The galley is our office, our safe haven, our sacred space. And thankfully, they all come with doors — to seal off a fire, if for no other reason. My question to my fellow chefs is this: do you keep yours open or closed?
I’ve worked in galleys with permanently closed doors (my personal preference), and in galleys with perpetually open ones (my actual idea of hell). Is there anything worse than a half-formed comment thrown in your direction by every crew member that wanders past? It interrupts my precious flow. I wasn’t tuned in to their frequency, so I definitely didn’t catch every word. By the time I’ve gathered my thoughts enough to formulate a response, they’ve disappeared.
Not to mention, an open door means my podcast of choice is broadcast to all and sundry, and everyone has an opinion on my choice of material. I used to love listening to BBC Radio 4’s Woman’s Hour every day at 11am, and never have I copped so much flack from the crew. So, I happen to love topical British news from a feminist angle — arrest me!
But we’re all built differently, right? I love nothing more than zoning out from everything else and tuning in to my work. That’s one of the things I love most about being a chef. I work best in pairings where we’re both wired that way — we can chat until the cows come home during a deep clean, but when we’re in the deep work zone, we’re all in. That said, I know chefs who hate the isolation of a solo galley and thrive on visitors; whatever your personal preference, there are certain situations that warrant an open door, and others that demand it be firmly closed.
Pizza Night
Guests are off. Spirits are high. It’s Friday afternoon, and everyone’s in the mood for pizza and beer. If you’re lucky enough to have a pizza oven — take it to the dock! But if you’re in the galley, open that door and bring everyone in to make their own. A word of warning: don’t let them slide their masterpiece into the oven themselves. I did that once. It resulted in one very disappointed deckhand who inadvertently made himself a calzone, emerging from the oven looking like a pitiful, folded-up quarter of a pizza. This silly chef had no spare dough — so another word to the wise — ball up some spares.
Never Work with Children or Animals
Guests love a galley tour. Is it the Below Deck effect? They love to see behind the curtain, and we aim to please. A quick mid-trip spruce, and we’re ready to welcome them. Oh, your children want to make pancakes with the chef? Great! Let me just put lunch prep on hold for a quick group cooking class (read: not quick in the slightest). You want to bring your feisty, aggressive Pomeranians? I don’t remember dogs featuring in my Level 2 Food Hygiene, but sure, I’ll just try not to trip over them as they bite my ankles.
When You Need an Extra Pair of Hands
When you’re under the pump and in desperate need of support (even for some help washing up), open the door. Christmas springs to mind. You’re making what feels like a thousand different mains, sides, and desserts to suit everyone’s wildly different ideas of what constitutes a Christmas dinner. Or you’re making eggs Benedict en masse — you want hot muffins, perfectly soft poached eggs, and a held together hollandaise sauce that absolutely won’t split. Drag anyone in who hollers something at you on their way past.
Crew Home Comforts
If your crew are feeling homesick and missing their favorite meal or snack, give them an apron and let them join you. This is how I’ve found my favorite recipes for things like rusks, chocolate fudge cake, and melktert. If they’re bringing their grandma’s famous recipe with them, they’re welcome here.
Rough Seas
Keep. That. Door. Closed. No one needs to see you green around the gills, questioning every life decision that led you to this point. No one needs to see you steel yourself to do the simplest task. No one needs to see you slumped over the galley counter, fighting for your life against the crushing fatigue brought on by the seasickness tablets. No one needs to notice the suspiciously empty galley while you take five for a tactical chunder and a lie down in your cabin. No one needs to see you slide a frozen pre-prepped lasagna in the oven. Keep the illusion of control alive, under all costs.
Halloween
Pumpkin carving. Again, absent from the Food Hygiene course but poses an actual risk to life. It’s all fun and games until the knife slips, and you thank your lucky stars the boat was in port and you can get the crew member to an actual hospital. I let it happen once. Never again.
When Love Is in the Air
Is your would-be beau an engineer? Gosh darn it, the dishwasher is on the fritz again. A deckhand? I simply cannot get my head around these SOPs. Can you show me how you like it? A stew? Oops, I accidentally made an extra chocolate fondant! Look, it’s pretty common to fall in love in the workplace, and sometimes the galley can be the perfect place for love to blossom.
Ultimately, the galley door is more than just a fire safety requirement. It’s the chef’s tool you didn’t know you needed. Knowing when to open it, and when to close it, might be one of the most underrated skills a chef can master!