The Importance of Stagaires/Staging

The principles of stagaireship are as storied and important to the culinary profession as any. In the more classical European model of professional cuisinier upbringing, a stagaire was generally a young lad sent to a decent establishment with a little bit of survival money and a note attached saying: here’s our kid, put him to work, make something out of ‘em. Many of today’s top European chefs have partaken in such a ritual (look no further than Jean George Vongerichten’s experience at Auberge d L’Ill for a prime example).

To a degree, even this form of stagiareship still exists, though it has made way for the more common and accepted practice, of cooks of all ages coming to reputable restaurants to work for free for a pre-designated period of time. The inclusion of “all ages” is important because, for example, we at Mugaritz ranged in age from 18-32. In exchange for their hard work, the cooks are rewarded with experience, knowledge, sometimes housing, sometimes an open invitation to look back at old recipe catalogs, and often a letter of endorsement to help the said cook either continue onto another stage or professional position.

I can only assume that people pursue stages for a number of different reasons, and as such, one can expect to encounter a wide variety of personalities in a kitchen of this nature. Of course, the nature of the establishment, the culture it fosters within itself and projects to the outside world, and general logistics of the restaurant factor greatly on the type (and number) of people you come across. Though over the years I have taken many opportunities to embark on shorter stages of just a few days at restaurants around the US, the only one I can speak intimately of is Mugaritz, where for nearly four months, I literally lived, breathed and ate the tangible elements that were (and in my mind still are) the fourth best restaurant in the world.

I can’t speak to others motivations for coming to Mugaritz, but I will say that my decision evolved from elements of curiosity, adventurism, and the constant desire to be challenged. I was very fortunate to have been working for one of the better chefs in the United States, and for that matter, in one of the better families/systems of restaurants in the country, to position myself for this next step.

Then the email came, and overnight, the ship that is my life began to plot a new course.

When I got to Mugaritz I was shocked by the sheer number of people who worked there and, later, to learn the number of these people that were actually unpaid stages. I also came to learn that all of the paid employees had fulfilled stages there (and additionally elsewhere) prior to being offered any position. It was one of those moments as a cook where you kick yourself in the face and ask yourself, how the hell is it possible to have a restaurant that has 4 guys butchering fish 6 hours a day, for 50 guests? 4 guys was almost a full kitchen at Toro; here, it was the number of guys butchering fish. Certainly this cannot be efficient or practical to take lessons from.

As time went on, though, I began to get it. You know when you go to a restaurant and you get something so inexplicably refined or soigné, that you just sit there and think to yourself, man, it must have taken an army to make this? That’s what it began to feel like here, and as a cook, you begin to take a certain pride in seeing that, even if its something simple, even if its something that you had absolutely no part in making. Some nights I’d be beaten up, exhausted, stressed out, but I would hang around and watch the last few pastry courses go out. I’d watch dishes like the Apinabo, which is essentially a dessert based on Celery-root, and think to myself, this is Muga-f*ing-ritz! Someone could have come here from halfway around the world just to eat here, and I am a part of it. That feeling is worth more than a six-figure salary. Say what youwant, but cooks are proud people, even if they are humble.

Over the years, Mugaritz has gotten very keen about how they execute their stagaire program. They adopted a system that would ensure a constant ebb and flow of employees, which guaranteed them to be staffed to a max capacity, but also, ingeniously, created a cross over of employees thus allowing us to essentially teach each other the basic norms and position each other to be successful. Brilliant! A self-teaching, self-policing, self-coaching staff that performs at conspicuously high levels and, at the bottom of it all, works basically for free. A quote from that Field of Dreams movie keeps coming to mind.

So what did I get from my stage?

First, I learned a bunch of Spanish, a language I had studied before, but never really tested on the open road. Anyone whose ever even seen a professional restaurant kitchen in the United States knows that’s like going to a Star Trek convention and speaking fluent Klingon (for the record, why doesn’t Microsoft recognize that as a word).

Second, I learned to live on almost nothing. Unlike before, when I was working for next to nothing, now I was actually working for nothing! It’s actually a blessing in disguise, as you really learn to get resourceful and be clever with how to make your slim budgets go the distance. That doesn’t sound much unlike some job descriptions I’ve seen for Executive Chef’s in recent times, maybe that experience alone could prove invaluable.

Third, I lost a little bit of weight. Actually, let me put this more accurate, I got healthier. Part of living in a remote farmhouse and sharing staff meal with sometimes 60+ people meant being more conscious of food, and what I ate, and planning. Ever tried going to a supermarket on a Sunday in Spain? Didn’t think so. And staff meals were good, balanced, wholesome and nutritious. Generally we were getting the same premium of goods as our guests, though often secondary cuts and in much more bourgeoisie preparations. It also meant the end of late night strolls to Chinatown, where one could chase a gluttonous festival of peking raviolis and bahn-mi with beer and sesame donuts. This, combined with the constant movement and discipline that’s required to function here, actually makes you healthier! (For the record, there is still a spot in my heart/stomach for the things I just wrote disparaging remarks about)

Fourth, I learned some real team building skills, real strategies to work with an entirely different crop of cooks than I ever have before. Cooks who’ve spent times in the top kitchens around the world; Cooks who were younger than me; older than me; Cooks who were a lot of fun to be around (sometimes too much); Cooks who I didn’t want to spend a single surplus moment with; all kinds of cooks/people. It was this camaraderie, though, that really pushes you and teaches you. This network of people, is what really spreads the knowledge of food about, and what really keeps the progression alive. Much to Mugaritz’ credit, they supported the sharing of techniques and idea, including those from outside the restaurant. If there was a way for us to improve on something that was already somehow in the restaurants repertoire, it was given fair chance to be incorporated.

Fifth, I met some wonderful people. I made friends that I hope to keep for my lifetime, and that extends above and beyond the stagaires and back of the house folk. I met people from six continents, who all left something behind to be a part of a little farmhouse restaurant in the middle of a town that people fifteen kilometers away from can’t even find on a map. I met all of the famous people, and the entire behind the scene staff. We do this, not only because we like food (dieticians and Monsanto engineers like food too) but because we like people. That alone was worth my time and sacrifice to be here.

Sixth, I like to think that I learned a little bit more about how to actually cook like this, move like this; to dance. Restaurant life before I came here was all about execution, and the only definition of execution I really knew was “done”. Was it “done”? Did you get it “done”? Is someone doing it, I know it sucks, but it has to get “done”? Things could have been “done” too much or not “done” enough, thereby actually not making them “done” at all. You get my point. Here, it was more than just completing the task, could you break down your station without disturbing the partida (team) working feverishly just inches from you? Could you break down the fogones (burners on the stove, which were cleaned rigorously every service) with out making a single iota of noise? Could you do it cleaner, better, faster, and more efficiently than you had before? This was the finesse, the little variable (or variables) that draws the line in the sand between really good restaurants and exceptional ones. I’m sure, especially getting back to American kitchens, that I am going to return to the “done” environments in some way, but it was nice, if even just for a few months, to get in a few dance lessons at work.

That in mind, time for me to find a new kitchen to work in.

Thanks so much to everyone who has chipped in to help us out with knives, jobs, apartments, kind words, funny introspections, et cetera over the past few days. I want to send another personal above and beyond thanks to John Sconzo, Mike Green, Chad Ward, Tom Blodgett, Antoinette Bruno and everyone at Starchefs, Gavin Kaysen, Jeremy Fox, Shuna Lydon, Aiden Brooks, Tyler Lyne, Aki and Alex from Ideas in Food, Chez Pim, Michael Ruhlman, Michael Voltaggio, The Culinary Institute of America, Jamie Bissonnette/Ken Oringer et Family, everyone who has helped spread the word via Facebook/Twitter/Blogs/Carrier Pigeon, everyone @ Mugaritz and everyone @ home. This has been and continues to be a surreal experience that I am still having difficulty to understand.

Thanks to Mike Green and John Sconzo, who set up firstgiving.com/mugaritzknives, there is actually a possibility that we are going to recieve a little help to replace our knives! It is absolutely a blessing, because we had to budget so tight already to work and live here for 6 months unpaid, that replacing costly cutlery was never something we had prepared for. In fact, I told myself and my friends before I left, that I could afford to jettison anything on the return trip, except my books and my knives. If anyone else gets a chance to stop over to the site, and possibly help us out, we would be inexplicably grateful and thankful. Its one GIGANTIC step towards getting our careers/lives back on track.

Thank you again, and again, and again for all of the solidarity.

Greg Kuzia-Carmel

Here is a link to the Knife Fund.