An Open Letter to Restaurant Chefs
By Chef Raffie. #26/0040.
An Open Letter to Restaurant Chefs Who Think Yachting Is Easy
Dear Restaurant Chef,
I’ve seen your Instagram.
Beautiful plates.
Microgreens placed with surgical tweezers.
Sauces swirled with the confidence of someone who has a dishwasher, a pastry chef, and a prep cook hiding just off camera.
Bravo.
Now allow me to introduce you to the luxury wellness retreat known as the superyacht galley.
A place where culinary dreams meet marine engineering, sleep deprivation, and the opinion of people who can’t tell the difference between cilantro and parsley.
First, your brigade disappears
Remember your brigade?
Your sous chef.
Your pastry chef.
Your prep cook.
Your dishwasher.
They’re gone.
Not on break.
Not late.
Gone.
On a yacht, you are now:
Chef
Sous chef
Pastry chef
Baker
Butcher
Fishmonger
Nutritionist
Purchasing department
Inventory control
Dishwasher
Sanitation officer
All inside a galley roughly the size of a walk-in closet with anger issues.
And the floor moves Constantly.
Enter the Chief Stewardess: Director of Global Culinary Strategy
Now the real magic begins.
The Chief Stewardess walks into the galley.
Three months ago she was selling scented candles at a duty-free shop in Gatwick or was a bartender in a dive bar somewhere in the hood.
But after watching half a season of Top Chef, she is now Vice President of Guest Culinary Expectations.
And God forbid you get a weekend off as a compassionate gesture from the owner for working 90 days straight without days off! Rest assured that on your return you’ll find the galley totally rearrange by guess who? The chief stew because according to her nothing can’t be found in the right place!
She says:
“Chef… the guests want something light tonight.”
You ask what “light” means.
She answers:
“Maybe lobster… but like… healthy.”
Ah yes.
The legendary keto detox paleo lobster cleanse.
A cornerstone of modern nutrition.
But what she’s really telling you is that she is the one who wants the F&@5$3 lobster
The Deckhand Culinary Consultant
Just when you recover from the lobster conversation, a deckhand appears.
He has been polishing stainless steel for six hours and is therefore spiritually prepared to offer culinary guidance.
He leans into the galley and says:
“Chef… have you thought about tacos?”
Thank you, Professor.
Thirty years cooking in three continents and I never considered tacos.
The entire culinary world will hear about this breakthrough.
Then comes the Captain.
The Captain recently watched a YouTube video titled:
“5 Easy Michelin Star Tricks Anyone Can Do At Home.”
So naturally he stops by the galley to say:
“Chef, I saw this guy reverse-searing a steak with a blowtorch… maybe we try that tonight?”
Of course, Captain.
Let me just blowtorch a Wagyu ribeye while the boat is rolling like a drunken metronome.
What could possibly go wrong?
The Guest Diet Matrix
Dinner preferences arrive.
Guest #1: vegan
Guest #2: gluten-free
Guest #3: keto
Guest #4: “vegan except seafood”
Guest #5: allergic to garlic
Guest #6: allergic to onions
Guest #7: doesn’t like fish that tastes like fish
Guest #8: only eats organic food flown from Italy
But remember…
“Keep it simple, Chef.”
Meanwhile… crew food
While preparing a seven-course tasting menu…
you also cook for 10 crew.
And crew are the most honest critics in gastronomy.
A deckhand will taste your food while smearing his arroz con pollo with ketchup and say:
“Chef… the chicken is a bit dry.”
Thank you, Anthony Bourdain of the swim platform.
Your critique has been noted and forwarded to the International Bureau of Poultry Moisture Control.
Provisioning reality
Restaurant chefs call a supplier.
Yacht chefs call three islands, two fishermen, and a guy named Miguel with a cooler.
Half the ingredients arrive.
The other half are “coming tomorrow”.
Tomorrow means maybe Thursday.
Thursday means God knows.
Midnight service
Finally, the day ends.
You clean the galley.
You lie down.
You close your eyes.
Then the radio crackles:
“Chef… guest cabin two would like a grilled cheese.”
At 2:13 am.
Because obviously the pinnacle of maritime luxury is nocturnal grilled dairy sandwiches.
The truth nobody tells restaurant chefs
Restaurant kitchens measure technique.
Yacht kitchens measure sanity.
Technique is important.
But try plating scallops while the boat is pitching 15 degrees and the Chief Stew is asking if the foam can be replaced by a lighter sauce!
That, my friend, is advanced gastronomy.
Final thoughts
So yes, dear restaurant chef.
Working on a yacht is incredibly easy.
All you need is:
- culinary mastery
- mechanical balance
- psychological resilience
- insomnia tolerance
- and the ability to smile politely when the deckhand suggests tacos again.
Nothing complicated.
Just another day in paradise.
Signed,
A Yacht Chef Who Finally Understands Why Pirates Drank So Much Rum.