We talked to Cory Cavin about his culinary, chaotic show Enjoy Your Meal at this year's Edinburgh Festival Fringe.
I’ve always been obsessed with people on the brink of losing it – and falling apart while also trying to smile
Cory, how are you?
I’m great! I’m in New York and it’s very hot, and I’m looking forward to being in Edinburgh with cooler temperatures. I’m also producing a movie in New York right now – called Dream Baby Dream – while prepping for Fringe, so things are very busy.
Enjoy Your Meal invites audiences into a working restaurant with real food, drink and a chef on the verge of a breakdown. How did this deliciously chaotic concept come to life?
There used to be a very small arts space in the middle of a tiny office in a truck parking lot near my apartment in New York, and they would do weird art stuff there. I was working for Bon Appétit and I would come home from shoots and pass the space, thinking it would be cool to do a comedy show where you make food for people right in front of you.
I went in there once and there were two guys in big robot costumes with glowing lights all over them playing electronic music for only four people in the audience. It was great, and I thought it would be very cool to do an up-close show for a small number of people. I’ve always been obsessed with people on the brink of losing it and falling apart while also trying to smile.
And everything falling apart is precisely what’s happening to your character, Chef Wayne Swingle, while desperately trying to serve the last best meal of his life. How much of him is you, and how much is a worst-case scenario in a chef’s hat?
Any time I’ve had people over for a big dinner, I’m always trying to do too much while trying to be a good host and act like things are chill – and also wiping sweat away with a kitchen towel. I naturally want to please people and usually hold all the stress inside while pretending everything is OK, so I suppose some of it is definitely me. The rest is imagining this guy who really does want to get his shot – and then, because of bad luck, just can’t make it happen.
This show isn’t just immersive – it’s edible. What can audiences expect to be served, and how closely is the menu tied to the emotional journey of the performance?
We’ll have light hors d’oeuvres up top, a cocktail and drinks, a Thai-inspired fusion dish, and a dessert of very high hopes – which, like many of Chef Swingle’s hopes, may descend to the lowbrow realm while still remaining tasty. The dishes, like all menus, are subject to change as things fall apart.
The menu will be ambitious and, by the end, you’re left with what Chef Swingle can offer – as he doesn’t have much left to offer himself. But by then, I hope you’ve gotten to know him enough that the food isn’t the only thing you care about.
How has your background in food media shaped the way you wrote and staged this show?
I spent a lot of time behind the camera watching chefs on set. I learned a lot from the chefs I worked with – how to present, how to talk about food, how to describe flavours. And food media is everywhere – not just on the Food Network, but on your phones and social media. There are a million recipes for iced coffee. It’s insane. But I wanted to make a show about a guy who would not be good at any of those things.
Summerhall’s Former Women’s Locker Room is already a quirky space. How are you transforming it into “The Restaurant”, and what made Summerhall the right home for your Fringe debut?
The Former Women’s Locker Room will be set up like a small, intimate tasting restaurant – like you’re coming to a chef’s table. I went to a chef’s table-style restaurant in New York years ago that had 12 seats per night. It was so cool to spend a night with a small group of people and the staff serving you – now imagine going to that, but it doesn’t go right.
There will be other immersive elements to really get you into the chef’s head – lights, sound, smoke, kitchen tools, interactive displays showing where the chef gets his ideas, video examples of his past work, and probably him spilling things.
There’s a quote that says, “Food brings people together while ruining the person making it.” Do you think that’s true of performance too? How do you hope this show feeds its audience, emotionally as well as literally?
That’s entirely true for this show. The tagline is: “The audience eats while the chef breaks down.” The show is literally bringing people together because it’s an audience, and I do think having food on the table anywhere puts people at ease. It makes people relax and focus in.
I hope they see a chef with hopes and dreams trying his best, putting on a performance in front of them as it falls apart – largely due to him and his mistakes.
And for those who ask, “Please sir, may I have some more?” – you make an appearance later in the evening.
Yes! I’m also doing the show Great Times at Fringe with Kevin James Doyle, a nightly line-up show right after this one. So I’m excited to perform twice nightly. It’s all going to be really fun, and I’m looking forward to it.
