Chef Aviva Friedman

Aviva was one of my first interviews, back when I was still unaware of how many different ways there were to be a private chef. She’s so soft-spoken that if I hadn’t heard the unlikely tale of how she got started cooking professionally, I wouldn’t have believed it.

Aviva: My mother always let us help in the kitchen when we were children. I was never, ever going to do it as a job. Near the end of high school, I was considering my options for summer internships. I really wanted to go to law school, but the market was flooded. I looked for anything, even an unpaid internship in a law office where I’d make coffee. But actual law graduates were doing that at the time.

A couple of days after my high school graduation, I went out to eat with my family in Basil, a restaurant in Crown Heights. It was my first really good restaurant experience, and I did something that, in retrospect, was unlike me: I went over to the manager with a letter for the chef, written on a napkin, asking if I could work in the kitchen, unpaid, for the summer.

I’d  graduated high school three days before. I must have been seventeen? Eighteen? And I’ve  never loved an experience so much in my life. As it happened, the stars were perfectly aligned. The head chef who had opened  the restaurant had just left. Everyone in the kitchen was newly promoted. I started in that kitchen with no knife skills or cooking skills at all, and within a few weeks, I was able to run the newbie station, the cold appetizers station, and the dessert station, which was really fun. I had the best summer.

When I came home from seminary, I looked into various culinary schools. After some research, I applied to the non-kosher Culinary Institute of America. My parents were against it because they were smarter than I was. Who sends their daughter away to the most goyish of goyish colleges? It was an insane idea. But I put my foot down and insisted on going — and I don’t think I’d ever put my foot down on anything before in my life! My parents went along with it.

I boarded at my sister’s house in Monsey. Class officially started at 7 a.m., and that meant that I had to wake up every morning at 4:30 to commute to class. The school was modeled after West Point Military Academy — everything was structured and there were strict rules, especially about the uniform. We had to wear fresh chef whites every day. If there was one stain on your uniform, you were sent out of class. It was difficult to get permission to wear a skirt, and I wasn’t able to eat anything that I cooked. Instead, I ‘d have to ask a classmate to taste my food at the end of class.

All in all, it was a tough and isolating two years. Once it was over, I worked in a few different restaurants, realized I didn’t want to be working in a steakhouse, and became a private chef.

My favorite job now is running tasting dinners, usually for a party or fundraising event or, say, one of the nights of Chanukah. During those, I’ll prepare an average of seven to twelve courses, and I just love the process. It requires a ton of creativity each time, and it’s unusual for me to make the same dish twice.

Hadassa: Are there any rules that you’ve implemented for yourself based on your experiences? Something you now always do or never do because you learned it the hard way? For instance, I’ve learned to never leave the house without wet wipes. I don’t care how old my kids are, where we’re going, or how long we plan to be gone — I know someone will end up sticky, dirty, and covered in chocolate.

Aviva: So my rule would be to never, ever, ever put lamb on the grill and walk away even for a minute, because the whole thing will go up in flames.

Hadassa: I’ll definitely keep that in mind for future reference. One last question that’s really not judgmental… Do your kids eat gourmet meals all the time or do they eat grilled cheese sandwiches?

Aviva: I don’t make multi-course meals at home, but I think my kids eat a lot weirder food than your average kid. Maybe they have a slightly more sophisticated palate because I like to eat, too, and I’m only making one supper.

Hadassa: Really? Only one supper? How do you manage that? Wait, tell me how to do that. You know what? Let’s go off the record for this, but seriously, how—?

Chef Ayala Nir

MYnext interview was with Chef Ayala Nir, who had come highly recommended by families who’d  hired her to cook Pesach for them. And by that, I mean that she cooked all of Pesach for them. Every complicated recipe, every traditional dish, every time-consuming dessert. Not only did I want to meet Ayala, I wanted to become friends with her.

When we began our conversation, I mentioned that I wasn’t sure if interviewing private chefs would be interesting for my readers when I knew it wasn’t within an average family’s budget.

Ayala: I’m going to stop you right there, because 90 percent of my clients aren’t wealthy. They’re in need. Yes, when I make a full Pesach for a family, it’s a family that could afford to go away on a Pesach program. But because of their chumros, that option isn’t available to them. So they hire me to come to their house and cook for them, according to all of their chumros and minhagim.

But actually, so many of my clients have health issues and special dietary needs. Someone might be making a 60th birthday party for their diabetic father, and they want him to be able to eat everything that night. I’ll work hard on a menu that is delicious for everyone and that he can enjoy as well. I also get phone calls from people who are going through treatment, have a specific diet, and are looking for a full meal plan.

Hadassa: Okay, hold on. I have so many more questions about that, but I’d really like to start at the beginning. How did you get into cooking? Did you always love it?

Ayala: I became frum at thirteen, before the rest of my family. By seventh grade, I was completely shomer Shabbos. I realized that if I didn’t cook for myself on Friday afternoon, my mother would do the cooking. She worked late, and that meant  she might cook on Shabbos. So I began to make a full Shabbos, and I fell in love with cooking.

After I got married, I partnered with a brother-in-law in a catering company, and later, I began working as a personal chef. Almost immediately, I was hired by people with special dietary needs. My first client was on the Whole 30 diet. She wanted a special birthday dinner, so I had to design a gourmet menu and dessert that fit within the Whole 30 diet. My next client had to follow a strict paleo diet.

Now, I regularly speak to doctors and nutritionists about my clients’ needs as I prepare their menus. Restrictive diets don’t scare me — I enjoy the challenge and the creativity that goes into recipe development. And that’s another part of what I do. I develop recipes for restaurants, supermarkets, and food companies. I also help develop recipes for cookbooks, and I test and tweak existing recipes when the chef is stuck.

I’ve learned that food plays an important role in people’s emotions. When you’re severely limited in the food you can eat, your mood is off, and everything feels off. I provide variety for my clients so they can eat what they want but in ways that they’re able to digest.

Hadassa: How do people find out about you? I mean, I’ve never seen this type of service advertised, and when I heard about you, it was from people who’ve hired you for Pesach — which is an entirely different side of your business.

Ayala: I never really advertised. Instead, when I moved to Monsey, I started a WhatsApp group called The Recipe Share. It’s kitchen tips and recipes. I post a weekly menu of basic suppers and people message if they want Tuesday’s recipe or Monday’s recipe.

Hadassa: Wait. Why do I not know about this group? Why am I not on this chat?

Ayala: I’ll add you. Anyway, when women messaged me for recipes, they would ask how to customize the meals for their families, and that’s how my name got around.

Hadassa: I hate to ask, but when in the world do you have time for the Pesach cooking that you’re famous for?

Ayala: I completely clear my calendar two weeks before Pesach for my clients. I’m limited in how many clients I can take on, because I literally do it all for them. I review their chumros and minhagim, and if they have any particular family recipes they would like me to replicate.

Pesach is a very traditional Yom Tov, and people want their grandmother’s blintzes and their mother’s kugel. I have clients who don’t eat any spices, I have clients who only eat everything peeled, and I have clients who are Sephardic and are able to eat rice.

In the weeks before Pesach, I do all of their food shopping. On the designated day, I come into their house at 7 a.m. with my well-trained team. By the time we leave the client’s house twelve hours later, all of Pesach is cooked, baked, labeled, and packaged in the fridge or freezer according to the client’s preferences, along with reheating instructions. And, of course, we clean up after ourselves. I could cook all day for one client and be in the supermarket that night shopping for my next.

Hadassa: That sounds like an insane amount of work for you, but an amazing service for your clients.

Ayala: I’m extremely organized. My team knows exactly what they’re doing.

Hadassa: I have to tell you — that sounds like a level beyond organization. I can’t decide if I need to hire you immediately or beg you to teach me the secret of your ways. I think we need to discuss this further, off the record.

Chef Noah Lang

MYfirst clue that Noah was more than an average, run-of-the-mill chef was when we were trying to arrange a time and place to talk. He was finishing one job in Mexico and had to fly out for his next one in Seattle. After we managed to schedule an interview, I asked him where his home base was located, and he said, “Miami International Airport.”

Noah: After graduating high school in Miami, I spent three years in yeshivah, came home, and got my degree in counseling. My dad jokes that his son, the therapist, now makes pizza for people.

While I was working as a therapist, I had a friend who asked me to be a mashgiach on a kosher cruise he was running on Pesach. It was a lot of work, but a good experience. Because of that job, I was hired as a mashgiach by families with nonJewish private chefs. I’m inquisitive by nature, and I was hanging out in the kitchens with these cooks, ten hours a day for eight days, asking questions. I was always interested in cooking, and this is where I learned a lot of techniques.

Now, I do kosher concierge services. I coordinate and facilitate kosher experiences for people across the world. So, just as a concierge ensures that hotel guests have a smooth and enjoyable stay, I do the same for my clients when we travel.

As a teenager, my family would travel to far-out places like Tennessee, and my mom would prepare a week in advance, shop for all the food, and shlep it all. Then, the whole vacation was, “What’s for breakfast? Where are we going? What are we bringing for lunch?” I always joke that Jews have generational trauma from Yetzias Mitzrayim. We left Egypt thinking we’d be on the road for three days. Forty years later, we’re hungry, right? So now, no Jewish family can go to a park for three hours without bringing a ton of food and ordering pizza.

On these family vacations, we’d leave activities early to start dinner, assuming someone remembered to defrost the chicken. It was always so frustrating. So after I started working as a mashgiach, I realized that with my experience, I could help people travel without that frustration. Fifteen years ago, I took a leap and decided to do it full-time.

I’m a chef and I’m in charge of the food, but I also do whatever my clients need. I’ve been asked to babysit, do airport runs, pick up things, and drop them off again. It’s why I call it a concierge service. I love that families can travel without worry. Shabbos is over? Noah has Havdalah. And my clients know, you just ask Noah. I’ve got it covered. I’m happy to let families enjoy each other without stress and headaches.

Hadassa: As someone who’s traveled with family, there are so many logistics that come with fun destinations. Having someone take care of those details would be a total game changer for a hypothetical family with a hypothetically overwhelmed mom overseeing their trip. Also, this hypothetical mom definitely forgot to defrost the chicken for dinner and her hypothetical kids are losing it. On a related note, are there any solid rules you’ve put into place from experience?

Noah: You mean trauma-induced rules? Oh, yes, so many. First of all, like you said, if you wait till the kids are hungry to feed them, it’s too late. Meltdowns are happening, people are hangry. Toameha is huge. I will always, always have toameha prepared. If everyone is starving when the seudah comes, no one is having a good time. So toameha is crucial, and early dinner for kids is crucial for the same reason.

Hadassa: As someone who’s had to deal with the fallout of missing the hungry window, I absolutely agree — that’s an excellent rule.

Since we’ve established that traveling is a large part of what you do, I’m sure a typical day in the office for you is anything but typical.

Noah: One night in Arizona, I got lost for an hour on what should have been a two-minute walk. I was in total darkness with coyotes nearby. It was pretty frightening.

Six months later, I’m on a trip with another family in Colorado. I tell them about the coyotes and they’re like, “Wow, that’s really scary.” And then, the next night, someone left the garage open, and a couple of bear cubs wandered in. Mama Bear went looking for her cubs, pushed the door open and came into the house. I saw her, raised my arms up high, and scared her off.

I like to joke that if you don’t have a chef willing to fight a bear for you, find another one. And I’m only half joking. Because if I’m hired, then taking care of everything is my job.

Hadassa: I don’t imagine bear fighting comes up in any contract, not even in the fine print. Though if you were looking for a tagline to advertise your services, you can definitely incorporate that. “Willing To Risk Life and Limb. Will Fight a Bear for You!”

Chef Batya Kahan

When I asked my friends to suggest chefs to interview, they all brought up Batya Kahan of Batya’s Kitchen. Batya is known for her delicious homemade food, which she delivers in 9X13 tins anywhere, anytime. She was the only chef I met in person instead of on Zoom, and when we finished our interview, she offered to send me home with some baked goods, because she is truly a generous soul. I declined her offer because I myself am a polite soul and not a crazy person who takes kind people up on their generous offers. As I walked out (empty-handed and sad about it), I left in awe of a chef who views her opportunities to take care of Hashem’s children as a privilege.

Batya: When my parents got divorced, my mother was in Israel and my father lived in Brooklyn with all the kids. I was sixteen and basically running the house, raising the kids, and making a full Yom Tov and Shabbos. I loved hosting and having my friends for meals. We had a real open house.

Later, I made my friends’ bridal showers and their sheva brachos. But after my fourth kid was born, my husband suggested that I start cooking as our second income. It was a natural idea, because I enjoyed it so much, and friends and family had already hired me to cook for them. In 2008, I got a hashgachah and began to work out of my house. Fourteen years later, I moved the business into a commissary.

It’s much easier there. When I was cooking at home, there was no boundary between my business space and personal space. If I wanted to make a private phone call, I had to leave the house. My kids didn’t have a kitchen. They never knew if the food being prepared was for them or for a client. Now, home belongs to our family. I don’t bring work home now, but I do miss a lot of happenings in my personal life.

Hadassa: What are some of the challenges you now handle that you didn’t see coming when you first got into this business?

Batya: My biggest challenge is keeping the peace and managing the various personalities in the tight confines of my kitchen. For instance, I have a Venezuelan worker who is ex-military and another Venezuelan worker who was part of the rebellion. I’ve had to step between them and talk them out of a physical altercation, which is something I could never have anticipated being part of my regular workday.

Hadassa: I’m guessing that Yom Tov is your busy season. How do you manage to juggle work and family time? Do you make Yom Tov for your clients and again for your family?

Batya: Making Yom Tov at home isn’t stressful because I love to cook for my family. I’m able to make fresh staples really quickly. The hard part about my job is the family time that I miss out on all year when I work long hours.

But I do it because I truly believe that Hashem put me where I’m supposed to be. Aside from the kiddush Hashem that I can make by being a nice boss to my non-Jewish workers, I have a talent that helps people and I can provide a much-needed service. There are women who physically can’t make Shabbos or Yom Tov, and now they have a delicious, homemade option available for their families. There are overwhelmed working mothers who hire me so I can take this off their plate.

Hadassa: I know women who have bought your food in the past, particularly on Yom Tov. They were so grateful they had homemade food for their families, even though they couldn’t stand in the kitchen for hours.

Batya: We provide more than Yom Tov. People hire us to send food to a shivah house or a new mother or their elderly parents. There are many situations where people want homemade food and not takeout.

I love the chesed aspect of the job. On the bottom of my website, before you check out, you can add a donation. I take that donation, add eighteen percent, and we partner with our customers to send food to needy families for Yom Tov. I love being the conduit for community chesed. There’s someone who gives me enough money to send a full Yom Tov menu to ten families in the community. I can’t afford to give like that, but Hashem knows I really would love to, so He sends me tzaddikim who allow me to be a part of that mitzvah.

We once had a mom call to let us know that we were approved to send Seder food to an Alabama correctional facility. Apparently, we made history, because we were the first food establishment ever to be approved. I got heartfelt thank-you cards from the inmates after an emotional Seder. I don’t know if they were all Jewish, but if there was even one Jew attending, it was worth it.

We’re equipped to ship meals anywhere in the US — to patients in hospitals without access to kosher food, or children in non-kosher rehab facilities. During Covid, we worked around the clock. A family would lose a parent, there would be fifteen people suddenly sitting shivah, and now, they had a full Pesach waiting at their door.

I have also promised that as long as I am in this business, I’m  committed to sending Yom Tov food to “The Ranch,” a rehab center for Jewish girls.

Hadassa: I feel like you love cooking, but it’s chesed that is your passion.

Batya: That’s correct — chesed for my family and chesed for the community. It’s why I do what I do, even on the hard days. I’ve never turned down a chesed opportunity. I keep in mind that Hashem is the Boss, and I’m just His manager, striving to do my best every day.

After speaking to private chefs for a week, I found, to my surprise, that no one’s trajectory had been the same. With a few exceptions, most of them weren’t focused on the same clientele at all, and they all had different niches. Chef Hudi Riven told me that his niche was, simply, good food. From different techniques, such as fermenting fruits and vegetables, to making his own charcuterie, he loved to experiment with interesting ways of cooking.

Chef Hudi had been sure that he’d never become a pastry chef, then as life would have it, followed that with five years of pastry. I believe people warn you about saying “never” about anything. I too used to have a list of “nevers” as long as my arm and I think I’ve done almost every single one of them by now.  Hudi used to travel with his clients but has recently partnered with Aaron Chein, opening up an event space called The Venue by VIP Kosher Events where they do full-service catering and event planning both on and off site.

Chef Yossel Backman  was another talented chef with a fascinating backstory. He worked in Basil in Brooklyn, then went to Maryland to help open the first kosher food truck, called Brooklyn Sandwich Company. “Being on the food truck was very interesting,” he told me, because it gave him a totally different culinary experience. “Someone would order food, pay me immediately, and two minutes later, he’d have his meal in his hands, taking his first bite. Someone could have been in tough meetings all morning, but they’d come by and get a terrific hot pulled-brisket sandwich and you would see their mood just lift.” He liked to connect with the people that he was serving. “You don’t get that when you’re in a restaurant, because you don’t interact with the guests that way. I had such a great time on that truck because I was out there building relationships with my regulars.”

Now, Yossel travels around for private events. He has a rule that no matter where he travels and no matter how long he’s there for, every single day, in between every single meal, his team takes five full minutes outside. Five minutes of fresh air, taking in the view and getting sunlight. Sometimes they’re staying at beautiful and exotic locations, and it’s sad to get back on a plane after ten days in a kitchen and realize that they couldn’t even tell that they’d left New York. Those five minutes of intentional relaxation and mindfulness of their surroundings between each meal made a big difference.

It’s an amazing rule. If I took a five minutes a day to sit down and intentionally relax, I can tell you right now: I would stretch those five minutes into five hours, and I would mindfully not do a single thing on my To Do list.

Chef Meir Goldberg  is another chef who is very intentional about his cooking approach. Quite a number of friends pointed me in his direction, telling me that if I was looking for an innovative cook who had raised the bar in the fine dining space, I couldn’t do better than one of the chefs of SóL Dining. As we talked, I was struck by the fact that each chef really had their own unique twist on how they offered their service to clients.

Meir came out of yeshivah with no experience or background in food. He didn’t know how to cook. He didn’t even know how to hold a knife properly. But he trained at a top restaurant under a chef, Elior Balbul, who saw promise in him. “I think one of the reasons why he liked training me was that I didn’t come in with preconceived notions about how cooking is supposed to be or the ingrained rules that they teach you in school. He is truly an out-of-the-box culinary innovator in terms of flavor, color, and presentation, and he was able to train me through this nontraditional perspective.”

During Covid, Meir and his friend Yosef Epstein opened a small company where they did two-person dinners, such as anniversaries and birthdays. Soon, that grew so successful that they’re now doing events for 200 to 300 people. They make sure they’re still able to bring that private-chef taste and feel to these large events, and even change their menu every few months to stay creative.

Chef Sruli Subar

I didn’t know a lot about private chefs when I began researching this article, but I did know the piece wouldn’t be complete without Chef Sruli Subar. When I called Sruli to ask for an interview, the connection wasn’t great and it sounded like he said, “I’m in Africa and I don’t have great service here, but we’ll be able to speak when I get to Europe.” A few days and a few different time zones later, I finally managed to catch him between helicopters, planes, and boats somewhere.

Sruli: I think I’ve been awake for the past 38 hours straight.

Hadassa: I’ll make this as quick as possible so you can catch up on your sleep. How did you get started in the private chef space, and how did that evolve into traveling to such an extent that you’ve cooked in nearly 120 countries and seven continents?

Sruli: I’ve always loved cooking. I remember being in the kitchen at my older brother’s bar mitzvah, helping to serve. After leaving yeshivah, I worked for Greenwald Caterers in Lakewood, where I got most of my training. The chef there was my mentor and he taught me how to handle stressful and challenging situations, which is crucial in this line of work.

After doing this for so long, I’ve come to realize that while I love to cook, what I’m really passionate about is hospitality. I love being able to create an experience that my clients didn’t know was possible. When someone has been traveling for three days, eating nothing but peanuts and pretzels on a plane, and they finally show up to a familiar face with comfort food — giving them that kind of welcome is amazing.

I love anticipating my clients’ needs so their experience is more enjoyable. Of course, a large part of what I do is taking care of the food. And it’s not just Yom Tov meals, it’s making sure that there’s kid-friendly food for a kiddush Shabbos morning or toameha on Friday afternoon. And it’s having it ready to go before the client knows that they need it.

But it’s more than just food. If we arrive in Africa, and they didn’t realize it would be that sunny, I have suntan lotion. I really love the art of hospitality, being able to go above and beyond. For instance, right now, I’m in Europe. But for the last month, I’ve been in eight different countries. I flew on three helicopters and four planes to get here, because a client needed it.

Hadassa: That sounds like an unbelievable amount of travel. I’m exhausted just thinking about it, never mind the actual work you need to do when you get there.

Sruli: That’s part of the thrill. Juggling all the details and keeping all these balls in the air isn’t  only comfortable for me — this is where I shine. I’ve had the opportunity to cook in palaces for kings and for presidents of different countries. I once outran a bull while in a golf cart and I’ve been chased by a hippo while in a boat on a river.

Hadassa: I need to tell you that while I don’t particularly love cooking, at the moment, your job sounds infinitely cooler than mine. Perhaps you can ask your next client if they have any need for a writer to join the trip? I’ll make myself available.

Sruli: I’ll see what I can do.

Hadassa: Thanks. That would be great. There are so many different chefs out there, some doing similar jobs and some catering to different crowds. Would you say there is camaraderie in the industry? Do you collaborate with each other?

Sruli: There are a few groups on WhatsApp that have event planners together with private chefs. If one of them gets stuck on a job, people on the chat will work together to come up with a solution. There’s a lot of helping each other out. There’s definitely more camaraderie than not, which is a beautiful thing. People call me all the time and ask for recommendations on logistics in different countries. It’s my pleasure to help when I can.

Hadassa: That’s really nice to hear. Also, listen, about that comment I made earlier — I wasn’t joking about wanting to take this writing gig on the road. I have never been chased by a bull. Not even once. Who do I talk to about this?

When I finished writing up my notes on the final interview, I realized a couple of things. First, while I’m happy to make good food for my family, I still don’t love the actual chore of cooking. It’s a job that I would be thrilled to hand over to a talented someone else.

I think it’s wonderful how much these chefs love what they do, and it’s inspiring to meet people who bring such passion to their chosen profession. To be honest, I’m in awe of people with such a different skillset than mine. When I read a recipe that says to sprinkle a spice “to taste,” that recipe becomes my sworn enemy. If I could spice things according to my own taste, I’m quite sure I wouldn’t have needed a recipe in the first place.

The second thing I realized is that there’s an actual limit to how much writing I can do to avoid my Yom Tov preparations before real-life panic sets in. I loved meeting chefs and I loved introducing them to you, but alas, all good things must come to an end. Especially since Yom Tov is only a few days away and all I’ve done so far is write “Buy apples” on a list somewhere.

I’m going to start cooking tonight.

Or by tomorrow, at the latest.

Please note that information in this article is intended for informational purposes only and inclusion in this article should not be construed as an endorsement of hashgachah. As always, readers should carefully do their own research of hechsherim and hashgachos before making any purchases or orders.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 915)