If you have ever worked in hospitality, you know the feeling. The long shifts. The missed birthdays. The relentless pace. The industry is full of passion and adrenaline, but it is also full of burnout. And I have been there more than once.
Before becoming a private chef in Cornwall, I spent years grinding it out in professional kitchens. You work late. You sleep badly. You push through, because that is what chefs do. But it catches up with you. The physical exhaustion. The mental fog. The sense that life is just a series of services, with no time in between.
Private cheffing changed that for me. Not overnight. But slowly, and with intention. And at the heart of it all? A humble dish of braised beef that reminded me what food is meant to be about. Let me explain.
The Breaking Point
There was a stretch where I was doing six day weeks in a high pressure kitchen. We were short staffed, fully booked, and constantly firefighting. I was skipping breaks, drinking too much caffeine, and barely speaking to my family. My body felt wrecked, but I kept showing up. Until one night, halfway through service, I completely shut down. I was standing at the pass, and I just froze.
That moment forced me to rethink everything. I needed to find a way to stay in the industry I loved without losing myself to it.
The Shift to Private Dining
When I took the leap into private cheffing, it was terrifying. No rota. No salary. No guarantees. But it gave me back something I had not felt in years—control. I could choose when and how I worked. I could plan rest into my week. I could say no when I needed to.
Private dining is still hard work. But it is purposeful. Each event is intentional. There is prep, service, and clear space between. That rhythm gave me room to breathe again. Room to cook with joy, not just survival instinct.
The Beef That Changed My Thinking
One of my first private events was a winter supper for a small group of friends. I made braised beef shin with roasted carrots and buttery mash. Nothing fancy. Just slow cooked, deeply flavoured comfort food.
As I served it, one guest looked up and said, “This is exactly what I needed.” That hit me. Not because it was clever or technical, but because it made someone feel something. That is the point of food. That is what I had been missing in the chaos of restaurant life.
That dish is now in A Private Table, and it still reminds me why I do this. Because food is not about showing off. It is about connection.
Building Better Habits
Since going private, I have learned to work differently. I plan rest days. I set boundaries. I prep smart. I keep evenings free when I can. I even take a holiday now and then. That would have been unthinkable ten years ago.
I also work on fewer events, but do them properly. That means I can give clients more time, more attention, and a better experience. It also means I still enjoy cooking, which makes all the difference.
Learning to Say No
One of the hardest things is saying no. No to last minute jobs. No to back to back events with no recovery time. But every time I say no to something that does not fit, I say yes to something that does. To rest. To family. To doing the job well instead of doing it constantly.
Finding Balance in the Chaos
This job will always have its pressures. Guests running late. Equipment not working. Weather doing its thing. But the big difference now is how I manage those moments. I come in prepared, rested, and with a plan. That calmness affects the whole event.
I used to think hustle was the badge of honour. Now I think consistency is. If you can keep showing up, cooking well, and staying sane—that is the real win.
A Message for Other Chefs
If you are reading this and feeling the strain, let me say this: it is possible to stay in food without burning out. You might need to change the way you work. You might need to make hard calls. But there is a way to do what you love and still look after yourself.
Talk to people. Take breaks. Trust your skills. And do not be afraid to slow down. The food will still be there.
Bringing That Balance to the Plate
Every private dining experience I create now carries those lessons. The food is still refined, still full of flavour, but it is grounded. It is thoughtful. It comes from a place of clarity, not chaos.
That is what clients feel when they sit down to dinner. The calmness behind the cooking. The comfort in the flavours. The intention in every plate.
Want to Taste the Difference?
If you want a private chef experience built on balance, warmth, and food that means something, book your experience today. Let us create something brilliant—without the burnout.
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See you at the table 🍽️