“What does success taste like, Elif Oskan?”

The Zurich chef and entrepreneur on happiness, leadership qualities and theatrics: part four of the interview series on role models that promote equality.

What does success taste like?

Does that mean I’m successful then? Who decides? I have many options – I cook, I’m on TV, I’ve written a book. But professional goals don’t motivate me. I’m interested in feelings. Moments of happiness. When I can make guests happy in my Restaurant Gül.

OK, so what do these happy moments taste like?

Like strawberry cream. People expect so much from happiness. Yet it’s often much more understated. For me, it’s all about consciously lived moments, like spending time with my father. And the other kind of happiness: when I’m running late yet I still catch my train – I get more of a kick out of that.

You met your partner in the kitchen. Is he perceived differently there as a man?

No. Having said that, women’s skills are definitely questioned more often. The problem is structural. Influential female chefs are still far from being mainstream. But at the end of the day, only one thing matters: whether the food tastes good.

What about women in the catering sector?

Things are starting to shift. Kitchens are historically evolved power structures, but we can decide how we lead. For me, it’s less about hierarchy than clarity. Like an orchestra: it needs a female conductor, but everyone is important.

Did you deliberately choose a high proportion of women in your team?

I attract a certain type of person. The men in my team are also extremely empathetic. Feelings act as a filter.

How did the women around you shape you?

My mother and sister gave me the gift of basic trust, not just in myself, but in other women too.

How much theatrics does a plate need?

Hardly at all for me, personally. But my restaurant is as noisy as an extended family. It’s always Christmas here, and the confetti is always flying.

We cook on charcoal, so when we grill bread, the aromas are louder than during a quiet bake. Silence comes during the closing credits: in the harmonious baklava.

What’s a private meal for you?

A boiled egg with salt. A potato with a half-melted knob of butter.

What’s your earliest memory of cooking?

My first home-made marble cake. Best of all, my father thought it was shop-bought. I don’t remember what it tasted like, but I remember that feeling very well. That’s what I call a real success.