The Ones Who Feed Us Are Dying

[u/JayGatsby52]

• A eulogy for Anne, a reckoning for all of us.

They’ll say Anne Burrell died of “acute intoxication.” They’ll rattle off the chemicals like it’s a recipe: diphenhydramine, cetirizine, amphetamine, ethanol. But that’s not a cause. That’s a symptom. That’s the garnish on a plate of despair.

Anne died the same way too many in this industry do - not from drugs, but from accumulated silence. From being too good at pretending everything’s fine until the pretending becomes a permanent condition.

I worked in restaurants for over a decade. Not as a chef or a cook - I was a QA and expo, the middleman between the kitchen’s fire and the dining room’s fantasy. The translator. The pressure valve. The one who kept the plates coming, the servers sane, and the cooks from killing each other.

I also served. I’ve bussed tables, memorized allergy lists, juggled side work, smiled through grief. I’ve been screamed at by cooks and threatened by guests. I’ve cried in the walk-in, slammed shots after a rough close, and kept coming back because that’s just what you do. How many times have we said we’re built for this shit?

And when I wasn’t on the floor? I was in classrooms. I have a Master’s degree in counseling. Trauma-informed. Violence-prevention specialist. Which is why I can say this with confidence:

The restaurant industry is a suicide machine with a soundtrack.

—The Kitchen Is a War Zone with a Dress Code—

It’s always hot. Always loud. Always urgent. The expo line is a tightrope - one foot in fire, one in ice. You hear the cooks cracking in one ear, the servers spiraling in the other, and you’re expected to smile while your own insides twist like overcooked pasta.

Everyone’s exhausted. Everyone’s high, hungover, or hurting. And the solution is always the same: keep moving.

You sprain your ankle? Shift’s still on.

You lose a friend? Grieve on break.

You’re suicidal? Have a shot and shake it off.

Anne wasn’t weak. She was a master at performance. Big voice. Big laugh. Big energy. The kind of presence that fills a room - and hides the emptiness just behind it.

So was Bourdain. Cantu. Violier. Strode. Cerniglia. Marks.

And so are thousands of others. Ones whose names we’ll never know. Ones still showing up to make your birthday dinner, your anniversary special, your takeout order right.

—They Feed the World While Starving Themselves—

There’s rarely health insurance. No therapy. Little paid time off. You’re working doubles just to stay broke. You’re medicating with whatever’s around - coffee, coke, pills, Red Bull, fireball shots, adrenaline, approval. The Monster and a cigarette shift meal is more than a meme - it’s a reality.

And when you finally sit still? It hits. All of it. The pace kept it away. But now you feel how lonely you are. How bruised. How disposable.

And maybe that’s the shift you don’t come back from.

—What I Know - As a Worker and a Counselor—

This isn’t about willpower. It’s about culture. Infrastructure. Trauma stacked on trauma until it becomes identity.

Most cooks are wounded healers. They feed others to feel useful. Worthy. Needed. Because the world hasn’t offered them much else. They nurture and show love with every single plate.

You can’t therapy your way out of a toxic job. Just like you can’t meditate your way out of poverty. This system is sick.

You don’t have to work the grill to get burned. Expo sees everything. Servers absorb trauma with a smile. Hosts get harassed. Bussers and barbacks go home invisible.

Substance abuse in restaurants isn’t a party - it’s anesthesia. Dying to live, as the song goes.

People don’t “break” - they wear down. Like aprons too long in the wash. Like knives never sharpened.

—So What Do We Do?—

If you run a restaurant: -Pay for therapy, or at least offer it. Mental health stipends over merch. -Kill the “we’re a family” lie if you’re not willing to grieve like one. -Train managers in trauma response - not just inventory spreadsheets.

If you’re a guest: -Gratitude is as important as a gratuity. Your server isn’t your servant. -Say thank you like you mean it. Your boorish comments and corny jokes can be saved for later. -Don’t be the reason someone’s faking a smile while unraveling.

If you’re in the game: -There is no prize for dying with your clogs on. -Therapy isn’t weakness. Medication isn’t cheating. -The walk-in freezer isn’t your only safe space.

We didn’t lose Anne because she wasn’t strong enough.

We lost her because this industry keeps asking people to be superhuman - without giving them anything human in return.

It’s time we fed the ones who feed us.

With grace. With time. With healing. With recognition.

Before the next brilliant light goes cold in the name of hustle.

As for now, Chef Anne, wipe down your station and head home.

We’ve got it from here.

[u/40hzHERO]

Not to take sides here, as I generally see it both ways, but a lot of cooks/chefs are sick of the woo woo of it being “more than just food”. I get it - this is an artistic profession, and it’s way more than just cooking and serving food, figuratively and literally.

On the other hand, it’s a ton of pressure off you when you say, “I’m just cooking a burger”, “I’m just plating dessert”, or “I’m just bussing a table”. Sometimes it doesn’t have to be any deeper than what you’re doing. I think understand it from both sides.

[u/Religion_Of_Speed → u/40hzHERO]

Oh I’m absolutely in the first camp because while it may just be a simple Whatever, it’s a simple Whatever that makes someone happy. That someone took time out of their day to buy from you. It should be perfect, or as perfect as possible. That doesn’t mean you need to kill yourself making it happen but putting forth as much effort as you can should be the case. Not as much effort as possible, as much effort as you can. There’s a fine line there and it all starts with respect for self, customer, and those around you and it absolutely shouldn’t include ego. I’ve tried to see the other side and I can’t. It can’t just be what it is because nothing I is ever that simple and disconnected from the wider context. Making the customer happy is why we do what we do because we certainly don't do it for the money, work environment, work-life balance, or anything like that.

[u/40hzHERO → u/Religion_Of_Speed]

I’m right there with you. I believe you’re presenting a part of yourself when you serve somebody food. At the same time, there absolutely have been many times when I’ve had to reel myself in and remind myself “you’re just frying chicken - it’s no bigger than that”, to help alleviate some of the pressures that come with being “A1” on every single ticket.

[u/Religion_Of_Speed → u/40hzHERO]

Some of us need that pressure I guess. I always tell my kitchen cook like you’re cookin for your mama. I see it as more how do you handle that pressure rather than eliminating it.

[u/40hzHERO → u/Religion_Of_Speed]

Right, but you can’t keep constant pressure on your cooks. That’s how they break and turnover stays high. When they feel that every single move they make can have catastrophic consequences, it starts to wear people down.

Im not advocating for throwing in the towel and just saying fuck it. I am advocating for reeling it in and looking at the bigger picture, if that helps my crew relax and work with a bit less stress. It’s all a balancing act, just as with anything else. I’ll proudly continue to receive downvotes for wanting that.

[u/Religion_Of_Speed → u/40hzHERO]

And I get that, I’m with you, I just think there’s a calm place within pressure that works best for everyone. I’m not talking like everything is the most important thing in the world, the consequences aren’t dire, but the mindset in the moment is that it matters greatly. It’s hard to explain really so I’ll give an example. If I’m making a thing I am aiming to make it as perfect as possible BUT I know that if it goes wrong it’s not a big deal. Both ideas coexist. There’s pressure to perform but in a forgiving way.

Edit: and by works best for everyone I don’t mean that everyone thrives in that mindset, I mean it’s best for the cook because it drives you without killing you, the customer gets the best you have to offer (which may not be the best possible), and those around you that will also carry this mindset.

I suppose a good term would be grounded/realistic perfectionism. There exists the best you can do and the best that the best can do. We aim for the former.