I cook for people in their homes across L.A. I’ve done big parties, tiny dinners, and a lot of meal prep. Was it glam? Sometimes. Was it hard? Oh yes. But you know what? I keep saying yes, because I love the work. If you’re curious about the bigger picture, here’s my honest take on private chef jobs in Los Angeles that breaks down the hustle in even more detail.
Let me explain.
My first Malibu dinner (and the wind that stole my napkins)
My first gig here was an 8-person birthday in a Malibu beach house. I charged $110 per person and did three courses. We kept it bright and clean:
- Starter: citrus salad with fennel and avocado
- Main: seared halibut, herb rice, charred broccolini
- Dessert: lemon olive oil cake with berries
The view was wild. The wind was wilder. It blew the cloth napkins straight into the pool. I laughed, then switched to paper. Problem solved. I cooked on a small stove and brought one portable burner just in case. We ate on time. The birthday girl cried happy tears. I sat in my car after and felt ten feet tall. Moments like that reminded me of the joy I felt when I got married at The Ruby Street in Los Angeles—different event, same happy tears.
The West Hollywood vegan tasting that made me rethink tofu
A week later, I did a 6-course vegan menu in West Hollywood. Gluten-free too. I found great produce at the Santa Monica Farmers Market. That market on Wednesday morning? Gold.
I charged $150 per person. The hit dish was a miso-maple roasted carrot with a pistachio-dill crumb. Simple. Sweet. Bright. I prepped half at home, then finished on site. We plated on cute, mismatched plates the client had from a thrift store. It felt artsy and fun. Not fancy. But still sharp.
Meal prep in Silver Lake: the “new mom” routine
Three months after that, I set up a meal prep plan for a new mom in Silver Lake. Three days a week. Three hours per visit. $45 an hour plus groceries. I made soft, simple food she could heat with one hand:
- Turkey meatballs with marinara
- Veggie fried rice with extra peas
- Lentil soup with lemon
- Banana oat muffins
Parking was tight. I learned to come early and bring my own containers. Cambros are my friend. So are painter’s tape and a Sharpie. Label, date, stack. Done.
The Encino wrap party (and the NDA I almost forgot)
One time, an agency booked me for a TV show wrap party in Encino. About 40 people. Buffet style. I took a $700 day rate, plus $200 for my assistant. Rentals were extra. The agency took 15%. The kitchen was big, but the oven ran cold. I used my immersion circulator to save the steak. I also signed an NDA. I almost forgot it in my car. That would’ve been bad.
We served carne asada, a big vegan grain salad, and churros with chocolate. The showrunner hugged me at midnight. I drove home on the 101 with oil in my hair and a grin.
Where I actually find jobs
People ask this a lot. Here’s what works for me:
- Cozymeal: good for small dinners; they take a cut
- Thumbtack and GigSalad: better for one-offs; lots of messages
- Instagram DMs: real bookings come from real photos
- A concierge in Beverly Hills: yes, that’s a thing
- Word of mouth: the best, always
I carry $1M liability insurance through FLIP. I also keep a current food handler card (ServSafe). Some clients ask. Some don’t. I just keep it all ready in a folder.
For an insider’s look at the city’s pop-up dinners, new farmers-market finds, and chef gigs that open up overnight, I keep an eye on To Live and Eat in L.A..
Money talk (the part folks skip)
These are my real ranges in L.A. this past year:
- Private dinner, 2–10 guests: $95–$165 per person, food included
- Meal prep: $40–$60 per hour, plus groceries
- Larger events, 20–60 guests: flat $600–$1,200 per day, plus staff and rentals
I take a 50% deposit to hold the date. I pass along a 3% fee if they pay by card. If groceries push over, I send the receipts. Some clients love a neat invoice. Some want Venmo and a smile. I try to keep both neat and kind.
Do people tip? Often, yes. Not always. I don’t expect it. I price so I’m okay either way.
Curious how your own numbers compare? Have a look at this overview of private chef salaries in Los Angeles for detailed compensation data, and consult this comprehensive guide on hiring costs to understand wages, taxes, and other considerations that affect your final take-home pay.
My go-bag: what I bring so I don’t panic
Kitchens in L.A. are all over the place. I’ve cooked on Viking ranges and on tiny hot plates. So I bring my own basics:
- Knife roll, peeler, tongs, fish spatula
- Instant-read thermometer
- Two sheet pans, two cutting boards
- One portable induction burner
- Immersion circulator for tricky proteins
- Disposable gloves, trash bags, foil, wrap
- Cambros, squeeze bottles, and a roll of painter’s tape
Where I shop? It depends. Whole Foods for quick runs. Trader Joe’s for snacks and flowers. Erewhon when a client wants “that vibe.” Surfas in Culver City for tools. Smart & Final for bulk. Restaurant Depot for meat and produce when I need volume. When I’m in Palms and need bouquets that won’t wilt in the back seat, I swing by a few of the florists in Palms, Los Angeles who never let me down.
The not-so-glam bits nobody shows
Traffic. Parking. HOA rules. Tiny sinks. Ovens that lie. Dogs who think garlic is a toy. Last-minute “Oh, Aunt May is keto now.” It’s a lot.
By the way, the gig-life hours can be strange: you might wrap service at midnight and have Tuesday morning totally free. When your calendar looks like that, lining up dates through a mainstream app can feel impossible. I’ve had friends in the industry swear by PlanCul, a no-strings dating platform tuned for people with unpredictable schedules; they say it lets them meet open-minded locals without the back-and-forth that eats into precious prep time. And if you ever find yourself in Alton on a rare night off, you could trade chef whites for a name badge at a relaxed speed-dating night in town where you’ll meet a dozen like-minded singles face-to-face in under two hours—no endless swiping or scheduling drama required.
I keep a checklist on my phone. I ask about:
- Parking and gate codes
- Oven size and working burners
- Allergies and strong dislikes
- Plates, glassware, and a table that fits the group
- Pets (I love them, but hair is real)
I arrive 15–30 minutes early. I pad time for the 405, because the 405 loves chaos.
Safety stuff that keeps me calm
I use a cooler with ice packs for proteins. I keep hot food above 140°F and cold food below 40°F. I sanitize as I go. I pack a tiny first aid kit. I also bring a spare apron, because stains happen fast.
It all sounds fussy. It isn’t. It’s how I relax.
Who should try private chef work here?
If you like people, lists, and heat, you’ll fit. If you hate changes, it may sting. L.A. clients can be very clear or very vague. Sometimes both in one text. That’s okay. Ask kind questions. Confirm by message. Send a short menu and a simple timeline. It saves your day.
A quick checklist for your first L.A. gig
- Get a deposit and a menu sign-off
- Confirm address, parking, and headcount the day before
- Shop early; keep proteins cold
- Pack your go-bag and labels
- Arrive early; breathe; wipe as you go
- Plate hot food hot, cold food cold
- Leave the kitchen cleaner than you found it
- Send a thank-you note with two photos (no faces unless cleared)
So… is it worth it?
For me, yes. The work is real. The joy is real too. I still get nervous before every event. I still get quiet during service. And I still feel that little spark when someone takes a bite