Delicious food is often a certified path to celebrity. But mafia connections,
serial misconduct, and the whims of a changing
culture can just as easily take all that fame and fortune away.
Emeril Lagasse was basically the heartbeat of Food Network's early years. The lovable chef
was one of the channel's original showmen as the host of 1993's How to Boil Water,
which eventually expanded into Essence of Emeril and Emeril Live! Audiences
were captivated by Lagasse's fresh interpretations and zippy catchphrases.
"Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!"
A line of cookbooks, appliances, and spice blends soon followed. Lagasse wasn't just a chef, he was
a brand. When Food Network pulled the plug on his shows after 15 years, he sold the Emeril brand to
Martha Stweart to the tune of $50 million. He then appeared as a guest judge on Top Chef and hosted
the short-lived Eat the World with Emeril, but his TV presence and his restaurants were losing steam.
The late 2000s recession and the COVID-19 pandemic were two of the
main culprits behind Lagasse's demise. One of his most well-known eateries,
NOLA, never reopened. But he's made peace with slowing down, telling Esquire in 2022,
"As you get older, two things either happen: You either don't get it,
which you should've because life should be a learning experience,
or you do get it. I'm not saying I totally get it, but I get it."
As Britain's resident hedonistic chef, Keith Floyd's star rose in the '80s when the BBC
asked him to film a series called Floyd On Fish after seeing his televised short of the same
name. It was an unlikely move for a man whose culinary career began in an Army mess hall,
but it worked. Floyd on Fish was only the beginning, as it led to Floyd on France,
Floyd Uncorked, Floyd's American Pie, and many more.
As the '90s rolled in, Floyd was a household name, adored in the U.K. for his quirky humor,
floppy bow tie, and perpetual glass of red wine.
"One of the most essential things is going to be a bottle of good, strong red wine."
But then the high tide of celebrity rolled away. Furthermore, he had to deal with
mental strain and financial woes. He filed for bankruptcy after 12 of his restaurants closed,
and by the mid-'90s he was aimless and basically retired.
Floyd wouldn't resurface on TV until the late 2000s for a documentary called Keith Meets Keith,
in which actor Keith Allen tracked down Floyd, whom he considered a hero of sorts. On September
14, 2009, the same evening that Keith Meets Keith was set to air on Channel 4, Floyd, who had
recently gone through treatment for bowel cancer, had a heart attack and died at the age of 65.
David Ruggerio's culinary career was undercut by
the fact that he was born into the Gambino crime family. Despite that,
he was also the face of some of New York City's most upscale French restaurants.
TV fame followed, including the PBS series Little Italy With David Ruggerio and Food
Network's Ruggerio to Go. But behind the scenes, he was involved in heroin dealing,
loan sharking, and even murder. In 2022, he admitted to Vanity Fair,
"I was a tortured person. I knew right from wrong, but at times I couldn't stop myself."
In July of 1998, Manhattan police searched Ruggerio's restaurant Le Chantilly on suspicion
that he was behind a credit card company defrauding scheme. Ultimately, he pleaded
guilty to inflating diners' credit card tips, thereby cheating the company out of $190,000. The
scandal led him to lose his spot on Food Network's roster, and his restaurants ended up closing. He
filed for bankruptcy and retreated from the public eye. In 2014, his son died of a drug overdose,
prompting Ruggerio to share the unbelievable details of his double life with the world.
Clarissa Dickson Wright and Jennifer Paterson, better known as the "Two Fat
Ladies," were the deliciously snarky British cooks and faces of the 1996 BBC show of the
same name. The show's premise was simple: Paterson operated a Triumph Thunderbird
motorcycle while Dickson Wright enjoyed the pastoral views from her seat in the
double-wide sidecar. Together, they surveyed Great Britain's rural land,
prowling for exceptional ingredients to make rustic recipes in antique kitchens.
Dickson Wright and Paterson quickly found favor across the pond as well.
PBS and Food Network regularly aired Two Fat Ladies in the '90s,
and it's continued to air in syndication. They made peculiar places and recipes accessible,
cracked jokes with the locals, and just generally seemed to be enjoying life.
But that all sadly changed in 1999 when Paterson was diagnosed with lung cancer
and died that same year. Two Fat Ladies was in its fourth season and came to a screeching
halt. Dickson Wright would move on to the show Clarissa and the Countrymen in the early 2000s,
but it was never quite as iconic as Two Fat Ladies. She passed away in 2014 at the age of 66.
"See, it's fun just talking about the Two Fat Ladies."
"Can't we find some other really fat people to watch?"
In the 1970s, Joël Robuchon was successfully working in some of the most respected kitchens
of his native France. At the time, fine dining and French food were basically
synonymous. The fanciest restaurants around the world championed a Parisian influence,
which far too often entailed overworked courses consumed in
pretentious environments. But Robuchon wasn't having that. The talented young
chef appreciated truffles and caviar as much as the next discerning Frenchman, but he felt that
they could be celebrated as part of simpler dishes where robust flavors took precedence.
Enter the humble potato. That might sound quite modest,
but not when passed through Robuchon's hands. It was an unlikely signature dish
for someone with his level of skill, but the consensus was that his rich,
whisked-to-perfection mashed potatoes epitomized world class. So why did he hang it all up?
Robuchon claimed that he'd never seen a snowy mountaintop because he was too busy working,
and he wanted to spend time in nature and with his family. Years later, he was back on the scene,
though, opening restaurants in Paris, Tokyo, and New York and earning a pile of Michelin
stars in the process. He was Michelin's most decorated chef of all time in 2016,
having earned 32 stars. In 2018, he died at the age of 73 from cancer.
"Admirers described him as the artist who most influenced the 20th century world of cuisine."
Biker Billy Cooks with Fire was a public access show with a niche
following in the '90s. Billy really stood out from other celeb chefs of
the day. For one thing, he was clad in black sunglasses and casual clothing,
while his bushy beard pointed toward his chest and his hair grazed his belt loops.
Everything about Biker Billy was decidedly low-budget. The set was a plain black
background and the video quality was fuzzy. Billy used disposable plates and bowls and
dried herbs from store-bought containers, and he cooked on an electric hot plate
that was more suited to a campground than a professional chef's counter. Nevertheless,
his fans were excited to watch his informal and enthusiastic
tutorials characterized by a preference for pepper-heavy, vegetarian-friendly foods.
In 2016, Billy's public presence had become so diminished that word began
to spread online that he was dead. So he addressed the rumors on his blog
in a post entitled "The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated."
Back in the '90s, Rocco DiSpirito was just getting started. In 1997,
he quickly gained favorable media attention as the executive chef at New York City's Union Pacific,
where he was applauded by critics as one of the most creative chefs around. In 1999,
Food & Wine awarded him the title of "Best New Chef." Being named "Sexiest Chef Alive''
by People Magazine was yet another boost to his credentials. In 2003, DiSpirito decided to dip a
toe into reality TV waters with his NBC show The Restaurant. The documentary-style series followed
Dispirito and his staff as he prepared to open his second Manhattan restaurant, called Rocco's.
But The Restaurant turned out to be a fleeting endeavor, ending just a year after it began.
Around that time, DiSpirito's squabbles with his financial backer became so heated that he wound
up legally barred from entering the restaurant he'd created. He also cut ties with Union Pacific.
The years that followed would see DiSpirito making appearances on QVC and strutting his
stuff on Dancing with the Stars. Basically, he was doing anything but cooking. His mother's death and
his own health issues kept him out of the public eye for much of the 2010s. In 2018, he finally
returned to the restaurant scene at The Standard Grill, from which he stepped away a year later.
"There's some nights when you just don't know what's gonna happen next."
Louisiana-based chef John Besh gained plenty of publicity for his standout culinary skills
by making Food & Wine's list of "Best New Chefs" in 1999. Within two years,
he opened his first restaurant, the highly-rated August, in New Orleans. Life was good for Besh,
a proud family man. He based one of his cooking shows, Chef John Besh's Family Table, and a
cookbook called My Family Table: A Passionate Plea For Home Cooking around that very sentiment.
It would take more than a family-friendly image to
pull Besh out of the scandal that he eventually found himself. In 2017,
an investigation substantiated a flurry of reports that his Besh Restaurant Group
was a cesspool of sexual harassment and other troubling behavior toward women.
"If there is a problem, it's important to be able to express it."
The allegations also disclosed that Besh had
engaged in an extra-marital affair. He released a statement that read,
"I have been seeking to rebuild my marriage and come to terms with my reckless actions."
Besh stepped down from his position as Chief Executive Officer of Besh Restaurant Group,
and fellow celeb chefs like Aarón Sánchez cut ties with him. As of 2023,
his official website and social media accounts are nothing but dead air,
and his last public comments date back to September 2017.
Mario Batali is now mainly associated with the wrong side of the #MeToo movement,
but back in the '90s he was really cooking. He cemented his fame on the Food Network,
as his show Molto Mario aired from 1996 to 2004. From 2005 to 2009, he was a regular on
Iron Chef America, which then led to a hosting gig on ABC's cooking-talk show hybrid The Chew.
Batali was influential in the restaurant scene as well, especially in Manhattan. He also opened
over a dozen eateries internationally, but his downfall was swift and hard. In 2017,
several women, mostly former employees, alleged that Batali sexually harassed and
intimidated them. Some even accused him of sexual assault. He was promptly fired from
The Chew and plans to resurrect Molto Mario with Food Network were scrapped.
By 2019, he was forced to step down from his restaurants. He and his business partner Joe
Bastianich also paid a $600,000 settlement to the employees victimized by their toxic
behavior. Batali settled two more lawsuits in 2022 with women claiming
he groped them in Boston. Nowadays, he has no choice but to keep a low profile.
Anyone well-versed in vintage PBS cooking shows knows about The Frugal Gourmet,
which was hosted by Jeff Smith, a minister turned gourmand. Smith instructed viewers how to make
all kinds of recipes on the show for well over a decade. The show was a longtime hit for PBS
and became a source of fame for Smith, who also profited off cookbooks and media appearances.
"Hi, and welcome to my kitchen again!"
But darkness lingered beneath the surface. Since the 1970s,
Smith had allegedly groomed and sexually assaulted teenage boys, some as young as
14. Reports of his predatory behavior date back to his life before The Frugal Gourmet,
when he ran a deli in Tacoma, Washington. Although some publications reported that Smith's misdeeds
were known among Tacoma locals in those days, the accusations didn't gain traction until the '90s
when several of his accusers went public. Upwards of 20 men filed suit against him.
Smith ultimately paid the price of all these lawsuits. The Frugal Gourmet was
promptly pulled from syndication in 1997, effectively ending his career. In 1998,
just days before he was set to stand trial, he settled out of court,
paying an undisclosed amount to seven of the men who were suing him. His final years were
spent away from the cameras, and he died of heart disease in 2004 at the age of 65.
If you or anyone you know has been a victim of sexual assault,
help is available. Visit the Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network
website or contact RAINN's National Helpline at 1-800-656-HOPE (4673).