at the ceremony); but then award 21 men and one woman, Emily Roux, a new Michelin star – with a white jacket that clearly designed for a man – felt tokenistic at best, insulting at worst.
“I understand Michelin aren’t the ones running restaurants – but they are the most looked up to and respected guide in the world,” says Abé. “There is a lot that could be done with the power and money they have, if they genuinely want to support more women in this industry.”
No one knows who the inspectors are, or how they go about awarding their most celebrated, sought-after gongs; everyone knows how much stress chefs put into getting and keeping them. Sheila Dillon, journalist and presenter of The Food Programme, highlights “the appalling stress, the mental health issues, even suicides associated with some of the starry restaurants,” adding: “It seems mad that those women who are changing kitchen culture and making the workplace better – that is not something Michelin are interested in rewarding.”
Of course, so much of the magic of Michelin comes from the mystique – yet this mystique also protects them from any scrutiny. “They are incredibly secretive and pride themselves on impartiality: solely judging quality of food,” says Roux. As Abé points out, it’s difficult to even play a game when you don’t know the rules, let alone win it. “This is how systemic oppression works,” she continues. “It feels like a secret club which we will never be part of.”
“I’m sure behaviours in kitchens and attitudes would change pretty quickly if workplace culture was part of how Michelin rewarded restaurants,” argues Adam Hyman, founder of CODE, an online community and resource base for hospitality. Yet even if Michelin didn’t factor that into their assessment, there are ways they could support young women looking for a career in restaurant kitchens, and reverse the number of women who feel forced out of them.
“They should look to be creating scholarships to encourage women into the industry, as well as giving more to support to women and providing them a platform to succeed,” Hyman continues. In Nicholson’s view, many of the restaurants which she would “deem of a Michelin star level that have not been awarded one [are those] which don’t have the biggest PR machine or reach.”
“It’s always the money that stops us,” says chef Julie Lin of GaGa in Glasgow. “The majority of investors are male. Not all of them, but the majority,” points out Bell, “and most of them are more inclined to invest in male-run businesses.”
Bell despairs too at the lack of representation of female chefs in the media. “Toxic kitchen culture, often glorified in the media, must end,” Graham says. “Instead, we should celebrate the incredible women creating nurturing, compassionate environments.”
Dillon adds: “These women are doing thrilling, fascinating things, cooking in ways that are bold and adventurous. They are changing culture, making the workplace better and more diverse. They care about sourcing and sustainability. These are the things diners – and aspiring chefs – increasingly care about. There seems to me to be a growing divide between what Michelin are looking for, and what the rest of us are looking for from a restaurant.”
Yet the women who signed this open letter – and the hundreds more who have come out in support – aren’t just looking for better representation at Michelin, in the media or the World’s 50 Best. They aren’t just looking for fairer working practices or more investment in them and their kitchens. They want an end to separate award categories, gendered assumptions around stamina, skills and childcare, and other myopic lenses through which they are seen as less than their male peers. They want mentorship, training programs and equitable hiring practices that support chefs of all genders and backgrounds. They want systemic change and, finally, the world seems to be hearing their cry: they can stand the heat – and they want the patriarchy to get out of the kitchen.
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