Noma Scandal: The Silent Cry in the Kitchen

The first week of February 2026 began with a hashtag reverberating through the social media labyrinth: #NomaAbuse. Noma, the pride of Copenhagen, the pinnacle of the gastronomy world, repeatedly crowned the best restaurant globally, and holder of three Michelin stars. This wasn't a story of an ordinary restaurant, but one that appeared on the screens of anyone with even the slightest trace of gastronomy in their algorithm. While it has now transformed into an R&D and innovation lab, behind this transformation lay a cauldron simmering in silence for years.

The Noma Nightmare: Invisible Borders in the Kitchen

In truth, the 'troubles' at Noma had been whispered backstage since 2015. Former employees occasionally voiced, in faint tones, the psychological and physical abuse they endured. However, on February 6, 2026, Jason Ignosia, Noma's former fermentation lab manager, launched a cry on Instagram with the hashtag #NomaAbuse. Under this tag, the heartbreaking confessions of former interns and employees converged. The issue quickly migrated to a website, nomaabuse.com, garnering nearly 10 million views. Hundreds described the bullying and violence they faced in vivid detail.

Ignosia's movement brought to light the dark realities behind Noma's Michelin-starred façade.

Subsequently, Noma's celebrated chef resigned. While he had apologized for his behavior in a 2015 interview, this time he was forced to make a more extensive statement: "I worked very hard and put in a lot of effort to elevate the restaurant. I apologize to everyone for the times I succumbed to my own anger during this process." However, this apology paled significantly in comparison to the gravity of the accusations. Forcing an employee to snort cocaine in the restroom, harassment, dismissing all employees with unspeakable insults, physical violence... The accounts far exceeded a chef's apology. Shocking incidents even came to light, such as an employee fleeing to the restroom, fearing what would happen for a missed order, and never returning to the restaurant.

Is Noma an Exception, or a Widespread Issue?

So, is this just Noma's story, or a chronic problem widespread across the industry? For those within Turkey's gastronomy academy, the answer is clear: Noma is not a large-scale exception. Kitchen violence, strict hierarchy, and a culture of psychological pressure are bitter realities, replicated in the same patterns for decades. Testimonies from industry workers and culinary instructors reveal that narratives of knife-throwing, insults, constant shouting, and even physical abuse in professional kitchens repeat similarly, regardless of geography.

"They Crushed Me, So I Crush Others": The Cycle of Violence

In Turkey, in an environment where phrases like "get used to it, we'll put you through hell, we'll make you cry" are still casually thrown at students forced to cut short their internships, the vivid accounts of a woman who worked in kitchens 12-13 years ago remarkably align with the experiences of today's intern. So why is this? Is it impossible to create delicious food in a kitchen without shouting, yelling, or violence?

At the heart of the matter in Turkish kitchens lies the "dominance of the self-taught". This generation, trained for years through master-apprentice relationships, having been crushed themselves, now crushes others. The mentality of "they crushed me, so I crush others" is the most common defense mechanism for transmitting violence from generation to generation. Noma's chef offered a similar defense: "they did it to me, so I did it."

Moreover, this self-taught cohort is now being replaced by another: a new generation, educated through short-term private academy programs, entering kitchens with training but inheriting the same methods. The conflict between employees bringing scientific knowledge to the kitchen and the traditional structure that says "I haven't seen this with my own eyes, it won't work" often results in the educated employee being crushed. Meaningless tasks given purely for torment, and pressures to prove oneself are daily manifestations of this conflict.

Media and the Normalization of Kitchen Violence

The normalization of this culture in the media is another topic for discussion. Popular reality shows like MasterChef present the chefs' attitudes towards contestants as mainstream entertainment. Viewers, in turn, normalize kitchen violence by saying, "that's just the nature of this industry." And these are contestants before cameras; what happens to actual employees where there are no cameras is a whole different question mark. These programs have transformed chefdom into a status symbol – 10-15 years ago, someone who said they would study gastronomy was asked, "are you going to be a chef-dishwasher?" Today, the chef is now an epauletted, thermometer-carrying, tattooed hero figure. But they have also turned kitchen violence into a spectacle.

Hegemonic Masculinity and Women in the Kitchen

The issue of gender is perhaps one of the most visible scenes in the kitchen. In December 2024, a session titled "women chefs" was held at the Culinary Forum in Antalya. There was no session on male chefs; because being a chef is perceived as being male. This situation, instead of encouraging women, reproduces discrimination by making it constantly visible. A man won't crack an egg in his home kitchen but will work in an important restaurant kitchen – to "bring home the bacon." A woman cooking at home is a role, a man cooking in a restaurant is for money. The name in literature: hegemonic masculinity.

Female chefs in the kitchen often have to develop a tough demeanor for this reason. Because it's impossible to gain acceptance otherwise; the risk of being crushed continues unless one responds with the same toughness. This is a very serious pressure. The most tragic aspect is when some "important" female chefs, under the guise of social responsibility projects, emphasize women's employment, only for it to come to light that they don't employ any women, including interns, in their own kitchens. If this is done by women to women, imagine what men would do.

Is Military Order a Necessity?

So, is this military order in the industry truly necessary? Is the "brigade de cuisine" hierarchy, starting with the executive chef and ending with the commis assistant, essential for getting things done on time? Discipline and hygiene are indispensable in the kitchen; this is beyond debate. But the necessity of discipline doesn't mean that shouting and yelling are also necessary. These two can be separated; the fact that they are not is a structural choice.

If the sector is so problematic, why aren't people looking for other jobs? The answer lies in the blacklist issue. Anyone who tries to talk about their experiences while working in an influential establishment will find it difficult to get another job in the industry. The threat of "we won't let you work anywhere again" is often implicit but constantly at play. As Viktor Frankl put it, you can take everything from a person; but you cannot take their freedom to choose their attitude towards the actions done to them. It's understandable to be afraid and hesitant; but keeping the matter in silence is the biggest guarantor of the cycle continuing.

Are Calm Kitchens Possible?

So, is there no way out? Is there an example of someone breaking away from this hierarchical system and opening their own calm restaurant? There isn't a clear name for this question. While kitchen violence is discussed at length, a restaurant that positions itself with the rhetoric, "our kitchen isn't like that, we work calmly, everyone knows their job," is almost invisible. Yet, this could be a strong marketing proposition, both ethically and commercially. At a time when this issue is so widely discussed globally, now is the time for establishments with calm but efficient chefs in their kitchens to make this visible.

Because there is an alternative. In boutique kitchens run by small teams, structures where work is shared rather than hierarchy are already functioning. There are workplaces where one can get the answer, "thank you, if everything is fine in the kitchen, why are you interfering?" without hearing the question, "are you the chef?" just to ask for a plate. Employees in these structures close the kitchen happily at the end of the day. And the service runs with the same efficiency and quality.

That's the point: there's no need to necessarily shout, yell, or resort to violence in the kitchen. When everyone knows their job and works with sufficient discipline and hygiene, the kitchen can be a calm but efficient place to work. It didn't happen at Noma. It doesn't happen in most professional kitchens in Turkey. But it can. As long as the narrative of "this is how it has to be" is questioned.