Do Indian restaurants have a Noma problem?

René Redzepi’s fall from fame has sparked an important conversation about workplace culture in India’s restaurants. Some of the country’s top chefs unpack the reality of the kitchens they trained in—and what they’re doing about it

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It’s been a little over a week since René Redzepi quit Noma following a series of workplace abuse allegations. The once-venerated founding chef of the Copenhagen restaurant—five-time gold medallist on the World’s 50 Best Restaurants list and holder of three Michelin-stars—has fallen from grace as several former employees opened up about the psychological and physical torture they endured under Redzepi. The haunting stories don’t just confirm the tyranny of the top restaurant kitchen that the FX series The Bear spotlights; they go beyond. They tell a story of how the pursuit of culinary excellence can create irreparable damage for the people behind the scenes—damage that is cyclical and almost always starts at the top. 

And this culture didn’t start with Redzepi. It has been worn like a badge of honour by those who came up through it and chose to carry it forward. Before you knew it, enduring toxicity (in its many forms) in restaurant kitchens came to be a rite of passage for up and coming chefs. Chef Vikas Khanna (54), during his conversation with Vir Sanghvi on the latter’s podcast Table 1, recalls the racism and discouragement he experienced during his early days in French kitchens. From not being allowed to ‘touch pans’ and being asked to clean because he was ‘brown’, to being hit on the head with a plate at the age of 17, chef Khanna faced it all, much like many other Indian chefs training abroad. 

But the plot for Indian chefs training at some of the country’s leading restaurants hasn’t been very different. Chef and owner of Toast Pasta Bar in Mumbai, Devika Manjrekar’s experience of training in Mumbai kitchens hits a lot of the same spots as the Redzepi report—being belittled, overworked, underpaid and verbally and nearly physically abused (she once had cutlery thrown at her). She recalls standing up to it, a rare luxury for aspiring cooks in a labour-intensive country like India, where employee rights are a suggestion, and unionisation and speaking out are rarely an option. Redzepi-adjacent chefs in India, and the work culture they create, are unlikely to see a reckoning in the same vein, but it’s true that most top chefs working today have experienced it first-hand.

Chef Megha Kohli, of Addoni’s in Delhi, says she started at the bottom of the ladder in her early twenties, and quickly realised that the reality of cooking in a restaurant kitchen was far removed from the romantic idea of it. “Early in my career, I was explicitly told that kitchens run on hierarchy, and that questioning anything wasn’t encouraged. At that stage you accept it, because you’re trying to learn and prove yourself,” she shared.

Chef Avinash Martins of Cavatina and Janot in Goa talks about kitchen hierarchy like it is a military ranking. “We were taught there was a line of command—you just don’t question the chef. The chef has a vision, and you execute it. You couldn’t ask why you needed an ingredient in a recipe or give a suggestion. It was their way or the highway.” 

The hierarchy, however, isn’t the only factor ailing Indian kitchens. Long hours, low pay scales, emotional and verbal abuse all come as a side to the dream of working at some of the top restaurants in the country. It’s something that many chefs have accepted as “a part of the job”.

A young Amninder Sandhu, who has set up kitchens like Kikli, Barbet & Pals, Bawri, Tipai, was told to turn a deaf ear to public berating if she wanted to survive in the industry. “In many top restaurant cultures, yelling, belittling, and creating fear have been normalised as part of training. You endured it quietly because you assume that it was the price of learning the craft.” 

While acknowledging that perfecting cooking in a professional kitchen requires repetition, stamina, and time in front of the stove, Sandhu adds, “But there was constant pressure, very little room for communication, and a lot of fear around making mistakes in the kitchen, making those hours difficult to survive. The intensity of the work is necessary, the hostility is not.” 

“In older kitchens, some chefs just didn’t grasp how to speak to some employees. It bordered on crass and rude,” says chef Manu Chandra (Lupa, formerly Olive Bar and Kitchen, Toast & Tonic, Monkey Bar, The Fatty Bao, Olive Beach, Cantan).

Chandra admits he hasn’t always been blameless himself in that regard. “Verbal berating has a way of creeping into the most competent of places; I’m totally guilty of it as well. In the heat, intensity, and chaos of kitchens, when shouting across the line mid-service is the method to get the wheels moving, it happens.” He adds that as a team and its leaders start to work better together, it should naturally decline. “Set kitchens (like any other team) see a lot less of this. But, if something never changes because your attrition is sky-high, or in spite of your team bringing its A-game, then it’s a big problem.”

And going through all this for a pittance doesn’t justify it. While pay scales largely depend on the scale of the restaurant and the experience you bring to the table, low pay brackets have been a sore point across the industry. “The restaurant industry is, unfortunately, top-heavy, where a tiny handful make a lot more than the majority.” He attributes it to “inefficiencies at several levels”. He adds, “Many restaurant owners spend more on the interiors than the back-end workflows and kitchens, on marketing instead of training, on influencers over staff incentives…”

Today, after having gone through the grind, these chefs acknowledge that some hard parts of working in a restaurant kitchen are inevitable but toxic cycles need to break. Long hours, the intensity of a hot kitchen, repetition of tasks, and performance pressure are baked into the job description. However, intimidation, rigid hierarchies, low pay, inhumane working conditions, verbal abuse, and lack of mentorship are not. And they’re working to change that. 

“When I returned to Goa after taking a culinary course abroad, I noticed that most cooks here were unmotivated. The idea that they could be great chefs wasn’t inculcated in them,” says Martins. At his restaurant, Martins works with every staff member on their vision for the future. “I told the dish washer in my kitchen that I wanted to see him as an executive chef one day. And what do you know? He’s an executive chef now!” 

He’s also trying to right the pay scale and work-life balance with better salaries and frequent bonuses. “Kitchen staff work harder on holidays, special occasions, and weekends so other people can enjoy them.” He correlates a happy team with exceptional food. “If my team is in good spirits—smiling, laughing—they make incredible food.” 

For Kohli, cultivating creativity is key. “If my chefs have an idea for a dish, I tell them to cook and present it. Those ideas often evolve into something exciting, and if a dish makes it onto the menu, it’s named after the chef who created it. It’s a small way of recognising their voice and making sure they feel ownership over the food we serve.” She also prides herself on creating a “light-hearted, laughing” kitchen. “During prep hours, we often play music. It may seem like a small detail, but those moments create a sense of ease before the chaos of service begins. When people feel comfortable enough to laugh, share stories, and enjoy the process of cooking together, the atmosphere becomes far more collaborative.” 

Sandhu, on the other hand, is working to debunk the myth that intimidation builds excellence. “Discipline, long hours, and high standards are essential, but there is a difference between rigour and humiliation.” The pressure exists, but in her kitchens “it’s directed towards the work and the craft, not towards breaking people down”. Accountability is expected, but so is communication—and making mistakes. “They are given the space to learn and grow.” Her kitchen at Palaash in Tipai, for instance, is led by wives of local cotton farmers who have been given every tool they need to run the show without her, and a share in the credit.”

Chandra is most proud of the efficiency he’s created, by way of a comfortable work environment and helping his staff learn and improve. “It’s what sets them up to be successful in their career of choice.” 

Each has a long list of changes they hope to see in the industry for kitchen staff and chef aspirants, but for now it’s one step at a time. “Professional kitchens will never be easy environments; the craft requires dedication, endurance, and a deep respect for the process,” says Sandhu. “But you can run a high-performance kitchen without normalising hostility. Great work doesn’t need you to lose your dignity in the process.” 

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