My Lord! My Lord! What hast Thou done,lately - Woody Allen

Chef Rene Margaux had put in a full day's work in the kitchens of Paris' famed Closserie des Lilas and had returned to his apartment at one in the morning on June 12, 1985. After showering he dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue silk shirt, both of which he was particularly fond. With a glass of Cognac he moved to his desk where, using a sterling silver Parker pen that had been given to him years before by his father, he wrote a note to his friends. "I have been working at the Closserie for more than twenty-five years. I am proud to have personally prepared meals for such notable persons as General de Gaulle, Monsieur Pompidou and President John Kennedy. Among others who have enjoyed my talents I number three Cardinals, a handful of bishops, four rectors of the Sorbonne, three chief judges of the supreme court and more cabinet ministers, generals and millionaires than I can recall. The critics, especially Monsieur Courtine, have not always been kind but we had an amiable relationship and I have never been ashamed of anything I have done in my kitchen.

"I am, however, bored to death. So bored, in fact that the thought of returning to work tomorrow is more than I can bear. I simply cannot face the supervision of countless future orders of steak tartare. I absolutely shudder if I allow myself to contemplate on the infinite number of steaks au poivre that wait to be prepared. I weep when I reflect that I am doomed to spend every remaining day of my life supervising the preparation of onion soup and fried oysters. Worst of all, despite my admiration for the music of the great composer Rossini, I detest the chef who invented the dish that carries his name. Tournedos a la Rossini may be delicious, but when you have prepared the dish more than 250,000 times the mere name calls up nothing but the deepest sense of revulsion. I apologize, my friends, for whatever inconvenience I am about tocause you but life has become such a bore that continuing is no longer worth the effort".

Margaux signed his letter, put it in an envelope and then, without even taking time to finish his Cognac, hung himself with a noose prepared from a silk cord he had purchased especially for the occasion. The cord, it should be noted, was a perfect match in color for the clothing he was wearing. His body was found the next morning. Several days later, Robert Courtine, at that time the senior restaurant critic for the respected newspaper "Le Monde", wrote that "Margaux did not commit suicide. He was murdered by a menu that was twenty years out of date".

Precisely what complex forces drove Rene Margaux to his death will never be fully understood, but his feeling that "life has become a bore" is not an isolated phenomenon among chefs. Although bored chefs are not committing suicide in massive numbers, several psychologists have been concerned enough to pursue the question of the levels of satisfaction and challenge chefs find in their work. Even though they were carried out completely independently, the research studies of Robert Morrison of the University of Michigan and Paul Dupont, at the University of Grenoble reached almost identical conclusions - that even though the suicide rate among chefs (which has always been significantly higher than that in the general population) has not increased dramatically over the last thirty years, more and more chefs are becoming discouraged and showing signs of psychological stress because they cease to see their work as challenging or rewarding.

Morrison, the American, blames the situation on boredom, "a pervasive feeling that life has become dull, uninteresting and monotonous". Dupont, the Frenchman, says that the problem is one of ennui, "the deep, aching weariness, passivity and dissatisfaction that results from feelings of hopelessness". Both research studies also concurred that the problem is most seriously felt by chefs working in highly traditional restaurants ("establishments where the menu rarely or never changes") and those involved with mass production, in institutions and in other settings where chefs are deprived of their ability to be creative by being merely a cog in a large bureaucratic structure.

By whatever name, the problems of boredom and ennui are real and present often painful situations that most chefs sooner or later have to confront. In recent discussions with more than twenty-five chefs here and abroad, each agreed that it is extremely difficult to maintain a deep love of food and a driving devotion to creativity when the need for mass market production, a sense of routine and a huge number of economic factors are among the major factors in one's work. Nearly all of the Americans and Europeans I spoke with concurred that at one time or another they had suffered from one of these syndromes. Others, while claiming to "know of" such cases, would not admit to ever having faced the problem themself. Interestingly, whether they admit to knowing the problem first or second hand, many of the chefs I spoke with have lists of activities that will help them to avoid becoming bored.

The Problems

James Rogan, executive chef at the Hyatt Hotel in Miami, Florida, says that even though boredom and ennui are threats to all chefs, they are problems most acutely suffered by hotel and institutional chefs. "The biggest problem" Rogan told me, "is the automatic limitation that an institutional kitchen places on one's artistic abilities". Unlike chefs who have full control over their kitchens, says Rogan, the hotel chef is part of a chain of command and cannot always make decisions on his own. More than being merely frustrating, Rogan says, this establishes a routine that is almost invariably boring. Sometimes, he says, "even the most minor changes on a menu involve telephone calls, memos, faxes and meetings with food and beverage people, public relations and other senior hotel management members. Really major menu changes", he added with a half-smile on his face "may also involve discussions with God". Rogan also feels that there are so many limitations set on the physical time of hotel chefs that they often "feel distanced from the food they are preparing". Even worse, "because of bureaucratic, economic and time pressures, many chefs often feel robbed of the will or interest to create truly great meals".

Noted New Orleans chef Paul Prudhomme, says that the problem also exists at "restaurants that think of themselves as creative", especially if a restaurant has become especially famous (as his has) for one or two dishes. Prudhomme says, for example, that "when I first invented blackened red fish I could not have been more delighted, because I had a new challenge to meet every time the dish was ordered. Now that I've sold more than half a million portions of it, I grimace every time I even hear the name." Prudhomme is honest enough to admit that no matter how much the dish may bore him, he will not take it off the menu because that would mean the loss of a great deal of money every year.

Industrial psychologist Ronit Kamil concurs to some extent with the logic of these chefs. "The situation exists", Kamil says, "and must be acknowledged, for the chef who becomes an automaton cannot have the same will to invest himself in his work as the chef who feels that he is a free agent". One assumes, says Kamil "that most people became chefs because of some need to be creative, but the chef who prepares the 1,000th or 100,000th portion of the same dish often loses touch with the originality of his creation". Woutrous Lap, formerly the executive chef at Tel Aviv's Sheraton Hotel and now working in the Gulf Emirates, also agrees, pointing out that "with too much repetition a chef loses his attachment to the food and becomes attached only to figures and right results". Chef Robert Zuckerman goes even further when he points out that "there is a certain element of inescapable boredom built into the profession when you realize that running an efficient kitchen automatically implies a ritual of repetition that is, by its very nature, counter-productive to creativity". "After all", asks Zuckerman, "how many times can you make a Hollandaise Sauce before you begin to hate eggs and chickens?" Under whatever circumstances, it should also be apparent that the bored chef (or the chef who hates chickens), no longer finding a creative challenge in his work, will generally produce boring food. This, in turn, starts a cycle of negative feedback, further frustration and anxiety, none of which are either personally or culinarily productive. Boaz Dror, also a hotel-based chef, adds to the picture by his observations that "the pressures of time and economics; the charmless cell-like office in which you have to spend so much of your time; and the tremendous amount of paper work also rob you of the ability to be creative".

Nor are chefs in their own restaurants immune from the problems of boredom. Steven Foote, one of the partners and the head chef at Chequers Bar and Grill in Atlanta, Georgia says that "the condition of being bored is not an illness. Its a symptom, "a sign that you've been slipping or a warning that you have forgotten just why you wanted to become a chef in the first place". In Toulouse, France, chef Lucien Vanel says much the same thing when he reflects that "boredom is not something that you discover overnight. It is something that sneaks up on you, either because you have begun to take things for granted or as the result of living too much on yesterday's glory".

Possible Solutions

Nearly all psychologists concur with Ronit Kamil who feels that one of the first steps in overcoming boredom is to acknowledge that the problem exists. Because boredom engenders anxiety and threatens one's self-image, that admission is not always an easy step to take. It is a necessary step, however, for in the same way that chefs need an audience to appreciate their work, there is also a need to share the problems. Loneliness, a sense of isolation, the fear of not being able to live up to one's own past repuartion, the fear that one has gone "stale" or even the feeling that one has failed to meet his or her own potential are all feelings that are tied up closely with boredom, and all form a cycle that, if not broken, become more and more full of anxiety. Overcoming boredom or ennui is, in the final analysis, a re-affirmation and ediscovery of one's self-value and creativity.

Nearly all of the chefs with whom I spoke concurred that even though boredom and ennui are always potential threats, they are not a necessary part of the profession because there are methods of avoiding or curing these problems when they threaten to arise.

1. Be constantly on the search for new forms of challenge.

Re-examine the dishes currently in your repertoire and ask how you can make them better.

Seek out new dishes and new variations of existing dishes to add to your repertoire.

Delve deeply into your present menu and recognize that finding easier and better ways to prepare existing dishes is also a form of creative challenge.

Expose yourself to new ideas relating to food and not relating to food. Talk, for example to your suppliers who often know more about their products than you do; study the potential of the people and produce you work with; read cookbooks and books about the history of food.

2. Even if you think you are already one of "the best" and cannot raise your food preparation, design or efficiency to a higher level, realize that it is new challenges that will keep you at the top.

Give up the idea of living on past glory and recognize that yesterday's victories are nothing more than invitations to new challenges.

Look especially at the simple things. Seek out ways to make potatoes as tempting as truffles; to find just the right twist that will convert an ordinary Sauce Beauharnais into a masterpiece whose beauty will take away the breath.

Get involved in training; think of ways of making your staff better; consider the possibility of offering master classes or of teaching young people who are just starting out in the profession.

3. Because feelings of isolation, of "being alone" are never productive, do not allow yourself to become socially or professionally isolated.

Find colleagues with whom you can talk about the state of the profession, new dishes and any ideas you may have, even if they sometimes seem outrageous or crazy.

Visit the kitchens of other members of the profession and invite them to visit yours.

Recognize that competition is not only something for our students. Competition with yourself and others is an ideal way to stimulate the imagination and to push ourselves to limits we did not know we could attain.

Dine out as often as you can to see and learn not only what others are doing but as a form of competition.

4. Do not allow yourself to be made into a robot or into a small cog of a large wheel.

Change tasks occasionally.

Repetition may be a necessary part of the chef's role but it should never become so ritualized that you have forgotten about creativity.

There may be no charm to a cell-like office, but make your office as comfortable and soothing as possible. Redecorate your office so that it either makes you smile or gives you a sense of aesthetic pleasure.

Find out what calms you down. Background music, magazines and books (about food or anything else) that pleases you should always be available in your office.

Instead of complaining about paper work and routine tasks, find better, easier or more efficient ways in which these can be done.

5. Instead of focusing only on the tasks of the day, let yourself have the pleasure of long-term planning.

Think now of the kinds of dishes you want to be preparing and serving in two years.

Plan in advance for seasonal foods. There are so many different products available that one need never be bored by the raw materials that come into one's kitchen.

6. If the kitchen you supervise is truly limited in its creative outlets (hospitals, old age homes, schools, or dishes that the boss doesn't want on the menu), invite friends and colleagues over for dinner parties or chef's tables in your kitchen.

7. If you do develop something you consider really great, try to introduce it slowly into work. Revolutions are rarely popular. Evolution works better.

8. From time to time get out of the kitchen. Withdraw into what ever world you want and recognize that enjoying the world of music, art, the opera, history, psychology or fine literature is every bit as important to your creativity in the kitchen as working for several weeks with a chef you greatly admire.

9. Taste new things and as you find new taste sensations that please you begin to think of how you can incorporate them into your menu.

10. Travel whenever you can and, in addition to meeting people and tasting new dishes, look as seeply as you can at the food culture and history of other people. Recognize that learning and education are life-long processes and add enormously to our abilities and repertoire.

© Daniel Rogov