Billy Gallagher: Big chef in the small kitchen of SA
1948-2016
BILLY Gallagher, who has died in Johannesburg at the age of 67, was South Africa’s first celebrity chef.
Before being shot during a hijacking attempt in Johannesburg in 2000 that left him paralysed from the neck down, he was a star of the food industry in South Africa, Europe and the US. Wherever food was taken seriously he was famous.
He was the first president of the South African Chefs Association, and was elected president of the World Association of Chefs’ Societies in 1996. This was the highest accolade in the industry as the position had been dominated by Europeans and Americans.
When Gallagher became the first chef from South Africa to be elected, it was a signal honour for the country — although many in the global industry felt the country never appreciated what a really big deal it was — and an acknowledgment that South Africa was a world player not only on the rugby field but in the kitchen.
Most of this was his doing. When he arrived from England in 1973, South Africa was a backwater in terms of culinary skills and appreciation. His meteoric rise owed as much to his brilliance as to the lack of competition.
He had no illusions about this. His first year was an “eye-opener”, he wrote in his autobiography, Lettuce and a Lady’s Breast, and he didn’t mean this as a compliment. He found “little depth of knowledge and a massive need for training”.
He was immediately employed by Southern Sun as executive sous chef at the new five-star Elizabeth Hotel in Port Elizabeth, and two years later was promoted to maitre chef des cuisines. In 1977, he was promoted to the five-star Landdrost Hotel in Johannesburg, the company’s flagship, as maitre chef des cuisines, and by 1983 he was group executive chef of Southern Sun Hotels.
A year later, he was group food and beverage manager and in 1985 group food and beverage director. By March 1988 he was on the board of Southern Sun Holdings.
Gallagher’s astonishing success was due to more than his skill in the kitchen. His roast beef and roast potatoes were deservedly celebrated, but it was his innovation, personality and marketability that separated him from other chefs.
He took the chef out of the kitchen. He was the first top chef in the country to venture out of his domain and engage with his customers. If they were really serious about food, he would invite them into the kitchen to see how it was done. They were seldom less than deeply impressed.
He attracted a lot of publicity for his employers as top food writers PERSONALITY: Chef Billy Gallagher, above, in the Sandton Sun kitchen in 1993 and, below, in recent years
He was the first top chef in the country to venture out of his domain and engage with his customers
began to notice him and write extensively about him.
As he climbed the ladder he collected only friends and admirers, it seems. He needed to be liked and worked hard at it. Colleagues in the industry, fellow chefs and food writers were flattered when he remembered their names and personal details. If someone said or wrote something negative or critical he pursued it to find out why, and often charmed them.
In an industry where envy and backbiting are not entirely unknown, his popularity was as much of an achievement as his rapid ascension.
The religious connotation of this description is apt, because after his hijacking he became even more of a celebrity than he was already.
His magnificent response to his tragedy, his lack of bitterness or self-pity and the incredibly hard work he put into transforming the industry from the all-white club he felt it continued to be for far too long, elevated him to a status close to sainthood.
In the worldwide industry he was revered. International accolades were heaped on him. The Egyptian Chefs Association called him the “Godfather of all chefs”.
Gallagher was born on August 17 1948 in a poor working-class part of Newcastle, northern England, where he served as an apprentice chef. He was a certified Master Chef from Westminster College in London. Before coming to South Africa he was at the Dorchester in London.
He is survived by his wife, Linda, and two sons. — Chris Barron