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I have never envied the chef/owners of high-flying restaurants. Who could possibly thrive under the immense pressure of serving perfect food perfectly, night after night? And then be expected to break even, let alone turn a profit?

No wonder so many high-end restaurant kitchens are laboratories of abusive behavior. The merciless Gordon Ramsay is hardly an outlier.

But Rene Redzepi, the celebrated chef who introduced conceptual Nordic food to the world when he opened Noma in Copenhagen more than two decades ago, has allegedly taken the stereotype to new, sadistic heights.

A New York Times investigation, sparked by Instagram posts from a former Noma employee, landed with a crash just days before the restaurant’s sold-out 16-week, $1,500-per-person Los Angeles pop-up opened Wednesday.

Between 2009 and 2017, the New York Times reported, Redzepi “hit, jabbed and shoved workers for minor errors and punched them when enraged by an infraction. He threatened them with blacklisting, deportation and public shaming.”

When there were customers in the dining room who could see into the open kitchen, said the Times, “he would crouch under the counters in the open kitchen and jab them in the legs with his fingers or a nearby utensil, like a barbecue fork.”

He should have been sued, or investigated. Not celebrated.

I’ve been seeing lots of online debate about which is more offensive: patronizing a chef accused of brutalizing his employees or dropping that kind of money on a single fancy dinner.

I don’t hold it against anyone spending their own money on an uber-fancy meal, although I am slightly repulsed by the fetishization of the food at places like Noma or the French Laundry, where I’ve eaten a couple of times. Nor would I expect anyone to cancel a reservation because of a chef’s past wrongdoings — and Redzepi insists that after years of therapy, his behavior is a thing of the past.

But his history leaves a bad taste for some. “There’s something about supporting a chef who multiple former employees claimed punched a colleague in the ribs (and berated him until he admitted that he liked giving DJs oral sex), among other abhorrent behaviors, that makes me lose my appetite,” wrote Times restaurant critic Jenn Harris, in an essay explaining why the Noma pop-up is a hard pass for her.

Jason Ignacio White, Noma’s former head of fermentation, who began posting past Noma employees’ distressing accusations of abuse by Redzepi on Instagram last month, led a protest Wednesday at the pop-up site, the Paramour Estate in Silver Lake. He was joined by the labor rights group One Fair Wage.

White has said that Redzepi owes reparations to the young professionals who worked incredibly long hours for free, and traded their dignity and mental health for the opportunity to have Noma on their resumes.

“Noma broke me,” read White’s sign. “You bought a ticket to a crime scene,” read another.

American Express, and others, pulled sponsorships for the pop-up a day before its opening.

While the first dinner went on as scheduled, the deluge of bad press led Redzepi to unexpectedly announce he would “step away” from Noma, as well as from MAD, the nonprofit he founded that’s focused on the future of food. “I cannot change who I was then,” he said in an apology posted online. “But I take responsibility for it and will keep doing the work to be better.”

Redzepi, who built his business on the backs of unpaid interns, or stagiaires, from all over the world, closed Noma’s physical doors a few years ago. It turned out that without all the free labor, his business model was unsustainable. Noma now operates as a food lab, and travels the world as a pop-up.

How does a man who pioneered an entirely new cuisine, whose restaurants have been named best in the world a half-dozen times, whose contributions to Danish culture and tourism led the queen to knight him, become so toxic?

For hints, I watched the 2008 Danish documentary, “Noma at Boiling Point,” made just as Redzepi was about to become world famous. In it, he berates his staff, calls them stupid, and rudely pushes past kitchen workers, knocking things out of their hands. Since he knew the camera was rolling, you really have to wonder what on Earth must he have been like when the cameras were off?

Some of his unpaid workers were painfully young — one 17-year-old boy, who had committed to spending four years at Noma, decides to leave after being denied a day off to attend his parents’ 25th wedding anniversary party.

“Sometimes he’s sick of being so angry,” Redzepi’s then-girlfriend, now wife, Nadine Levy, says in the film. “He doesn’t manage to think before he explodes. Because he wants it to work so badly.”

Redzepi‘s passion and creativity are beyond question.

“When you eat this dish,” he tells staff working on a dessert of blueberries with pine ice cream and wood sorrel, “it should taste like you’re going through a pine forest.”

In another scene, he is not just enraged but on the verge of tears after a customer complains that his lamb was tough.

Redzepi berates the chef who incorrectly sliced the meat — with the grain, not against it — and tells him to “remember this day as one of the worst days in Noma’s history.”

The tragedy? He really meant it.

Bluesky: @rabcarianThreads: @rabcarian

Celebrity chef René Redzepi resigns from Noma amid past abuse allegations March 12, 2026

Celebrity chef René Redzepi resigns from Noma amid past abuse allegations

Voices Arellano: Noma’s $1,500 meal is the antithesis of L.A. and the way we eat March 13, 2026

Arellano: Noma’s $1,500 meal is the antithesis of L.A. and the way we eat

Voices Commentary: Noma L.A. controversy is a turning point. Why this critic won’t be dining there March 10, 2026

Commentary: Noma L.A. controversy is a turning point. Why this critic won’t be dining there

L.A. Times Insights delivers AI-generated analysis on Voices content to offer all points of view. Insights does not appear on any news articles.

The following AI-generated content is powered by Perplexity. The Los Angeles Times editorial staff does not create or edit the content.

Ideas expressed in the piece

René Redzepi’s documented history of abuse—including hitting, jabbing, shoving, and threatening workers between 2009 and 2017—represents a pattern of violent behavior that should have triggered legal action rather than continued celebration[1]. The allegations reveal a disturbing level of cruelty, such as deliberately jabbing workers in the legs when customers could observe the open kitchen[1].

René Redzepi’s documented history of abuse—including hitting, jabbing, shoving, and threatening workers between 2009 and 2017—represents a pattern of violent behavior that should have triggered legal action rather than continued celebration[1]. The allegations reveal a disturbing level of cruelty, such as deliberately jabbing workers in the legs when customers could observe the open kitchen[1].

The abuse was not an isolated incident but reflected Redzepi’s systematic approach to leadership, as evidenced in a 2008 documentary where he berated staff, called them stupid, and physically moved through the kitchen aggressively despite knowing cameras were recording[1]. This raises questions about what his conduct resembled when cameras were absent.

The abuse was not an isolated incident but reflected Redzepi’s systematic approach to leadership, as evidenced in a 2008 documentary where he berated staff, called them stupid, and physically moved through the kitchen aggressively despite knowing cameras were recording[1]. This raises questions about what his conduct resembled when cameras were absent.

Redzepi’s business model fundamentally depended on exploiting unpaid interns, or stagiaires, from around the world who sacrificed their dignity and mental health for the prestige of working at Noma[1]. When the restaurant closed its physical doors, it became clear that the business was unsustainable without this free labor[1].

Redzepi’s business model fundamentally depended on exploiting unpaid interns, or stagiaires, from around the world who sacrificed their dignity and mental health for the prestige of working at Noma[1]. When the restaurant closed its physical doors, it became clear that the business was unsustainable without this free labor[1].

His stepping away from Noma and the nonprofit MAD represents a necessary reckoning, but the question of accountability and reparations for former employees remains unresolved[1]. Young workers—some as young as 17—endured years of unpaid labor and psychological harm in pursuit of professional credibility[1].

His stepping away from Noma and the nonprofit MAD represents a necessary reckoning, but the question of accountability and reparations for former employees remains unresolved[1]. Young workers—some as young as 17—endured years of unpaid labor and psychological harm in pursuit of professional credibility[1].

The broader issue extends beyond one chef; high-end restaurant kitchens operate as laboratories of abusive behavior, with Redzepi exemplifying an extreme version of a widespread industry problem that normalizes mistreatment under the guise of perfectionism and passion[1].

The broader issue extends beyond one chef; high-end restaurant kitchens operate as laboratories of abusive behavior, with Redzepi exemplifying an extreme version of a widespread industry problem that normalizes mistreatment under the guise of perfectionism and passion[1].

Different views on the topic

Some guests and industry professionals attending the pop-up argue that the current Noma team should not be held accountable for Redzepi’s past conduct and that there is value in separating the figurehead from the broader organization[1]. As one hospitality industry worker explained, everyone in the restaurant industry engages in a “mental math” about ethical concerns while recognizing that “there’s more to a restaurant or business than just the figurehead up top[1].”

Some guests and industry professionals attending the pop-up argue that the current Noma team should not be held accountable for Redzepi’s past conduct and that there is value in separating the figurehead from the broader organization[1]. As one hospitality industry worker explained, everyone in the restaurant industry engages in a “mental math” about ethical concerns while recognizing that “there’s more to a restaurant or business than just the figurehead up top[1].”

Redzepi has acknowledged his past behavior through public apologies and stated that he has undergone years of therapy, asserting that his previous conduct is behind him[1]. His recent actions—stepping away from day-to-day operations, establishing new human resources systems, and paying interns—represent concrete steps toward institutional change[1].

Redzepi has acknowledged his past behavior through public apologies and stated that he has undergone years of therapy, asserting that his previous conduct is behind him[1]. His recent actions—stepping away from day-to-day operations, establishing new human resources systems, and paying interns—represent concrete steps toward institutional change[1].

The current Noma team is described as “the strongest and most inspiring it has ever been,” and some view the pop-up as an opportunity for the existing staff to demonstrate their work and capabilities independent of Redzepi’s direct involvement[1]. Supporters suggest that the team’s future direction matters more than historical grievances[1].

The current Noma team is described as “the strongest and most inspiring it has ever been,” and some view the pop-up as an opportunity for the existing staff to demonstrate their work and capabilities independent of Redzepi’s direct involvement[1]. Supporters suggest that the team’s future direction matters more than historical grievances[1].

Some acknowledge the tension between artistic achievement and personal conduct, noting that Redzepi’s contributions to global cuisine and Danish culture remain meaningful regardless of his personal failings[1]. The argument suggests that dismissing all connection to Noma amounts to conflating the artist entirely with the art[1].

Some acknowledge the tension between artistic achievement and personal conduct, noting that Redzepi’s contributions to global cuisine and Danish culture remain meaningful regardless of his personal failings[1]. The argument suggests that dismissing all connection to Noma amounts to conflating the artist entirely with the art[1].

© Los Angeles Times