Punchy notes of violin. Enticing shots of meticulously plated food. An intimately zoomed-in portrait of a chef, earnestly sharing to the camera the ups and downs of their culinary journey. While this recipe that makes up each episode of the Emmy-nominated food documentary series may feel simple, the creators of “Chef’s Table” don’t simply aim for the stomach, but the heart.
Since 2015, Netflix’s “Chef’s Table” has undoubtedly captured the attention of not only the culinary community, but the general public as well. After the first season, which saw Michelin-starred and top ranked chefs from all over the world telling their stories, the docuseries was so popular that Netflix continued with a total of six seasons as well as premiering two spin-offs: “Chef’s Table: France” and “Chef’s Table: BBQ.” Now, having just launched a new spin-off with “Chef’s Table: Noodles” in October, the streaming giant has plans to return at the end of this month with a seventh season while promising an additional spin-off in 2025, celebrating the crème de la crème with “Chef’s Table: Legends.”
With the new release of “Chef’s Table: Noodles” and the promise of more installments in the “Chef’s Table” universe on the horizon, I want to reflect on what makes the series so beloved and if its most recent spin-off is able to recapture the magic behind the original concept.
From dry pasta to wheat knife-cut noodles, each of the four “Chef’s Table: Noodles” episodes focuses on a different chef (Evan Funke, Guirong Wei, Peppe Guida and Nite Yun) who has built their career on a variation of noodles. While it may have been their food that brought each chef to critical acclaim or commercial success, it is their story that brings them into the audience’s heart. For instance, Nite Yun’s steadfast efforts to preserve Cambodian cuisine as a Cambodian American chef is touching and heartfelt. Yun takes the memories of being born in a refugee camp in Thailand and an immigrant childhood in America, fusing them with her parents’ journey of fleeing from the Cambodian genocide to create delicious bowls of noodles. As the camera pans to cinematic footage of her walking through Cambodia’s vibrant night markets, Yun talks the audience through how going to Cambodia as a young adult helped her find belonging in her multicultural identity. When Cambodia’s rural farming landscapes are on the screen, Yun details stories of her relationship with her mother and her mother’s perseverance to live even while witnessing the devastation of war. Within the episode’s 40 minutes, the audience is brought on such an emotional journey that in the end, when a beautiful bowl of Yun’s noodles is shown, the viewer is left with an overwhelming sense that each bowl is made with much more than flour and water. Behind every satisfying slurp and every flavorful mouthful is a daughter who strives to honor her Cambodian heritage and her parents’ story. This sort of heart-wrenching, inspiring storytelling where the food serves as a vehicle for the story behind the chef is what the “Chef’s Table” franchise does best.
The idea of a food docuseries inherently walks a tightrope because the viewer is unable to taste the food through to screen to decide for themselves whether or not the chef’s food is worthwhile, so the spotlight cannot be on the food alone. Always consumed and always in demand, food is also typically mundane—we all need food, and we all eat food. In the same way reality cooking shows like “MasterChef” and “Iron Chef” draw in viewers with their focus on drama and competition, the beauty of “Chef’s Table” lies in its masterful storytelling. It wouldn’t be captivating to watch chefs make everyday dishes like grilled cheese and Cobb salad, but seeing the humble inspirations behind chefs who push culinary boundaries feels refreshingly human; in the third episode of “Chef’s Table: Noodles,” the viewer sees the story of Peppe Guida’s work with dry pasta, which stems from his love for his mother’s cooking. The episode stirs great emotional appeal in its universal experience of a parent’s love encouraging their child to pursue a dream.
Ultimately, I was surprised to see that all four episodes managed to tell a distinct story, even as the medium of noodles remained a common theme between the chefs. As “Chef’s Table” is currently in its sixth season and third spin-off, it may become increasingly difficult for the series to deliver a fresh take without the emotional storytelling formula feeling forced and repetitive. “Chef’s Table: Noodles” has avoided making this mistake by focusing on what makes each chef unique. For Guirong Wei, it’s her story of moving away from her family in the rural mountainous region of China to give her sisters a better life through cooking noodles inspired by her hometown—it’s a narrative that only she can tell. A journey from Italy to Cambodia, by letting each chef’s cultural and culinary identity take front stage, the series has managed to deliver new takes while capturing the original essence of “Chef’s Table.” I will be curious to see if season seven of “Chef’s Table,” premiering on Netflix on Nov. 27 and “Chef’s Table: Legends” (2025) will be able to do the same.
