A Review of Tart

Tart: Misadventures of an Anonymous Chef is a debut novel from the anonymous ‘Slutty Cheff’, known for her Instagram page where she unashamedly posts about food and sex, closely connecting the two with no details spared. She’s since become a regular British Vogue columnist, writing unapologetically honest opinion pieces and providing snippets into her life.

Cheff’s captions and articles had already established her as a talented writer and her style is one that I certainly got on with. I devoured every bit of her content that I could find. And finally, I got given more in the form of a memoir about Slutty Cheff’s time working in busy London kitchens whilst navigating the world of sex, relationships, anxiety and her role as a female chef in a male dominated industry.

What I love about this book is the passion in which Cheff writes. It’s laced with visceral imagery on every page, making the reader feel as if they are right there with her as she manoeuvres hot goose fat or goes for a cigarette break to escape the stuffy kitchens. This life she leads is not peaceful, but it feels right. Even when she’s not on shift, there’s continual movement - biking to and from work, engaging with carnal desire (whether that be an intense sexual or gustatory experience), or immersing herself within drink and drugs after shifts with colleagues.

Every form of consumption is touched on, and the boundaries between them are often blurred. Each page is refreshingly real, and it is a relief to hear something so human, so messy and so honest, her anonymity allowing room for this instead of restricting her. The book tells the story of Cheff’s decision to quit her corporate role in marketing to pursue her passion of cooking in her twenties. It covers three distinct roles in her time as a chef, each of which having a different effect on her life. She takes us to work with her, creating highly animated sequences of both the intense, long shifts and the rituals that occur both during and after them. Intertwined with this are tales of heartbreak, female friendship, lovers and ultimately, passion.

Her identity remains anonymous, which seems to be quite a seducing factor of the book's appeal. Going into it, you know she’s essentially got nothing to lose, so you’re going to get every shocking detail. She embraces gluttony and indulgence. This isn’t a polite piece of writing that risks holding back because of the vulnerable nature of self-exposure. Instead, the purely anonymous act of storytelling comes with minimal consequences for Cheff other than a cathartic exploration of her journey. The reader will surely be able to resonate with the text in some form.

Cheff is often preoccupied with the interconnected nature of food and sex. With pleasure comes chaos, and she’s got the appetite for both. In fact, she’s got the appetite for experience and sensations. She never shies away from every facet of the human experience, whether that be a breakdown in a toilet or the drunken joy of dancing with friends.

London also plays an important character in the novel. It’s a lively backdrop for her misadventures, and the cheffing world adds another dimension to her love for the place. It seems impossible for Cheff to detach from this way of living even when off shift due to the nature of the city. She also draws on the struggles of often being the only female chef in the workplace, dealing with pervy colleagues and a lack of belonging - yet she perseveres and works her way up the ladder.

Right now, Cheff is focused on her writing and has stepped back from the kitchen. She touches on how all-consuming the kitchens can be, often losing her sense of self in the process. She demonstrates how easy it can be to be swept up in the excitement of a kitchen rush, or the thought of a post-work pint (or several), against the backdrop of a buzzing city, often neglecting friends, family and the needs of the self in the process.

That’s why passion is at the core of this novel. It’s easily consumable, even occasionally addictive, taking on different forms within the book. Despite never having worked as a chef myself, this feeling of losing yourself is definitely universal and really spoke to me as a reader, especially as a woman in my twenties.

It can be easy to forget yourself in the pursuit of passion, yet that doesn’t mean Cheff’s experiences have been regretful. They’ve arguably been necessary.

Words by Amelia Ritchie, she/her