Chef’s table NZ

Everyone who wants to become a chef eventually asks the same question: do I need to go to culinary school? It sounds straightforward, but the honest answer is — it depends. And nobody seems to want to say that out loud. I've worked in professional kitchens for years. I've seen chefs who came through culinary school and chefs who came up entirely through the ranks. Both can be exceptional. Both can be completely useless. The piece of paper doesn't decide that. So let's actually break it down. What Culinary School in NZ Looks Like In New Zealand, the main pathways are through institutions like NZMA, Le Cordon Bleu (Auckland and Wellington), AUT, and various polytechnics offering Level 3 and Level 4 culinary certificates. Courses range from six months to two years, and fees vary widely — from around $5,000 for a certificate programme to upwards of $30,000–$40,000 for a full diploma at a private institution. That's a significant investment. And before you sign anything,...

 I grew up in a world where music came on plastic discs. You'd scratch one and lose the song forever. Then one day, someone handed me an MP3 player, and just like that — the disc was dead. Nobody mourned it for long. Then came the smartphone. A camera, a map, a bank, a library — all collapsed into a slab of glass that fits in your pocket. I remember thinking: this is it, this is the peak, it can't get more surreal than this. I was wrong. I've been cooking professionally long enough to have seen trends arrive and die. Molecular gastronomy. The quinoa explosion. Avocado on everything. Food comes in waves, and so does technology. You learn to read the tide. But AI feels different. Not like a wave — more like the ocean floor shifting. We're already seeing it creep into hospitality. Reservation systems that predict no-shows. Inventory software that orders before you even notice you're running low. AI-generated menus optimised for margin. Front-of-house chatbots that hand...

 When I became a head chef, I thought I was ready. I'd spent years as a sous chef — running sections, covering service, stepping up when the head chef was away. I knew the kitchen. I knew the food. I thought the next step was just more of the same, with a bigger title and a bit more authority. I was wrong. The gap between sous chef and head chef is one of the most misunderstood transitions in the industry. From the outside it looks like a natural progression. From the inside, it feels like starting over in a completely different job. Here's what I wish someone had told me. 1. You stop being a cook. You become a manager. As a sous chef, your identity is still tied to the food. You're hands-on every service. The craft is yours to own. As a head chef, the job shifts beneath your feet. You spend more time thinking about your people than your plates. Who's struggling. Who's about to quit. Who's causing tension and how to deal with it before it hits service. The best ...

People on the outside look at a professional kitchen and see the shouting, the ranking, the "yes Chef" culture, and they think it's ego. They think it's chefs on a power trip. They think it's outdated, toxic, something that needs to be dismantled. They're wrong. Let me explain what a kitchen actually is before we talk about how it runs. At any given moment during service, you have people moving fast in a tight space with knives sharp enough to take a finger off, oil hot enough to cause third-degree burns in seconds, open flames, heavy pans, slippery floors, and the clock running against every single one of you. There is no margin for confusion. There is no room for "wait, who's in charge here?" Someone has to be. Everyone has to know their place in the chain — not because of tradition, but because of physics. Because of the very real consequences when things go wrong. That's what the hierarchy is. It's not a power structure. It's a sa...

 Let me guess. You watched a cooking show, maybe a documentary, maybe even a movie like Boiling Point — and something clicked. The energy, the creativity, the passion. You thought, yeah, I want to do that. And honestly? I get it. I've been there. But after 20-plus years in professional kitchens, I want to have an honest conversation with you. Not to put you off — but because I wish someone had told me this when I was starting out. The TV version vs the real version On TV, kitchens look electric and glamorous. The chef is cool under pressure, the food is beautiful, and everyone goes home happy. In reality? You're on your feet for 12–14 hours. The kitchen is hot — like, really hot. You'll miss birthdays, weekends, Christmas dinners, and New Year's Eve with your family. While everyone else is celebrating, you're behind a pass making sure their celebration looks perfect. That's just Tuesday. The physical toll is real Your back will hurt. Your feet will hurt. You...

 Hey there, and welcome to Chef's Table NZ! So… who am I? Well, let's just say I'm a Head Chef somewhere in Auckland who spends way too much time thinking about food. Like, way too much. Whether I'm at work, at the supermarket, or just eating a late-night snack, my brain is always somewhere in the kitchen. I've been cooking professionally for over 20 years, and somewhere between the chaos of a busy service and the quiet satisfaction of a dish coming together just right, I thought — why not share some of this with the world? This blog is my little corner of the internet where I'll be sharing: Recipes I love (and some that I've royally messed up 😅) Stories from the kitchen — the good, the crazy, and the delicious My thoughts on food, eating out, and the NZ food scene And whatever else is on my mind! Twenty-plus years in the kitchen and I'm still learning something new every single day — and that's exactly what I love about this craft. So pull up a cha...