The truth...

My industry is full of hostility, It is full of negativity, it is full of people that are quick to stab you in the back. The life of a chef in a typical restaurant can be summed up in three stages and doesn't last more than a few years at best.
Yes, as with anything, there are exceptions to the rule. There are those lucky few chefs that find a place and stay there for most, if not all of their entire careers. There are those restaurants that have almost no turnover for chefs, and the occasional chef does find a place to call home for many, many years. I am truly happy for those few exceptions. For the rest of us, well, good luck, it's just the nature of the beast. I hope to someday find that restaurant to call home for years and years.

The Stages of Life

Stage 1
The Honeymoon Phase
Everything is wonderful! You love the new job, you are praised regularly for your hard work. You might even get a small bonus here and there. You work your butt off to get everything in place, all systems running smoothly, food cost in line, labor cost under control, quality where it needs to be. You work hard to meet and exceed the expectations of the restaurant ownership and upper management. You spend more time at work than you do at home. Your family doesn't mind, they love you and support you every step of the way.

Stage 2
The Routine
You're now used to the day in day out of running the restaurant. You're used to the long hours, the hard work and you don't mind the every day monotony of your job. You look forward to writing your specials everyday and you really enjoy the small bits of variety your job provides you. Food shows, order days, inventory once a month. Off site functions like festivals catering events. Through it all, your family still sticks by you and supports you. The hours are long, 65-75 hours a week. But, it's a tough gig, you knew that going in. There are no such things as holidays off, birthdays, piano recitals, church, family events and functions. These things only exist to you if you can get lucky and schedule them on one of your 2 days off, if you actually get lucky and get 2 days off. No one really tells you if you're doing a good job or not. You just keep doing what you're doing, assuming that all is well.

Stage 3
Put out to Pasture
By now you're pretty much on top of your game. You've been through a lot at the restaurant that you call home. You've got your routines in place, and you don't spend as many hours at work as you used to when you first started. You're now down to an average of 60-65 hours a week. Manageable.
Then something happens. You are asked to do things that seem unreasonable. But, giving it your best, you start to spend more hours at work.
The more you do, the more is asked of you until you get to a point that you realize that you have set the bar for yourself (and now your staff) so high that there is nothing left but completly unreal expectations. You were at the top of the hill only a month ago. Now it feels like you're in first gear and giving it the gas, but still slowly sliding backwards down the hill.
Seeds of doubt are now planted in your head. Not about the restaurant, but about yourself. You start to doubt your own abilities as a chef, and even start second guessing your career choice.
You decide to stand up for yourself. You will no longer be taken advantage of and used like a doormat. Walked on and left behind.

But, it's too late.
You're at the point now that you're ready to be relieved of command.
The long hours.
The lack of respect from your upper management/restaurant ownership.
It's too late.

You let go. You decide to let management have their way. If they feel they can do better, then let them try. And they do, (try).

The rest is history. Hopefully, we learn from our mistakes and find another gig that pays as well, and keep an eye out for the warning signs to stop the madness before it starts. Chances are, the last place you were where you got burnt out at is doing the same thing to some other poor unfortunate chef. You've moved on. You've found a new home, and this time, hopefully, it's a permanent one. You'll be one of the lucky few.

That's what keeps chefs going. Hope, the hope that we'll be one of the luck few.

Eat well,
J.G.

Kitchen Confidential Updated Edition: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly (P.S.)