Food Network Star Anne Burrell, Found Dead at 55, Always Knew She Would Be Famous

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Anne Burrell, the renowned chef from Food Network, tragically passed away at her Brooklyn home on June 17, aged 55. Nearly since her debut as a sous chef on the initial episode of Iron Chef America in 2004, assisting Mario Batali, she captivated audiences with her dynamic personality and intense kitchen presence. This fascination led to her own cooking show, Secrets of a Restaurant Chef.

In my interview with her for my 2013 book From Scratch: Inside the Food Network, Burrell shared stories about her challenging upbringing and her childhood dream of being friends with Julia Child. She also mentioned a family member grappling with alcoholism. The restaurant industry often serves as a second family to many. I recall her in happier times, passionately singing “Country roads/ take me home…” at karaoke, a spectacle that couldn’t be ignored. Her dedication was evident not only in her personal life but also on the set of her cooking show. Food Network remains a significant brand, and Burrell’s passing leaves us mourning not just as a human loss, but also because we missed out on the extraordinary projects she might have created next.

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In the highly anticipated cook-off on Iron Chef America: Battle of the Masters, Mario Batali selected his sous chefs – Anne Burrell from Italian Wine Merchants and Mark Ladner of Casa Mono in Manhattan. Both were renowned for their exceptional culinary skills, a trait that appealed to Mario’s passion for them. Upon learning she was chosen, Anne let out such an exuberant yell that those around thought she might have been injured.

As soon as Mario was declared victorious in his cook-off against Morimino, he looked at Anne and Mark and exclaimed, “From now on, you’ll be a part of my Iron Chef team for good!

Six years down the line, my trip to the set of Secrets of a Restaurant Chef exposed the tough task of molding a seasoned chef into the high-priced confines of a contemporary half-hour cooking program. Burrell, who by then was an accomplished and esteemed figure in professional kitchens, starred in it. Raised under sometimes harsh conditions in a modest upstate New York town, Anne shared that she could not discern her father’s drunkenness from his exterior, “Yet, I would later grasp that I had no clue what he was saying. Nothing seemed to make sense.

From a young age, she often imagined herself becoming well-known as an adult. She held the conviction that she was unique, possessing a certain “shimmering quality.” Additionally, she found comfort in television programs. At just three years old, she told her mother about a new friend named Julie she had made.

“Julie who?” Anne’s mother asked.

Anne here, and let me tell you about my TV pal, ‘Julie Child.’ She’d whip up these gorgeous dishes that made my heart flutter. She always seemed so friendly, just like an old buddy.

Anne surmised that her adversary wasn’t the ordinary individual, but rather someone like that. She knew she didn’t fit into that category. At 19, she began working in restaurants to save up for a car, yet found herself deeply engrossed in the lifestyle. After work each evening, the restaurant crowd would head out late and indulge in heavy drinking, discuss various fascinating topics, sleep in late, and then repeat the cycle the next day.

In the passage of time, Anne discovered herself striving to maintain a more “serious” position as a doctor recruitment specialist in a gloomy office in Buffalo, New York. On an uncommonly balmy workday evening, as she walked her pet, a revelation struck: “At 23 years old, I am far too young to feel this wretched. I will enroll at the Culinary Institute of America and open a restaurant in Manhattan.

Due to her stints on Iron Chef America, characterized by her assertive demeanor, restaurant background, and striking peroxide hairstyle, the network granted her a show of her own in 2008 titled Secrets of a Restaurant Chef. In this program, she imparted valuable professional cooking techniques to home cooks. Television executives appreciated that her on-screen persona mirrored the hectic atmosphere of a restaurant kitchen and brought a fresh element to their “In the Kitchen” programming lineup. However, Anne was not as polished as Rachael Ray, Giada De Laurentiis, or Ina Garten on television. Instead, she proved to be quite a handful.

Back in the early ’90s, I remember the thrill of producing my own 30-minute cooking show for a cool $2,000, with around $300 going to the star talent. Compare that to high-end productions like “Secrets of a Restaurant Chef,” which would easily run up to $50,000 per episode!

One sunny morning at 10:30, we were ready to start taping the first of four segments for our half-hour show. The first segment, approximately seven minutes long, was just a fraction of the total 22 minutes of non-commercial airtime needed to fill our slot. With everything running smoothly, we aimed to complete all four segments of episode #LR0612 within three and a half hours. After that, we’d take a lunch break from 2 to 3, then start on another episode titled “The Secret to Garlic Chicken Casserole” at 3:15 p.m.

The first phone call from the Food Network’s main studio came in at 8 a.m. Anne showed up at 8:30. After spending an hour and a half getting ready, she was expected on the set at the designated time, where she spent the next thirty minutes with the director and producers rehearsing.

For today’s show, we’re supposed to make spinach and ricotta dumplings in a speedy tomato sauce, followed by an apricot-nectarine dessert shortcake served with vanilla-flavored whipped cream.

During breaks on the filming location, Anne would occasionally tease Young Sun, who was preparing ricotta gnocchi on a baking tray, as they waited for the next take.

Anne inquired about your boyfriend, Dr. Weiner. Her sharp blonde hair sparkled under the spotlights, reminiscent of steel needles. She joked, ‘Is this Dr. Weiner? Paging Dr. Oscar Meyer Weiner.’

A camera operator added: “Once upon a time, I attended college with a woman called Mai, who is pronounced ‘my’. Her family gave her that name, and her surname was Johnson, making her Mai Johnson. As she’s now married, she no longer goes by Johnson.

Young walked off the set toward the prep kitchen in the rear of the studio.

In the control room situated upstairs, the producer and director disregarded the chatter and scrutinized a replay of Anne’s recently filmed segment where she prepared gnocchi. Was her preparation as flawless as it could be or did it require another take? Had the main actress used all the correct ingredients in the right sequence? Did Anne trip over any words during the process? Did the cameras manage to capture Anne dusting the baking sheets and squeezing out excess liquid from the spinach?

Anne summoned her hairstylist, Alberto Machuca. He dashed towards the camera setup, holding a spray can in one hand and a plastic comb in the other.

“Alberto. Is there a hole right there?” Anne pointed to a spot at the back right of her head.

In Anne’s mane, a “gap” or an interruption occurred within the uniform arrangement of spikes, giving the appearance that her head was shaped like a medieval mace. Alberto then sprayed and styled one of the spikes to restore its original position.

To one side of the stage, there was a compact preparation kitchen where the sous chef worked alongside Anne. In the event that something caught fire and required replacement, they were ready.

To one side of the camera frame, there was Rani Cheema, a graphic designer, diligently crafting new labels for commercial products that Anne utilized. At that moment, Rani was busy designing a label for a white wine that Anne would require in an upcoming episode. She creatively titled it Fabella and designed a vibrant golden yellow and black label for it.

Wendy Waxman, the mastermind behind set design, skillfully crafted Anne Burrell’s kitchen, revealing insights into the chef’s unique personality. This space showcased a blend of the eccentric, contemporary, and nostalgic elements – mellow-toned vases, a copper-hued bowl, and vibrant stacks of tiles. Beyond Anne’s kitchen backdrop, a spacious door opened to another room. Occasionally, the cameras would catch a peek at a 1950s-style wooden dining table, reminiscent of what Anne may have had growing up in upstate New York. While Anne’s home was not traditionally decorated in this manner, it was charming to imagine it that way.

Forty feet away from the false upstate kitchen, there was a cornucopia of snack foods. Anne picked up three Crème de Pirouline sticks (crispy wafer rolls filled with waxy hazelnut cream) and quickly consumed them as she returned to the set in vibrant rainbow flip-flops.

High above in the control room, Producer Shelley Hoffmann, Director Mike Schear, and their team of eight colleagues, all connected by headsets, closely watched Anne’s performance. Their main worry revolved around the baking of the shortcake during segment two.

Hey Mike, I’ve got a feeling she’s taking a day off, you know? She’s been repeatedly referring to that pastry as shortbread, but it’s clearly shortcake. I think she might need a refresher on the difference.

As a devoted admirer, I pondered over the prospect of re-filming the scene we had worked on together. I scoured for an ideal location to insert a correction, but alas, I found none that seemed suitable. Ultimately, I concluded that we would need to restart from scratch.

During segment three, the team was adding fresh ingredients while ensuring the scene transitioned smoothly from the end of segment two. A still image of the set at the start of segment two was displayed on a monitor in the control room for Mike and Shelley to compare with the live shot and guide the floor crew on where to position items like baking powder and butter. “Position the cream to the left of the Cuisinart, but closer to the sink,” Mike instructed. After five hours, as Shelley was about to wrap up work for the day, Anne noticed they had forgotten the anchovies in the Caesar salad dressing, necessitating a significant set reset. “We’ll do a fridge walk to get the anchovies,” Shelley announced. “They can’t magically appear on the counter.

In a contemporary cooking program, the process of procuring ingredients is crucial and requires careful attention. A stroll to the refrigerator can consume valuable time, approximately 30 seconds during the six to nine minutes of actual showtime between commercials. These seconds are more effectively utilized in demonstrating cooking techniques for viewers rather than reiterating a routine action like walking to the fridge, which is already familiar to everyone.

It wouldn’t make sense for anchovies to appear in the dressing later on if they weren’t present initially. Therefore, the trip to the fridge seemed like the most logical option.

On the movie set, Anne remarked: “We can make a Caesar salad without Parmesan, but it won’t be the same without anchovies.

In a conversation audible only in the control room, the food manufacturer mused aloud, “How fitting is that comment.

Later on, while Anne’s prepared gnocchi floated to the top in the simmering pot, she swiftly scooped them out using a slotted spoon. With her restaurant intuition kicking in, she prevented the cameras from capturing an image of the pasta floating and ready. Before anyone could respond, Anne placed the gnocchi on a plate with tomato sauce, sprinkled Parmesan shavings over it, and concluded with her catchphrase: “Gnocchi-dokey!” while standing before her hot pasta dish, smiling.

As a gamer, I found myself in a tight spot when the cameras required that critical shot of the floaters. To make things even more challenging, Anne managed to beat the clock by a mere 30 seconds.

While detailing everything to Anne via her ear piece, the control room team observed her face closely on the screen, as beads of perspiration collected in the grooves above her furrowed brows, a testament to her rising anger.

As they spoke into Anne’s earpiece, the control room team watched her on the monitor, noticing droplets of sweat forming in the lines between her furrowed eyebrows, signifying her growing frustration.

In a hidden corner of the stage, a young person retrieved a steaming pot of clean water and a neatly arranged tray filled with uncooked gnocchi. Meanwhile, the main character stood still, their temples throbbing, focusing intently on an empty space on the floor.

With Anne’s clear display of anger and exasperation, Leigh Rivers, who was responsible for typing words into the teleprompter, addressed the entire control room, “How might JCC handle this situation?

One morning, Juan-Carlos Cruz, a previous star from the show “Calorie Commando” – “Enjoy the taste while reducing your waist!” – which aired for 39 episodes before its cancellation in 2006, found himself facing charges for hiring homeless men in Los Angeles to murder his wife. According to reports, Cruz provided two homeless men with half of ten $100 bills each and instructed them to slit his wife’s throat using box cutters. The homeless men informed the police, leading to Cruz’s arrest at a dog park in Los Angeles. He eventually admitted no guilt to a charge of soliciting murder and was sentenced to nine years in prison.

Anne missed the initial comment. However, when the fourth segment was re-filmed, she was all set. She skillfully captured the gnocchi as they floated in the water and artfully arranged them on a plate with tomato sauce using a ladle. After that, she neatly sliced one with a spoon and promptly sampled it – a hot, thick piece of pasta fresh from boiling water.

“Hot, hot,” Mike warned Anne in her earpiece.

Anne seemed to have tough-as-nails taste buds. After gulping it down, she exclaimed, “It’s creamy and delightful!” She also noted that the cheese and tomato pair exceptionally well together.

Or:

It appeared as though Anne had indestructible taste buds. Upon consuming it swiftly, she commented, “That’s rich and tasty!” She further remarked that the cheese and tomato complement each other beautifully.

“Are we still in Happytown?” Shelley asked Anne into her earpiece at 1:48 p.m.

“I live in Happytown, USA,” Anne replied.

At 1:49, “Moving on” was called out, and “Lunch!”

Based on the book “From Scratch: A Look Behind the Scenes at the Food Network,” originally published in 2013 by G.P. Putnam’s Sons, with copyright owned by Allen Salkin.

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2025-06-18 22:55