He asked me to think of a 'creative' name for him. But I think that it is as 'Chef' I will always remember him. This is for two reasons, he was in fact one of the assistant chefs, and the only who who made it through the whole season, but also because in set up week he was the only chef in the building. We had a great deal of trouble with head chefs all season but for that week we just had him. At some point during this week I called him 'Chef', he looked at me, blushed and asked me not to call him that because he was embarrassed (he is too cool to admit to being embarrassed but he was). That week he was a head chef, he did an outstanding job and I was blown away by him every single day.
So I'm sorry mr but by 'Chef' is how everyone will now know you on here!
And he was brilliant. Don't get me wrong it was obvious he still had a lot to learn and was still a long way off that Michelin star but he more than coped with coming in and cooking for thirty people everyday. And very cheeky about it he was to, it must have been about half way through the first week when I walked into the kitchen and he was stood in the back room in just his underpants, 'put some clothes on please Chef' I shouted, 'anything for you gorgeous' he replied with a wink. I knew at that moment that he was going to be a complete pain in my arse and that I would let him get away with everything.
Not long after that on a night out he sat down with me to tell me how keen he was to learn and progress. To learn how to be an amazing chef and his ambition to someday be a head chef (he was drunk at the time so I doubt he would admit to this sober. He was deadly sincere though)
He started outliving multiple head chefs and a few other assistant chefs. And he was far from being an angel, he led most of the drinking, he serenaded the whole staff accom as they went to sleep and as they woke up with very loud dance music and he started sharing his bed with one of my Hotel Assistants (much to the annoyance of his room mate the baby faced blond boy I have previously mentioned).
Now it is no secret that I didn't much like the head chef we had for the majority of the season. I didn't dislike him for the things he said, or the way he talked about me (couldn't actually give a toss about that), I didn't dislike him because the food quality took a huge tumble. I disliked him because when he came along the funny, caring, keen chef I knew disappeared for a while. I suspect that he came to the company believing that he was lucky, that he would be producing good food that he could be proud of and that he was suddenly told that everything was shit and he believed it. The pride went almost over night, the keenness went. I am under no illusion that my chef has been dabbling in illegal substances for some time but I also do not believe that the (obviously drug induced) change that came over his personality at this time was a coincidence. He stopped being cheeky and lovable, he started being irritable and miserable and sometimes downright bloody rude. He did and said some things to some girls that I hope he is ashamed of now. His skin went grey and his eyes died. There were always flickers of hope, of the old chef fighting to get out. And then he did something so bloody stupid he almost got himself fired. I was close to crying the day I had to write his disciplinary letter and hand it over. I hope he knows it was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. But I think in a way it was good for him, that it pulled him up, because from then on he started to come back.
Indeed he even started rebelling from the head chef, he would hide us bits of bacon or sausage for breakfast, strictly disobeying orders. He started taking more pride in his work. He started making me laugh again. At one point he was a day away from being sent home. I happened to be in the kitchen when he phoned his mum to tell her he was staying and he was over the fucking moon dancing about the kitchen.
He got to stay because in a moment of crisis he stood up and took charge. I said to him then, and I will say to you now, I have never met anyone who can stand up to the plate when needed like he can. And I was so proud of him. When I took him aside to congratulate him, he actually beamed, he had surprised himself with his own resourcefulness and he has yet to realised that he is actually a very clever young man.
And the head chef left and he blossomed once again.
Now I very much doubt that this is what he expected me to write, I think he expected me to write about the times he got drunk, the number of photos of him naked I have seen after he has passed out, of the times I walked into the kitchen and seen him involved in something incredibly stupid (snorting black pepper for example). They will come, I will tell them in time. I just wanted to get this out there first.
He once told me that everywhere he went there was always a woman there who felt she had to mother him, and that was me. I wonder if he asks the rest of them if he can see them naked as often as he has asked me. I believe he probably has!
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