Like so many of us, my culinary journey started washing dishes in mom-and-pop style restaurants at 14. I consider my professional career to have begun at 19, as a banquet prep cook at the Arizona Biltmore. I was just a vegetable cook, but it felt like I was stepping into something big. When I started, the Executive Chef, Siegbert Wendler, was on vacation. About a week into the job, he sent a postcard from Austria to the kitchen staff. I asked the Executive Sous where Chef Wendler went, and he said, “He went home to cook at a friend’s restaurant for six weeks.”
My teenage brain short-circuited. Why would someone spend their vacation cooking? Isn’t that the job?
Fast forward 22 years, and there I am in my first Executive Chef position, lights on late at night, trying to finish the end-of-month inventory. I’m deep in spreadsheets instead of sauces, with a to-do list that feels more like corporate ops than culinary craft, and it hits me like a rolling rack to the shin. Now I get it.
That postcard wasn’t about sightseeing. It was about reconnecting. Chef Wendler didn’t go to Austria to escape the kitchen. He went there to find it again.
We chase the Executive Chef title like it is the holy grail. And in many ways, it is. It is a role built on experience, hard-earned stripes, and an unshakable passion for food. But here is the hard truth they don’t tell you when you are climbing that ladder: the higher you go, the further you get from the fire.
The modern Executive Chef is expected to be a culinary Swiss Army knife, especially in the country club world. You are not just making food. You are making budgets work, managing schedules, wrangling vendors, overseeing banquets, building menus, smoothing out member complaints, coaching your team, juggling special events, and answering a million emails. Somewhere along the way, cooking becomes a luxury. The thing we fought so hard to do is the thing we rarely have time for.
Honestly, it can feel like a punch to the gut.
You didn’t get into this business because you love vendor negotiations or mapping out labor percentages. You got into it because you love food. The smell of veal stock simmering for hours, the satisfaction of nailing a perfect sear, the adrenaline of a busy Friday night service. That is the stuff that lights you up.
So how do we, as Executive Chefs, reclaim that joy while still steering the ship?
Start with this truth: you cannot do everything. And you should not.
The first step to reclaiming your time on the line is building a team you trust. Your sous chefs and kitchen supervisors should be more than order takers. They need to be leaders in their own right. When you train, mentor, and empower your team, you free yourself from having to micromanage every corner of the kitchen. That opens the door to doing what you love again.
Next, get smart with your systems. Use tech to your advantage. Inventory software, digital ordering, and automated scheduling. Whatever lightens the admin load is worth the investment. The more streamlined your operation, the less time you spend putting out fires, both figuratively and literally.
Most importantly, protect your cooking time like it is a VIP reservation. Block time each week for culinary tasks. Menu development, recipe testing, and even jumping on the line for service. Treat that time as sacred. Put it on your calendar and do not budge. If someone wants to pull you into a meeting during that time, the answer is simple: Sorry, I have an appointment.
If you are really feeling disconnected, take a working vacation, just like Chef Wendler’s Austria trip. Stage in a friend’s kitchen. Visit a club in another region and collaborate on a dinner. Come to PlateCraft. Cook without the weight of admin and management. It is not a break from work. It is a return to the part of the work that feeds your soul.
In the country club world, the challenges multiply. You are not just serving food. You are curating experiences. Members expect consistency, elegance, flexibility, and variety, all while keeping an eye on costs and margins. Banquets, seasonal menus, themed dinners, dietary preferences, and constant feedback from members mean your schedule is packed before you even start the day.
But there is good news. The country club kitchen at its best can be the perfect place to build balance. You often have the resources, the team size, and the culinary range to design systems that let you step away from the office and back into creation mode. Whether it is introducing chef’s tables, seasonal tastings, or hands-on staff training in butchery or plating, there are ways to blend leadership and craftsmanship if you make space for it.
Your team looks to you for vision. When they see you cooking, tasting, adjusting, and refining, they feel the passion. That energy is contagious. You are not just the boss. You are the chef. Showing that side of you not only recharges your battery. It inspires your brigade.
So build that culture. Celebrate food. Bring your team in on the why behind the dishes. Cook with them. Push them. Laugh with them. Show them that even at the top, the fire still calls.
The climb to Executive Chef is no small feat. It reflects grit, talent, and drive. But it should not come at the cost of what made you fall in love with cooking in the first place.
Chef Wendler did not go to Austria to get away from his job. He went to find it again. And if you are feeling buried under budgets, member requests, or inventory headaches, maybe it is time you found your way back to the stove, too. Because at the end of the day, no one gets into this business for the spreadsheets. We do it for the flame.
