When I began working in commercial kitchens as a line cook in my early 20s, I was under the impression that my mother’s generation had corrected the issues of sexism and we had indeed come a long way, Baby. But I was wrong and I took me an embarrassing amount of time to get the realities through my thick skull. I thought that if I worked hard, did my job well, and proved myself I would earn the respect of the men I worked with. Well, of course, I was terribly mistaken. Kitchens are still not a meritocracy. Being the only girl on the line, I did realize I would have to be just as good and even better than my male coworkers. I was surprised by the push-back I encountered. My male bosses and kitchen managers took deep offense if anyone, a waiter, another line-man, or a general manager praised me. However, the offended parties were very subtle in how they then went about undermining me. I would be called into the kitchen office and berated for minor mistakes like not cleaning something as well as I should’ve, not being able to lift the vat of oil back into the fryer after cleaning it without help, not wearing a bra on a few occasions, and even (so they said) not looking happy and chipper enough while working hard. I had to deal with rampant sexual comments and dirty talk by learning to talk like a sailor myself. I had to be self-deprecating when it was uncalled for. I was assigned the dirtiest jobs on the hardest stations while all the men in the kitchen were at the bar having their shift beers. I was hazed and felt up and took it in stride. I was also very confused. If I was doing my job well, why give me “the business”? Why undermine me by talking behind my back to the front of the house? Why make comments about my not wearing enough makeup in a hot kitchen? Why the eye rolling and nastiness? The unkindest cuts of all involved sabotage. In one Italian restaurant, the AC went out and we all labored under sweltering conditions in July. Myself and the other woman on the line were approached by the regional owner ( a big Italian fellow in a shiny suit) and he made a big show of apologizing directly to the two of us for the conditions in front of all the kitchen staff, because he thought we were too sensitive and therefore weak to endure adverse conditions. We were fine. We were doing our jobs well and efficiently. Our stations were meticulously clean. It was insulting. When the general manager at the same restaurant was on his honeymoon, I took over the job of cashier (we didn’t use a computerized system at the time). Exactly $100 went missing from the till. I was blamed and browbeaten and threatened with firing. I later learned that the $100 was taken from the strongbox under the register for which I had no key or access. The manager friend he left in charge had taken it (a banded bunch of ones) straight from the box. He was buying cocaine with it. I was framed as the scapegoat and berated in front of the entire staff. At several other jobs male coworkers let slip how much they were making per hour. Despite having seniority, more experience, and being objectively a better worker and placed on the most demanding stations, I was making far less. When I subsequently spoke with the boss about a 25 cent per hour raise to begin to fix the situation, I was laughed out of the office. My female coworkers (the few that were back there) were also paid significantly less. I was disappointed and flabbergasted. It didn’t make sense from a practical or business standpoint. Why torpedo and alienate valuable staff? Why shoot yourself in the foot? I gave a weeks notice after one refused (and very minor) request for a raise. The two managers and the owner called me to the bar where they were drinking and told me if I didn’t work out a full two weeks notice they would not act as references for me. It was in this way they expressed that they indeed needed me; it would be hard to find an adequate replacement for me even though I offered to leave only after I had trained my replacement. They said I had a bad attitude. I had an ANGRY attitude. I had been wronged, but they clearly didn’t see it that way. While they showed me no appreciation for work they had highly praised only weeks previous, I was the one who was “leaving them high and dry.” I understand now that men use their jobs to reinforce their manhood and when a woman coworker out-cooks them, they are threatened and feel emasculated. Why dies this have to be a zero-sum game? Can’t both male and female cooks be good at their jobs and share praise? Does the presence of a competent woman on the line automatically mean that the men are made lesser by us? The ultimate irony in all this is the pervasive idea that women are valuable and exclusive cooks in the realm of domesticity, but once you pay a woman to cook, men must always feel that they are better at it. Women are valued as cooks as long as they aren’t getting paid for it.
