Sending Back a Gordon Ramsay Wellington…

When I got the call to photograph the menu and interiors for Canada’s first Gordon Ramsay Hell’s Kitchen, I was excited.

Actually, I was fucking excited.

I wasn’t nervous. After more than 25 years in the game, you learn to trust the process and your preparation. You get excited about the opportunity, sure, but you don’t panic. You show up prepared, figure out what needs to be done, make some decisions and get to work. It’s kind of the same whether you’re shooting Chris Hadfield, Connor McDavid or Susan from an accounting firm.

We were shooting at River Cree Resort & Casino in Enoch, just outside Edmonton. Hell’s Kitchen is one of those brands that needs no introduction, and this was the first one in Canada. There was a lot riding on getting the images right. They had brand “guidelines,” and my AD, Nate, was super prepared as well.

I’m not—and never have been—one of those photographers who rolls in with a massive crew to impress everyone. Sometimes I come on my own. Sometimes I bring an assistant. But I’ve never been a big-hoopla production guy.

Sometimes that takes people back a little.

Where is your arsenal of people?

It’s just not for me. And honestly, over the years, most of my clients have really appreciated that.

Gordon’s main guy and best mate was a lovely Irishman who basically ran the show. I won’t name him because he’s a private guy, but he promptly introduced himself with: “Oh! So you didn’t bring a fucking city of assistants with you, eh?”

We got along immediately.

He appreciated that I didn’t fuck around or waste time. I was prepared, I made an artistic call and stuck to it. He was firm with his kitchen crew, but when it came to me, we got on very well.

So, NO—Gordon Ramsay himself wasn’t actually on set.

Gordon was, however, very much involved.

I realized that when the Irishman took a screenshot of my first photo and said:

“One sec. I’m going to call Gordon…”

In my head:

I mean… fuck. Yeah, I guess so. Just call Gordon.

Right. Gordon Ramsay.

Shit. Okay.

WhatsApp is a real thing.

Gordon gave a quick thumbs-up, and away we went. Throughout the morning, the Irishman kept giving Gordon updates on how things were progressing. I think there was a “Fucking brilliant, man,” or some words to that effect in there.

But probably the most important words of the morning were:

“Gordon is really happy.”

The photography brief from Gordon and the team was pretty straightforward. They wanted something moody. Atmospheric. Darker and more dramatic than the typical bright, natural-light food-influencer photography. So I leaned into it. Dark surfaces. Shadows. Forks and napkins creeping into the frames. A little messier. A little moodier. Something that felt like Hell’s Kitchen.

Then the Wellington came out.

It looked good in real life.

But under my light? It just wasn’t vibing. I needed to tweak a few things, and I wasn’t happy with my pour either. It was good. Just not good enough.

And I knew Gordon was going to be reviewing this shot.

I wasn’t going to settle for a 2/5 Wellington.

So…

I sent it back.

For another one.

I sent back a Gordon Ramsay Wellington.

In my head, I’m thinking:

Who the fuck do you think you are, Comeau?

The Irishman laughed at my 2/5 comment, agreed with me, and had his crew fire up another one it takes about 22 min by the way...

The second Wellington came out perfect.

Five shots.

Done.

We moved on.

And then, about a quarter of the way into the shoot—right after that Wellington shot—something happened.

Gordon was gone.

The updates stopped. No more screenshots. No more calls. No more checking in. We just carried on, ripping through menu items.

And I realized what had happened.

I had earned their trust.

That might have been my favorite part of the whole experience. Despite the Gordon Ramsay name, the Hell’s Kitchen brand, the Irishman who has opened something like 130 of his restaurants, the first-in-Canada significance, and all the people involved… It had become just another shoot.

And that was nice.

I guess that’s what 25+ years behind a camera does. You get excited, but you don’t panic.

You look at what’s in front of you. You make the photograph the way you think it should be made. You trust your experience. And then you move on to the next one.

Being trusted to photograph so many significant things, from this to NHL games, business portraits, and more in Edmonton, is a privilege.

But being able to approach it the same way I approach every other job—intimately, calmly, creatively — was probably the best part for me personally.

Although sending back a Gordon Ramsay Wellington is right up there. :)