A blog by Stuart Ralston -“New York, New York”

From a very young age, I knew two things about myself; I was going to become a chef – and, like most adolescents, I was fascinated with the world outside my home country of Scotland.

Working abroad was an idea that had occasionally crossed my mind, but I had always swept it aside as unrealistic dream. I had never known anyone who worked abroad. None of my family, friends, co-workers, or anyone I knew in my young life had left the UK to pursue a career in cooking.

My path was clearly laid to be the best chef I could aspire to be in my home country, with all the familiar comforts of home around me. After high school, I was lucky enough to work for Chef Ian Mcnaught at the Roman Camp in Scotland for four years. He nurtured my already growing interest in international restaurants, sharing with me cookery books from all over the world – from the French Laundry to Charlie Trotters, from TRU by Rick Tramanto to Marcus Samuelsson of Aquavit in New York City.

At age 19, I worked with a chef named David Williams. David would frequently reminisce tales of working as a young man in Paris under Joel Robuchon; the hell he went through speaking no French and trying to get by with little money, no family and friends, all while being screamed at by an insane yet legendary 3-Michelin-Starred chef in a foreign tongue. It sounded like heaven.

My mind was blown. What had been a fleeting, impractical dream became a desperate desire. Somehow, hearing firsthand that leaving home to pursue cooking wasn’t only possible, but realistic, made the whole idea tangible to me. The outside world wasn’t so elusive after all. I got busy. Since it had been a childhood dream of mine to live in New York City, I thought it was as good a place to start as any.

Close Message - I might contribute in the future

I love what you do, let me contribute right now

sent emails to every two and three Michelin Starred kitchen in existence within Manhattan. Dozens of emails turned into three offers for stages, which turned into a week-long stage at Aquavit under Marcus Samuelson. From what had been nothing but a glossy cookery book in my hands in a tiny village in Scotland, became me standing in the Aquavit kitchen working alongside the man himself. I won’t lie; New York City was pretty intimidating.

I flew there by myself, booked my own hotel and didn’t plan anything other than my Aquavit stage. I had no idea how to use the subway, get food for myself or even how to confidently order a coffee. The experience was terrifying, and a lot to take in at once. Somehow, I survived the week, and flew back home. The flight home was a mental struggle. On one hand, I was certain that I couldn’t return to New York; it was too much for someone like me to handle, expensive, foreign, threatening, and the prospect of being so far away from everything I knew seemed too much.

But, what was it I was really afraid of? And what was my alternative? By the time I picked up my luggage at baggage claim, I knew that Scotland had taught me all it could and that I had to follow my ambitions by returning to New York City and finishing what I had started. When home, I wrote a letter to Gordon Ramsay himself asking for a job, and my stage at The Connaught in London, I received an opportunity to be part of the opening team for Gordon Ramsay at the London NYC. I never asked any of the usual silly job-questions like “When do I start?” or “How much does it pay?”

None of it seemed to matter – I was going to live in New York City and work for Gordon Ramsay. They could have offered to pay me in monkey nut shells and I would have agreed just as eagerly. This was it.

Small Contribution. Big Impact.

The Staff Canteen has always been more than a website—it’s a community, built by and for hospitality. We share the wins, the challenges, the graft, and the inspiration that keeps kitchens alive.

We believe in staying open to everyone, but creating this content takes real resources. If you’ve ever found value here—whether it’s a recipe, an interview, or a laugh when you needed it most—consider giving just £3 to keep it going.

A little from you keeps this space free for all. Let’s keep lifting the industry, together.