Ómós Digest #92: Knowing your worth.
By Cúán Greene.
Hello Everyone!
Thanks for joining us! This week’s newsletter is free to read. We think it’s an important topic that everyone should have access to. In this article, Cúán brings transparency to how much a chef earns in Ireland and beyond and how to know the value balance of a job.
The Ómós Digest is a reader-supported publication, of which all contributors are paid. Please consider supporting this continued writing, research, and expanding our amazing team by upgrading to a paid subscription for €5 a month or €50 a year. This newsletter brings you on that journey about the food you were looking for, or perhaps never knew existed. It is our quest to expand on what we don’t know and to share with those who care.
Without question, the most engaged-with article I have written has been ‘Time to replace the brigade’ which looked at combatting the status quo of how fine dining kitchens and restaurants are typically run. It was published before the mayhem surrounding Noma’s announcement of closure (cough) not-closure, which at the time took the media by storm, sending crowds of journalists to take a short hiatus from writing about the cost of a meal… to flock at the comments of René Redzepi, who earlier this year deemed the current fine dining model to be ‘unsustainable’. In contrast to this media frenzy, ‘Time to replace the brigade’, was inspired partly by personal past experiences of poor management, but predominantly by a desire for a different path forward, made imaginable by a handful of Netflix and Hulu shows released in 2022. I remember watching the likes of Boiling Point, The Menu and Bear, thinking, oh woah, shit’s going to hit the fan. ‘Time to replace the brigade’ to this day is the most daunting article I have written. I was worried about backlash and for my fellow industry to interpret it as an attack, rather than a hopeful aid. In retrospect, the response could not have been more positive and since then, I have had many (of which the majority are young hospitality workers) share their own experiences with me, which have both been positive and heartbreakingly negative accounts. Like with almost every article I write, I learn exponentially more about the subject after it is published. This now inevitable pattern is a result of the conversations shared with readers. During the aftermath of the article's release, I spoke with Cissy, one of our contributors, who introduced me to Countertalk. Countertalk is an online community focused on transforming the culture of hospitality, driven by British pastry chef Ravneet Gill and her team. Here was a platform not about our industry, but for it.
“I’m in a much better place financially but only through sacrifice. I’m a lot smarter about how much I charge, how I use my time and have built up multiple revenue streams that I wouldn’t have been able to do without going through the above. My intention with this article is to be more transparent about pay with you, this is my personal experience and I encourage you to do what’s best for you.” – Ravneet Gill
Countertalk’s articles throw the reader directly into the first-hand experiences of fellow hospitality workers throughout the U.K. It’s a welcome tonic from all the price-sensitive-click-bait articles and headlines that now dominate our newsfeeds. In contrast, Countertalk publishes insightful and honest interviews, of which one category is titled ‘My Salary’ and is centred around wages. It shares transparent accounts into the wage packages of renowned professionals. Ravneet shares a breakdown of the various salaries she has earned throughout her career (an article you can find here), while also interviewing well-known leaders within the industry such as pastry chef and author Anna Higham.
“I was hired as the only purely pastry chef on a salary of £27,000. I was with Lyles for 4.5 years. I was very proactive about making sure I had a yearly appraisal and was given a pay rise each year. When we opened Flor, I became Head of Pastry, Lyles Restaurants working between the two businesses 5 days a week with a salary of £40,000.” – Anna Higham
To put Anna’s contribution into context, her work on the dessert program, creating high-impact, produce-driven desserts at Lyle’s restaurant in Shoreditch, has greatly contributed to helping the restaurant reach the deserved cult status it has achieved, influencing many a pastry chef as a result. Her recipe book ‘The Last Bite’, published in 2022, centred around seasonal British fruits, is geared towards cooks and pastry chefs looking to upskill. Thoughtfully written and beautifully illustrated, she shares many of the recipes she has collected and designed throughout her career. Anna started at Lyle’s on £27K a year, rising to £40k. While the latter is hardly a salary to scoff at (many get by on less), considering Anna’s position, influence and achievements (not to mention working in a city like London), I couldn’t help but feel that her salary didn’t quite reflect her contribution.
Let’s be honest, someone like Anna could walk into any role. Hotels around the world offer pay packages with significantly higher salaries and benefits, which neighbourhood restaurants like Lyle’s would have no ability to match. However, Anna isn’t that kind of person. Undoubtedly, she takes pride in place and wears her heart on her sleeve, like many of us. After Lyle’s, she moved to River Café, an institution in London (and a seedbed for chefs of notoriety like Jamie Oliver, April Bloomfield, and Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall) for the same salary she had just left. However, the River Café offered a better work-life balance, and could afford to increase her salary to £48k, 6 months later. I admire both Anna and Countertalk’s candour to share such sensitive information. On one hand, the pay packages of reputable restaurants such as Lyle’s become public – this might affect personal and professional relationships. However, for those in the know, the wage packages offered by Lyle’s are a signifier of what restaurants can afford rather than what they are prepared to pay. It demonstrates to readers how low the margins are in restaurants, that even key roles and pillars to the business (like Anna) can’t be paid their worth. When I hear friends and family complain about the cost of restaurants, in particular the restaurants I respect most, I wonder how they would feel if the value of their work was indirectly and repeatedly questioned. Businesses’ of course have the responsibility to meet standards. Any restaurant that doesn’t is liable to fall under scrutiny. However, if produce is of a high quality, cooked well, served with care and respect, and ensuring that what is charged is reflective of both offering, experience, and the cost to create that experience, then they ought to be exempt from this constant conversation surrounding price. Although eating out today in Dublin might cost a lot of money, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s ‘expensive.’ It’s expensive only if the meal is not based on intrinsic worth. The very best restaurants provide a service that satiates, satisfies, and lasts in memory. The price is reflective of the quality of the experience + present-day operational costs. Failing to understand that, is frankly a reflection of how much we undervalue the cost of food and with that, those who diligently prepare it.
If you have ever been to River Café, you will know it is a transformative experience. In fact, you have probably recommended it on any given occasion thereafter. Deeply glamorous yet charmingly informal, the restaurant is located in a beautiful setting on the Thames Wharf. There’s an air of sophistication, reverence and an abundance of taste that you can’t but allow yourself to fall mercy to. Because of its reputation built over 30 years, the River Café has a loyal clientele that sees value in its offering. I certainly fell into the category of diners that afternoon who were eating here for an occasion rather than their weekly lunch. What united us all that sunny Friday afternoon however, was our willingness to be whisked away into the world of River Café, where beef tartar and artichokes, or crab and bottarga, washed down with chilled rosé reigned supreme. It's true, my wallet was significantly lighter than when I came in. However, I left having learned things about simplicity and beautiful ingredients treated with unconditional care and respect. For me, this carried serious value and at a price I was dually happy paying for. I hesitate to say that dining at a great restaurant like River Café is much more than just a meal. Food is the single most important thing in life and a meal is what brings us together. Society for the most part has forgotten this and requires reminding about its exact value. For people like Anna, dedicated to the industry and taking pride in place, she acknowledges the significance of establishments like River Café and what’s more, they see it in her too. What Countertalk’s salary articles demonstrate is how driven both women have been to achieve success. They were willing to put the hard yards in earlier in their career to be where they are today. I wonder whether this mindset is still relevant?
In many instances throughout my career, I have accepted roles in restaurants where I knew the pay grade was low or that more could be earned by working elsewhere. However, there's no way I could have learned what I have to date if I didn’t make these decisions. Hard work and determination got me here and will be what gets me wherever I get to in the future. At the time my theory was - if I put myself in the right situation, I would invariably benefit in the long run. What I have come to, however, is a slight adaptation of this theory - ‘it’s the more you put into the world the more you get out of it.’ I believe this is comparable to all professions regardless of title. As an employee, the more you dedicate and give to others, the more you will receive. On the other hand, if a business embraces employees, allowing for openness, and giving staff a voice and feeling of ownership and care, they will reap the benefits of a thriving staff force.
To put this all into context, I should divulge some information of my own. I started working in kitchens at 14 years old (I am now 30). I’ve spent over 2 years of that time working for free while being in the fortunate position to live at home as a student. When I moved to Denmark in 2016, my salary at Geranium restaurant was €28,000 a year. When I moved to noma the following year, I took a small pay cut. When I returned home to Ireland 4 years later, as head chef at Bastible restaurant, I was earning a salary of €30,000. 6 months later I got a pay raise of €5,000. I worked 65-70 hours a week. Through my experience abroad, since coming back to Ireland I have been able to establish connections and relationships that have been favourable. Now experiencing an interlude from restaurants, I now pull on both my experience in the industry and connections to create work. I earn a salary that supports me, but I am dependent on drawing on a series of revenue streams to make that work. Like Ravneet and Anna, I was acutely aware that if I worked hard enough, one day my experience and perseverance would pay off, allowing me to be financially secure. It goes without saying that while I don’t regret my decisions, I certainly had to make sacrifices through my teens and 20s. Like Ravneet, it's worth mentioning that I don’t advocate or endorse this mentality that you need to drive your body to exhaustion to achieve success. But, this is an industry with notoriously low margins. Even the most senior of positions don’t make as much as you might expect, and what it takes to earn what you might deserve, has invariably meant overworking and underpaying employees. But now that's beginning to change.
The culmination of the increased cost of living, the aftermath of covid and awareness surrounding kitchen culture have caused a shift in how we work and take into consideration how we live. The new generation now values their time and working environment, which has resulted in a wholesale shift in the structure of businesses. Since the dramatic decline of the hospitality force, employees are less likely to be expected to work these chronic hours. However, the pay packages have only increased minorly. Consequently, businesses and experienced members of the industry find themselves looking at alternative sources of income to make up the difference. Since the launch of Substack, writers have taken to the platform in an effort to tell their own stories and make an extra buck. According to Substack, the big earners make upwards of $150k a year. Nicola Lamb, a pastry chef who writes Kitchen Projects has over 25k followers with 6% of those paying either £5 a month or £50 a year. Kitchen Projects’ weekly newsletter deep dives into recipes, taking an extremely detailed approach to long form recipe-driven articles, with a particular focus on process and alchemy. Her newsletter is used by pastry chefs to improve their knowledge, however, her writing and recipes are also accessible and appeal to home cooks, resulting in a newsletter that is suited to anyone that bakes. As a result, Substack is now her full-time job and it's probably right in saying that this transparency has influenced many cooks and pastry chefs to recently take to the platform. The big question is - is it a viable option?
The Author of Atomic Habits, James Clear, writes in his blog about the Time vs Money Dilemma. This expected value method is an extremely useful way of calculating how much your time is worth, however, he acknowledges that calculating the true value of time is actually much harder than it sounds and far more powerful than it seems, especially when in relation to value balance. In extreme cases, we all know what we are happy to do in exchange for our time. Nobody is going to work 1 hour for 5c. On the other hand, working 1 hour for €5000 will see most arms raised. However, things become a little less obvious, when in the context of what is truly important to you…
“Expected Value Methods can help you make big, strategic decisions about where to spend your time. What projects should your business focus on this year? Which uses of time aren't effective and should be eliminated from your daily work routine? Should you start a business that could pay off big time in ten years, but won't make any money right away or work a stable job with a reliable income? What is the best way to manage these tradeoffs?” – James Clear.
I get lots of people asking me about my Substack. How much time do I put into articles? Is it a good investment of time? Rather than directly applying James’s methodology to myself, I think about his theory every time I weigh up a job's value (perhaps even a newsletter’s), in respect of what it means to me or others, and therefore what is the job's value balance. If it's a job that I simply want to get paid for, well then I look at it predominantly from a monetary point of view. However, if it is work that might carry projected growth, lead to future endeavours or even give me a feeling of satisfaction or happiness by helping others or contributing to something even greater, then I am open to that value balance shifting. For example, the Ómós Digest might only have a tenth of the readership Kitchen Projects has (you can do the math), however, 13% of our readers are paid subscribers compared to their 6%. This shows that The Digest has become a powerful method of connection that has formed a dedicated and invested community of readers who I hope will remain with us (and continue to grow) for years to come. While the newsletter is certainly a time commitment and pays less than my hourly rate, it's a never-ending means for connection and development. With every newsletter I write and edit, I learn something new, create new relationships and form new opinions, while still contributing to my salary. We’re certainly taking the long road, but one I see the value in.
Worth a detour! Great article. Thanks
Super stuff Cúán