Partying after work, photo David Yip
by DAVID YIP
I must be mad.
After working for my boss for 9 years, in 1997 I put my notice in, walking away from an annual wage of £26,000. Her final words, “that I will achieve nothing,” ring in my ears.
I start looking for Head Chef positions, but there are none in the Furness area. I apply for two in the Lake District, which will be a 30-minute drive, and another in Kirkby Lonsdale, 45 minutes away from my home.
At the interviews in the Lakes, I am left gobsmacked when the owners tell me they know who I am and my reputation precedes me. I attend the one in Kirkby Lonsdale, and whilst sat waiting to meet the owner, a man in a suit sits beside me and says, “This job is already yours, just don’t be cocky!” Confused, I ask, “How do you know that? And I’m never cocky!” He says, “I know who you are and what you can do, and I’ve told the boss that. My name is Thomas, by the way, and I’m the manager.”
To my total amazement, I’m offered all three positions.
I decide to take the position in Kirkby Lonsdale as Thomas seems like a nice, honest guy, with the bosses also being down to earth. My wage has been agreed at £24,000 per annum. My petrol expenses are also being paid by using a local garage and it going onto their business account.
It is then that the doubts start to kick in. Is my ex-boss right? Can I do this? What if I fail? What will I do for work?
My first day arrives and I decide to go through the menu prices, looking at suppliers and the cost to make dishes. It becomes instantly clear that although the business is busy, they are not making the correct percentage across many dishes. I arrange meetings with all suppliers and tell them I want prices to come down or I will go elsewhere. I ask that the menus be changed so we are making a minimum of 65% gross profit across all dishes.
I have been working for 3 months when two of my ex-colleagues from Clarence House ask if I have any work in the kitchen. Needing more staff, I employ them both. We all travel together each day, with them car-sharing on my days off. They tell me that my ex-boss became even more intolerable after my departure, with nothing being good enough and they had to get out of there. My new brigade all get along great and my boss is happy with the changes and growing custom.
I am there a year when my girlfriend, who works at Abbey House Hotel in Barrow, tells me her boss wants me to work there. I tell her, “They won’t pay my wages as I’ve seen the position advertised.” “They want to meet you,” she says. Again, I tell her, “I won’t move for their advertised wage, so I’m not interested.” A few days later, my girlfriend says her boss is asking how much will it take for me to move? I tell her £28,000 a year, knowing they will say no. I am left shocked when she tells me her boss wants to meet me and take me out to dinner!
Dinner is arranged in Ulverston at the Bay Horse restaurant, which has a great reputation for food. I am met by her boss and another man, who I’m told is the restaurant manager. We have drinks and wine whilst eating, and they ask me to critique the food. They tell me what they want, the problems they are having and how they see the business moving forward. After the meal, the restaurant manager leaves the table and her boss says, “Let’s see if we can thrash out a deal, shall we?” He asks what wage I want and I state a basic of £28,000. “What do you mean by basic?” he asks. I tell him, “After the issues you have mentioned, if I make your gross profit each month, I would like a bonus.” After pausing for a minute, he tells me, “I can do 28k, but I want you to hit the gross profit for three consecutive months. If you do, then I will give you a £500 cash bonus.” Taking a minute to think, I agree. The restaurant manager joins us again and we celebrate with brandies and a cigar. I leave them feeling quite drunk!
After first meeting the Head Chef at Abbey House 9 years previously, whilst I was starting my training at the Abbey Tavern, I was to take his position. I am back working in my hometown and will no longer have to commute so far.
The voices start immediately. You can’t do this! The place is too big! What will your family say when you fail? You’ll embarrass your girlfriend! Why not stay where you are? Impostor syndrome (which I discover I have in abundance) is when a person feels intellectually or professionally fraudulent. I don’t know if it stems from me quitting school early, my relationship with my dad, or my ex-boss, but I do know, to this day I can’t shake it.
On my first day at Abbey House Hotel, I discover there are freezers full of food which is well past its use-by date. The dry store has hundreds of items which are the same. I ask to speak with my boss and inform him I would like a stock take with me disposing of all the items which are no good, so I have a clean slate. I also tell him not to expect me to be cooking until all food and storage areas are the way they should be, which is clean and organised!
The next thing I do is speak to my kitchen brigade. I tell them that I am to be paid a bonus each quarter if we meet the GP. This, I tell them, I am happy to share with them if we do so.
Once again, I look at all of the menus we are serving and contact suppliers requesting meetings. During these meetings, the reps from each company (who also supply Clarence House) tell me that Pauline (my ex-boss) had called them saying, “If you supply David Yip at Abbey House, you will lose my custom!” They go on to say that as she never pays her bills on time, they are more than happy to be here.
Abbey House is a wonderful place to hold weddings, with its imposing sandstone building, ornate hall and beautiful gardens. I attend my first meeting with my boss, the wedding coordinator and restaurant manager. We discuss the upcoming weddings and I am given the menus, also been told that they have 24 weddings booked that year, with my former hotel, Clarence House, being their biggest competitor.
I am to appear in the local paper. My boss wanting to promote that I am now working there. Having previously appeared in the paper, promoting Clarence House and The Coot Restaurant (my ex-boss’s second business with her brother-in-law), I am used to people recognising me and have had tremendous support from customers over the years.
I am home one morning, sat in our kitchen, when my mum comes downstairs to say she wants to speak with me. She says, “David, I’m going to ask you something and I want you to be honest.” Puzzled, I remain silent. My mum says, “Having your bedroom next to mine, I’ve been hearing the noises and want to know what’s going on? Are you hitting your girlfriend?” I am so upset that my mum thinks I am capable of such a thing, after witnessing her troubled marriage. I simply stand up, remove my shirt and turn so my mum can see the bruises all over my back. “No,” I tell her, “I am not hitting my girlfriend, she hits me.” My mum is shocked and asks why? I tell her, “Because I won’t have sex with her and she gets angry.” Although this is an opportunity for me to tell my mum I am gay, I tell her that most nights I am shattered from work and just want to sleep. My mum is furious and tells me she will speak with her. I ask her not to, saying I will sort it. A few days later, I end the relationship.
The end of my relationship causes some friction at the hotel, with us still working together. My ex-girlfriend does not accept my decision and tells me I can’t walk away from her as she is pregnant! I go into full panic mode, thinking this is the last thing I want and how am I going to tell my family. I am left in turmoil for several days until a female colleague at work tells me she had made the whole thing up to get me to go back out with her, but I am not to tell her how I found out.
My nana always used to say, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” and this was my way of finding that out.
At work, we are holding a tasting menu dinner which is 7 courses and sponsored by Davidoff brandy. All tables are given bottles of brandy and a box of cigars. Invitations are sent out to many of the customers who regularly dine at Clarence House, and Cumbria Life magazine attends. The night is sold out, and after sending out the last desserts, I am asked to walk around the tables and speak to the guests. On entering the dining room in clean chef whites, some guests stand up and start to clap and cheer! I am left overwhelmed. Cumbria Life magazine writes an article about the evening which has a significant effect on future bookings, with the hotel becoming even busier.
The Christmas season arrives and one day I am walking through the bar when my boss asks what I think of the decorations. He doesn’t like my answer. I tell him, “I think they are tacky, not in keeping with the hotel and look cheap.” He tells me the cost and I reply by saying, “You were robbed. Next year I will do them!” He asks if I am being serious and I say yes. I go on to do them each year until I leave.
Whilst my boss is there, I tell him that I have now been working for 4 months and for the past 3 I have hit the GP and we agreed I was to be paid a bonus. He says he can’t remember this and I tell him that luckily I can and the amount is £500 cash. He says I will have it by the end of the day, which I do. I split the bonus with my team.
At our staff Christmas party, I walk into the hall and the staff call out for me to join them. Later on, my boss is at the bar and asks, “What’s with the hair?” (My hair is spiked all over with gel, rather than being flat.) I tell him, “It’s my going out look.” He says, “You’ve got to tell me how you do that?” I ask, “What?” He says, “Walk into a room and get everyone’s attention.” I say I didn’t realise I did. He says, “Will you do me a favour and come shopping with me? I want to change my look.” I look at what he is wearing and he says, “What do you think of this?” I say, “You dress 20 years older than you are and yes, you need to change your look, so I will go shopping with you.”
Being single again, I am out with friends after work when I meet my hairdresser, who is out with her brother. He tells me he is gay and goes on to say that he is planning to go to Blackpool, where there are gay bars and clubs and everyone is friendly. He asks if I would like to go. I tell my mum the next day that I am going to Blackpool overnight with friends the following week. She asks who I’m going with? I lie and say, “Suzanne and a couple of others who I work with.”
I have a great night in Blackpool; no one judges us for being gay and I have never been happier.
Returning home, my mum asks how my night was? I can’t lie anymore. I tell her I didn’t go with friends from work; I went with a male friend. Confused, she asks why I lied? I say, because I’m gay. My mum’s response is, “You’re not gay, you’re greedy! After having all these women chase after you, you now want men. Don’t you know you’re just giving people another reason to attack you?” I tell my mum I just can’t lie anymore and that I’ve known I’m gay since I was 11 years old. My Mum asks, “Then why all the girlfriends?” and I say, “To fit in, because I could never tell you, but now I need to be honest with myself and my family.” My mum gives me a hug and tells me she loves me and this doesn’t change anything. My family is told the news and I speak to them all, with the exception of my dad.
Christmas Day arrives and our house is full of family and friends. My dad arrives and has clearly been drinking. In front of everyone he says, “Look at beautiful daughter Suzanne, she has given me a grandchild and my lovely daughter Linda is also expecting.” He turns to my brother and says, “My number one son has given me two grandchildren.” Pointing at me he says, “And what about you? You are nothing, you never have been and never will be.” I am so upset I get up from my chair and go to my bedroom. A few minutes later, my elder sister comes into my room and says, “David, don’t be upset, come back down?” I say no and she says, “Dad has gone, Martin has thrown him out.” After leaving the room, my brother had told my dad that if he ever spoke to me that way again, he would have him to deal with and to get out. Returning downstairs, my mum tells me not to be upset and I say, “How can I not be, he’s my dad!” She says, “Your dad has never been a dad to you; he is merely responsible for getting me pregnant.” I tell her, “I don’t know what else to do for him to like me. I have a successful career; I look out for my family and friends.” My mum says, “The problem is your dad’s, not yours.”
Abbey House goes from strength to strength and we are busy each lunch and dinner service. We also introduce Afternoon Teas, which are a big hit. The weddings double for the following year and my small team works flat out.
Looking to recruit more chefs, I hold an interview with a young lad who tells me, “I want to be a chef because I love watching TV cookery programmes.” I ask what experience he has and he says, “None, apart from cooking at home.” I tell him the position advertised is for Chef de Partie, someone who can look after and run a section. He replies, “Please give me a chance; I’m a quick learner!” Thinking about how I was given a break as a young lad, I hire him.
I work with him every day, showing how to prepare all items from the menu, teaching him portion control, how to present dishes, what stock rotation is in the fridges, how to prioritise what dishes you cook first and how timing is crucial during busy services. Within 6 months, he is my Sous Chef, in charge of the kitchen on my days off. To this day, nearly 30 years later, on the rare occasions I bump into my old chef brigade, they still address me as “Chef” and never by my name, and that means a lot.
On one night out with my staff, I bump into my former colleagues from Clarence House and The Coot. They tell me Pauline hired a consultant, informing him a chef was returning to the area who would have a significant impact on her business and they would like to get ahead of it. They go on to say it didn’t work and I certainly won that battle. Their comments give me great reassurance after Pauline telling me “I would achieve nothing.”
My boss calls me into a meeting and tells me that due to the business being so busy, they will be adding a large extension to the hotel. A large function suite catering for up to 120 guests with bedrooms above will be built, being connected to the existing building by a glass tunnel for guests and an underground corridor for staff. He talks about the kitchen design, stating there will be regeneration ovens fitted. (Regeneration ovens are used for large-scale banqueting so food can be pre-prepared in advance then reheated.) I tell him I don’t want them and will not have any part of them. He says for the amount of guests we will be catering to, you will need them. Again, I refuse, saying I won’t put my name to that type of food. In the end, he asks what equipment I want and I go on to decide the kitchen layout.
Whilst at work, my fish rep arrives. She is slim, tall, brunette and very good looking. She also likes to flirt a lot, much to my chefs’ amusement, with them always commenting after she leaves. On this occasion, after her departure, I ask my chefs to meet me downstairs in the dry stores. Once the whole team is there I say, “I have something to tell you all.” One of my chefs says, “You’re sleeping with the fish rep!” The others all laugh. I say, “Not quite, and the reason for that is I’m gay.” But they say, “You always comment on how good looking she is.” I tell them, “Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a good-looking woman, and the reason I am telling you is because we spend a lot of time together outside of work, playing squash or in bars, and people will talk.” They respond by saying they couldn’t care less and that it doesn’t change a thing.
I decide to apply for a television show. One day during lunchtime service, the kitchen phone rings and the person on the other end says, “Is this David Yip? I’m Cara from the Weakest Link production team.” I laugh and say, “Whatever!” Cara goes on to say it isn’t a wind-up and is now a good time for her to ask some questions to see if I will progress to the next round? At the end of the call, she says I have passed and they will be in touch. I go on to appear on the show and get down to the last 3 contestants before being voted off. It was a great experience I will never forget.
I continue to socialise with my team after work and am out one night when I am approached by a young man. He simply looks at me and says, “Do you want to get out of here?” I leave with him, returning to my home. He is my first gay encounter in Barrow and I think it’s time for me to move out of my home. I am the last child to leave, as my younger sister had already moved out, having her own relationship.
My mum helps me find a flat and we move into that. Unfortunately, the flat is a first-floor flat and our neighbour below complains constantly about our music, so we move. The new flat is above a car garage and is considerably bigger with 2 large bedrooms, bathroom, large living room and kitchen diner. I also have no neighbours, with the business below closing at 5pm each day.
My new relationship brings new friends who I see each week. The new flat becomes a party pad and I meet Katie and Lee, amongst others. We become great friends, with them being very protective of me. I have one rule in the flat, which is if my friends bring people along, they are responsible for them, ensuring they behave. On one occasion, Lee’s brother comes along and during the night he asks Lee, “Why do you hang around with these gay people?” Lee responds by saying, “If you got to know them you wouldn’t say that, and I think you should leave.” On the occasions Lee goes night fishing, I spend a lot of time with Katie, staying awake until the early hours of the morning just sat chatting, with Lee telling me he knows he can trust me. The flat starts to get a reputation, with many people trying to gain entry. The police are called on numerous occasions with reports of people being unconscious and the occupants being up to no good. When walking around inside, they tell me, “We are not stupid, we know you are enjoying yourselves, just make sure you keep it contained.” On one occasion, I am dancing on my dining room table with a friend and look out of the window below to see two policemen leaning against a lamppost. They wave up to us and move on.
My relationship lasts for 12 months and isn’t a good one. Despite always telling myself that I wouldn’t tolerate the things I had witnessed with others, I do. I am cheated on multiple occasions until one day I have enough and throw him out.
I invite a gay friend around for drinks one evening. On opening the door, I see he is being attacked by two men. I try to get him inside and I’m punched to the floor. I get up and grab a chair, using its back to try and get them out, my friend being on the floor. The chair is quickly taken off me and smashed over my shoulder. I hit the floor and the two men start to kick me before turning and fleeing. The police are called and they ask for my statement, saying to me, “It’s not like the movies is it? Being hit with a chair, they don’t smash!” A visit to the hospital confirms my collarbone has been chipped. My friend tells the police who the people are and they are arrested. A few days later, there is a knock at my door. On opening it, I discover it is one of the men who assaulted us. He asks, “Is David in?” I tell him, “You were that much off your head you don’t even recognise me?” He says, “I’m sorry, I’d taken too many pills, but if you prosecute me I will lose my job. How much do you want? I will pay you right now.” I close the door in his face and take him to court.
With the new extension now built, work is so busy and my hardworking team are amazing. Some days we host two weddings a day with two night do’s and a restaurant to serve. We do this by informing the weddings what time we can serve their chosen menus. My team then runs through the underground corridor from one kitchen to the other, serving each wedding at separate times.
My boss again calls me into a meeting; I assume it’s about the clothes shopping trip. He asks me to sit, then says, “So I’m told you’re gay now?” I reply, “I’ve always been gay, but now I’ve come out.” He asks, “And why have you not told me?” I say, “I didn’t realise I had to? You don’t discuss your private life with me?” He then says, “You do know this hotel is owned by Irish Catholics? I dine with a priest each week, as you know.” I say, “I don’t think my sexuality has anything to do with my job and it certainly hasn’t impacted the business.” He tells me he will have to tell the owners and we will speak again. A few days later he tells me, “I have told the family and they couldn’t care less.” “As it should be,” I say, and consider the matter closed.
Unfortunately, things between my boss and I change. He calls me into his office in November and tells me to change butchers as there is a larger firm he wants me to use. I ignore his request. In January, I am called into a meeting and asked why I didn’t change suppliers? I say, “Because any idiot knows you don’t change suppliers in November; you do it in January, as suppliers are loyal to the clients they’ve had all year.” “Did you just call me an idiot?” he asks, and I say, “No, I said any idiot knows you don’t change suppliers then.” He hands me a fax and in it the proposed new supplier he wants me to use has accused me of being on the take, taking backhanders with my current supplier. I laugh and say, “I wish.” Going back to the kitchens, I compose my own letter for the new supplier and write:
Thank you for submitting your work of fiction regarding chefs taking backhanders in hotels. Unfortunately, the panel found this to be too far-fetched for readers to believe, but we hope this won’t discourage you, as you clearly have a wild imagination. Maybe next time write something a bit more believable!!
I send the fax and return to work. The following day, my boss comes into the kitchen with my fax in his hand and tells me the rep had been on the phone fuming about it, telling my boss everyone had read it and he was made out to be a laughing stock. I tell my boss what he wrote was slander and he shouldn’t have written it. I am told to have no communication with him, which suits me fine.
During busy services, my boss starts to come into the kitchen asking how long tables will be. When I say they’ll be ready when they are ready, he pretends to open his flies, saying, “If I get this out, will it help?” On other occasions, he pretends to drop to his knees or bends over counters. This is in front of all my staff. This behaviour continues for some time and I start to look for other work.
I have worked at Abbey House for nearly 5 years. The restaurant bookings are as busy as ever. We host over 60 weddings a year with endless celebrations also being catered for. I never miss my target GP; in most months I exceed it.
My boss asks to speak with me and we meet in his office. He tells me, “I think it’s time we part company. This is what we are prepared to give you.” I smile and say, “So this is what I want, and I leave today.” He says, “I don’t have your replacement yet.” I say, “That is what I want, and if I don’t go today, everything you have been doing to me will be told in a tribunal, because what you don’t know is that every time you pretended to undo your flies etc., I had my staff witness it all on paper.” His face drops and I stand up and leave, asking him to let me know as soon as possible. The kitchen phone rings 30 minutes later and my boss simply says, “OK, you have your deal.” I collect my knives, say goodbye to my team and leave.
The following week, I go to meet my boss to collect my cheque and he asks, “What will you do now?” I tell him, “If I’m being honest with you, I only stayed here for the money and my team, so now I start back at my old place, The Coot, tomorrow.” Once again, he is left shocked.
Being back at my old place is great; the owners have changed and once again I am left alone to organise the kitchen and menus as I see fit. The first thing I ask is for an article to be in the local paper informing people of my move. Unfortunately, some people are left disappointed that I am no longer at Abbey House, but Abbey House’s loss is The Coot’s gain, with it also being a wedding venue. Within two weeks, Abbey House displays a banner over its front garden walls advertising “Two courses for £15,” their customers leaving, following me to The Coot. Although I didn’t know it at the time, this will be my last position as Head Chef.
I take a holiday with my ex-partner and visit Gran Canaria, going to Playa del Ingles. On our first night out, we discover the Yumbo Centre, which is full of gay bars, clubs and restaurants. It is time for me to finally be myself and enjoy being me. I return home and tell my family I am moving abroad, selling my car and all my belongings.
And then it starts….. DOUBT.
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