Chef
Soho Theatre
18th June 2015

★★★★☆

We see it, we taste it, we smell it, we touch it, we even hear it as we bite in. With food stimulating all of the senses, it's only logical that just one mouthful can instantly evoke an old memory. A series of meals can even tell an entire life story. In Sabrina Mahfouz's one-woman show Chef, different dishes are used to signpost the tale of how a passionate young foodie (Jade Anouka) went from being head of her own professional kitchen to running a prison cookhouse with somewhat more limited resources at her disposal. It's a sad tumble from grace, told elegantly.

First and foremost, this is a play about identity. We never learn the protagonist's first name - she delights in answering to her title and explains everything whilst donning chef's whites. She's not wearing a prison uniform and whilst she does let some strong swear words slip, she doesn't really seem like an inmate. I mean, it's not like chefs swear, right? There's a strange poignancy in the lyrical dialogue - it doesn't fit the situation - and a clear sense that working with food is what defines her. As she begins by talking of the wonders of a simple peach, Chef is filled with an almost childlike enthusiasm, underlining that food is a genuine passion. She's not peeling spuds to earn some extra cash or jail privileges, she's worked her way to the top of the prison pecking order purely because she adores cooking.

Anouka is an energetic performer, darting around the set as the poetic words slip off her tongue so easily. Director Kirsty Patrick Ward makes Chef very likeable, helping to turn her into a sort of everywoman. If it wasn't for sound designer Edward Lewis's metal clinking between scenes, we might almost believe she was just a regular cook - someone you could have a chat with without first needing a visiting order. Fran Reidy's set and costume design certainly tries to imply a more normal environment - we could be watching any chef in a small scale kitchen.

There's something inherently relatable about Chef's character. We touch on the tragedy which has invaded her life and whilst the script doesn't quite go far enough, we're left with an understanding that it's circumstance more than anything which has pushed her to where she is now. The more we sympathise, the harder the questions of morality become to answer. Were her actions justified? What would we have done if in the same position?

As warm and bubbly as Chef is, this is a bleak tale. She's so excited about getting out and rebuilding her culinary career, but a release seems unlikely. There's nothing more pitiful than false hope. We're also left to reflect on how society has let down this woman and the friends from inside she talks about - could any of their downfalls have been prevented? What about their rehabilitation, could we have handled that better?

At only 50 minutes, we perhaps don't have as much time as we would like to delve into the protagonist's past. The production is nonetheless engaging, thought-provoking and beautifully written. Chef gives us plenty to tuck into, but perhaps we're just greedy. Please ma'am, can we have some more?

Chef ran from 15th June to 4th July 2015 at the Soho Theatre.

Nearest tube station: Tottenham Court Road (Northern, Central)