Every once in a while, a name pops up on my calendar that takes me down memory lane. I was chef de partie on sauce and my sous was a German dude called Udo. The town of St. Moritz in Switzerland is basically the Aspen of Europe, with Davos and St. Moritz competing every year who is hipper and richer. Then, it was St. Moritz and the restaurant was the Kulm. Kulm is Swiss German for "Peak" and as our owner was never shy to tell us, that's what he wanted from us in the kitchen - peak performance, no matter what.
Udo held the fort when we were in the weeds. He propped us up, when we fucked up. He covered for us. And he was always willing to go out for a smoke and listen. Without Udo, I'd have thrown in the towel then and there a few dozen times.
He went on to travel, I went on to open, star, and totally ruin my own.
And then, 2009, I was in California, meeting with a few chefs and restaurateurs about a hypothetical expansion into the US. Vegas started to become a food hotspot and, to be honest, we knew we wanted to go, but used the visits to see which cooks we could borrow, hire, or poach. It's the kitchen, don't judge me.
One stage at a station in one of those Bay Area Michelin places (sadly now closed) was tourneying parsnips. And she did an amazing job, better than I'd seen in a while. "Where did you learn this?" I asked. "Chef Udo Prambs at my school made me do this a lot."
Lightning, thunder. Fuck me. Udo's here?
And that's when I found out he'd been teaching at a place called PCI in Campbell for a while already.
Taken on my surprise visit in 2009. You can see from his face, he wasn't really believing his eyes.
We reconnected there (see picture) and I found out that, despite his Morbus Crohn, he still smoked and ate whatever he wanted. And that he'd married Ramy, which was great to hear.
Now, why did this subreddit make me cry? Because the last time I saw him was in 2018. Vegas never happened, we opened in Oslo instead, and I only met him once a year or less for a five day cook-fest at his place. The last time we met, he made me cook Schnitzel for Tony Bourdain, which was a trip in and by itself.
And then I flew over to bury him. And now, almost six years later, I Google his name, and I find this: https://www.reddit.com/r/KitchenConfidential/comments/hunkna/we_say_goodbye_to_one_of_the_most_talented_and/ and it made me legit cry. I am in my 50s. I've worked some great and some shit jobs. I cried my share. But this, this hit different.
Thanks, guys. You made me truly happy to see, that his legend was not and is not and will not be forgotten.