This ‘The Bear’-esque dining experience puts you in kitchen chaos

Most fine-dining experiences want to remove the chaos, aiming to create a seamlessly elegant night out. “Family Meal,” however, wants to lay it on.

We had been told we are here to attend a retirement party of sorts, one final meal from an acclaimed chef before he hands over his 26-year-old restaurant. What unfolds is a battle among his children for sole ownership, the night descending into, in the words of one of the siblings, “a culinary pissing match.” Curse words are thrown. Recipes are slandered. A father will regularly dismiss, talk down to or belittle his offspring.

The fictional chef-patriarch of the house, Shelley Landwald, commands that each of his children prepares a signature dish for us, the guests, one that declares, “This is who I am. This is the future.” My table of strangers look at each other apprehensively, now that it’s clear this night will not be a calm, fully seated one.

Chef Ben Barron (right), the real chef behind “Family Meal,” passes out appetizers to guest attending the experience.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“Family Meal” is a modern updating of the old-fashioned idea of dinner and a show, only this dinner theater presentation isn’t simply about being wined, dined and passively entertained. A production from immersive theater company the Speakeasy Society in partnership with chef Ben Baron’s Order/Fire Productions, the show hopes to attract those weaned on the likes of Anthony Bourdain’s “Kitchen Confidential,” “The Bear” and other high-energy, behind-the-scene looks at the restaurant business.

The night begins in a dignified manner. A check-in at a fancy residence, and then a brief reception with other guests. Some ponder wine pairings. Others attempt to seek out information about the six-course mystery dinner. It’s been too long since I’ve visited, I’m told, and I make up excuses for my absence.

Matthew Schaler, right, and chef Ben Barron, left, are two of the real cooks at “Family Meal.” Guests can watch them in action.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“Family Meal” offers attendees an upscale, six-course meal amid an interactive theater show.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

But soon we are racing from our seats to the kitchen and back, pondering not only ingredients but family gossip. “We are here tonight because of food,” Landwald, played by Neill Fleming, tells us. “And me.”

Such an ego can only mean disorder and disarray will follow, and “Family Meal” delivers. But it does so with a high-end, unexpected meal. The resulting evening will take equal reference from “King Lear” and food-driven reality shows. It’s tense, but slicing through the stress is the fact that we are here to play, to interact and to participate.

“We had to straddle the line between the brashness and sometimes crude nature of kitchen culture,” says Matthew Bamberg-Johnson, the co-artistic director of Speakeasy Society with Genevieve Gearhart.

“While we wanted to pull back the curtain on that slightly, we didn’t want to be fully assaulting guests with that while they are enjoying their lovely food. There are parts that are tense. There are parts that uncomfortable. That is by design,” Bamberg-Johnson says.

The characters of Shelley Landwald (Neill Fleming) and Jozef Landwald (Chris Mollica) in a tense scene at “Family Meal,” which explores restaurant and household dysfunction.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

A look at the dining room setup for “Family Meal,” an interactive theater show that explores the stress of a life working in food.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“Family Meal” succeeds in walking that delicate line throughout its three-hour experience, ultimately prompting us to more closely consider the character of our food. We may be given, perhaps, a delectable course of greens — mixed lettuce, with roasted pumpkin, fried garlic and a hint of sourness courtesy of blood oranges — only to then witness a sibling squabble erupt over its preparation and validity. A salad? Mocked as pedestrian.

We may be tapped on the shoulder and pulled into the kitchen during the meal, suddenly thrown into a fiery debate over an ingredient or tasked with doing some minor — emphasis on minor — kitchen work. We’re not here, after all, to organize salad ingredients or taste a sauce, even though we suddenly may find ourselves cheering a green peppercorn dressing with preserved lime. We’re here to discover the secrets of a dysfunctional family, led by a chef who has more than a few he’s been hiding. There are multiple narrative strands that will come together in the show’s final act, but guests won’t be able to witness all of them.

“I think it’s an important juxtaposition — here’s a beautiful dish in front of you — and now you’re getting a peek at what the cost is behind the scenes to make this beauty that you get to consume,” Gearhart says.

Duck is served as the fifth course at “Family Meal.” The dish figures heavily into the narrative of the performance, as each course is designed to reflect a character or personality in the story.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

That cost is largely informed by real-life chef Baron, who designed the show’s menu and whose résumé includes stints at Petit Trois, Bestia and Roberta’s, among others. Today, Baron is primarily a private chef and restaurant consultant, but the idea for “Family Meal” was his. After visiting New York and taking in the now-shuttered immersive theater show “Life & Trust,” which was the latest from Emursive, producers of Punchdrunk’s long-running “Sleep No More,” Baron says he was smitten with theater in which guests get a taste of choosing their own adventure.

The Speakeasy Society and Order/Fire Productions is presenting “Family Meal.” The show is expensive to produce, and the team used crowdfunding to help cover production costs.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“I remember being in the set and being like, ‘This is so cool that I can have my own experience inside this Faustian experience,’” Baron says of “Life & Trust.” “How can I do this in a restaurant?”

In March, he was connected with Speakeasy, which, in addition to its local immersive theater work, has also collaborated with the likes of experiential art collective Meow Wolf. “Family Meal,” then, came together relatively quickly. Baron pulled recipes and experiences from his own background. Dishes, for instance, such as fry bread with black garlic and goat cheese, reference his Hungarian heritage, while the drama explores the dichotomy — the unseen “battles,” in Baron’s words — between the restaurant’s front of house and its back. Only in “Family Meal” sometimes they spill over.

But beyond the cursing and the passive-aggressiveness, there are also parts that are relatable — or maybe those are indeed the parts that are relatable. “I’ve heard from a lot of people saying, ‘Wow, this was Tuesday at my house,’” Bamberg-Johnson says.

For Speakeasy, the challenge was pacing. “Family Meal” is first and foremost a show, but Baron pushed for time to let guests enjoy their food in silence, allowing them to chat among themselves or meet fellow participants.

“That was so important to Ben, that people have time to talk about their day, talk about each other and catch up,” Gearhart says.

My favorite moments were the ways in which the show asks us to ponder the dishes, which “Family Meal” attempts to align with the personalities of the characters making them. The aforementioned fry bread, for instance, is an almost dessert-like doughnut that arrives between the salad and main duck course. It elicits a strong reaction of distaste from the production’s fictional chef.

“That’s some of the commentary on the industry,” Baron says. “There’s different rules for different chefs. Sometimes there are reasons and they’re right. Sometimes it just doesn’t align with their vision for food.”

It’s also a moment pulled from Baron’s real life. “That’s a very real experience where I’ve had dishes that I know are really interesting — or sometimes they’re not — and a chef will actually be upset that you’ve tried something new. It’s up to the guest. Some people have told me that’s their favorite thing. Some people have told me they just don’t like goat cheese.”

The characters of Anna Landwald (Claire Chapelli) and Shelley Landwald (Neill Fleming) surrounded by the audience in “Family Meal.” The show is interactive, and encourages guests to lean in and participate.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

A croquette served as the second course at “Family Meal.” Each course is designed to tell a mini story.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“Family Meal” is not an easy experience to produce. Speakeasy helped fund it via a crowdfunding site, raising close to $21,000 for production costs. And while ticket prices for shows on the local immersive scene have been steadily rising, Speakeasy and Baron are charging a premium price for “Family Meal.” Tickets start at $340 per person, and the team knows some may bristle at the cost.

“If you go out to a nice dinner, and buy a ticket to the Pantages, you’re spending this much, if not more, for an experience that is not nearly as intimate or giving you the opportunity to become part of the story itself,” Bamberg-Johnson says, noting that even with this ticket price, they had to seek out crowdfunding due to the costs of production.

If all goes well, “Family Meal” will become a regular show on the local scene. Speakeasy is already looking at options to bring it Palm Springs or elsewhere, and is thinking of seasonal menus in the hopes that audiences may come back a second time. Gearhart theorizes there’s enough content for at least three distinct viewings of the production, depending on what actors the audience chooses to follow.

But one step at a time.

“People have been burned by high-ticket experiences with food incorporated in the past, in which it has maybe not been an equal character in the show,” Bamberg-Johnson says. “So this is a risk.”

The bet, however, is that the bedlam that happens in a kitchen makes for high, irresistible drama.

The character of Shelley Landwald (Neill Fleming) is at the center of the drama in “Family Meal.”

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)