RECIPE FOR success
WHAT IT TAKES TO BE A GOOD CHEF
“IF you want to be successful in this industry, you have to be prepared to “berkorban, terkorban
and di korbankan! (sacrifice, perish, and be sacrificed)” And that’s the mantra that the bubbly chef de cuisine of Harrods’ Tea Room (formerly Harrods’ Tea Salon) in Suria KLCC, KL, Chef Razman Hazizy lives by. It’s also a mantra that the chef, already 29 years in the industry, lobs at those young wanna-be chefs who come to his kitchen seeking internship. “But you know what, this generation, very ‘manja-lah’
(coddled). Nothing like when I was doing my training many moons ago. This lot, you raise your voice, ‘terus nak nangis’ (immediately want to cry).”
The lively Ipoh-born chef whom I’m meeting for a review of Harrods’ Christmas and New Year fare, blames those food channels on TV that the young ones are fed on. “They glamorise the kitchen. And suddenly every child dreams of being a celebrity chef. Reality is, being a chef is a lot of hard work.”
He confides that he even tells his daughters not to bother entering the profession if they don’t have the willpower to stomach some sharp learning curves. “I tell them this isn’t a profession for the sensitive, easily slighted or soft. It really is survival of the fittest if you want to be a good chef.”
Truly in his element, Razman, who has only been commanding the Harrods’ kitchen in the last six months, points to the emergence of a generation of young chefs who are currently lording it on the idiot box. “You think they went through the school of hard knocks? What do they know about real kitchen operations? They fast-tracked their journey and suddenly they have the title of ‘chef’ tagged to their name. Let’s just say I’m not too fond of this... err, species.”
Adjusting his dark chef’s toque before deciding to just whip it off from his head, Razman’s outspokenness certainly adds a dash of colour to the more staid set-up of the Tea Room, located deep in the inner sanctum of the Harrods store. A sliver of sunlight streams in from the oversized window, and from where I’m seated, I can see the beginnings of a giant Christmas tree slowly taking shape. In a few days the lights and decorations will be up and the mall will be abuzz with Christmas shoppers.
Turning my attention back to the affable chef, I coax him to share his backstory. Had he always been passionate about cooking? He shakes his head, grinning as he notes my look of disbelief. “Actually, I was ‘forced’ to learn to cook! When I was growing up, our family had a maid. But suddenly the maid left. Both my parents were working at the time (his late father was a JPJ deputy general, and mum an ASP police) and my siblings and I were schooling. So my folks decided to have dishes ‘tapau-ed’ for us in these little Tiffin carriers. All we needed to do was cook the rice.”
But, recalls the 50-year-old, the eldest of four siblings, the dishes didn’t taste particularly nice so he decided to try his hand at cooking. “It so happened that when we still had the maid, I used to like hanging around in the kitchen and watching her cook curries and stuff. I’d be her little ‘taster’ boy. When I decided to cook our first meal, it was fried rice!”
The chef, who cites Western cuisine (Italian and French) as his forte, started working soon after graduating from thethen ITM (now UiTM). Pride in his voice, Razman confides that former MasterChef Malaysia judge, Chef Zubir Md Zain was his senior, as too the famous MasterChef Malaysia juror, Chef Jo a.k.a Mohd Johari Edrus. His culinary journey has taken him to the kitchens of Bali (he was there from 2008 to 2013) and later to Chef Zubir’s kitchen followed by a stint in Papa Jo’s own kitchen at Symphony by Papa Jo.
Asked who his idol is, Razman is quick to cite that enfant terrible of the UK restaurant scene and celebrity chef, Marco Pierre White. “It’s not that I don’t like Gordon Ramsay (also another UK celebrity chef who’s famous for his tantrums in the kitchen). I like how White operates in the kitchen. He never shouts and is an all-round simple guy.”
Does he shout in his kitchen? Razman grins before answering: “I used to in the past but these days I just nag. If you don’t nag, things won’t get done! I even used to throw plates around or binned plates of food because that’s how I was trained.”
During his own learning period back in the 80s and 90s, there weren’t as many options for internship, recalls Razman,