Ripert’s little black book of celebrity chefs, and the mutual respect among them, has enabled the cookout to host the likes of Anthony Bourdain, Daniel Boulud, and Dominique Crenn over the past 15 years—now, it’s a coveted invite for almost any chef. That’s part of why, year after year, attendees can count on a solid lineup, said E.J. Lagasse, who has been attending with his dad Emeril for nine years, and attended as a working chef this year for the first time. “Cayman Cookout always brings together an amazing community of tight-knit chefs from around the world,” he added.
The Cayman Cookout is open to anyone, with tickets sold separately for each activity. There’s range, too, with prices climbing from $95, for a wine tasting, to over $5,000 for more exclusive excursions. This year’s festival welcomed 2,200 guests and had around 90 events, which involved everything from flying on a private jet to Jamaica with Ripert for lunch at GoldenEye (that’s the $5K ticket item), to deep-sea fishing with Emeril Lagasse, to multi-course caviar and truffle dinners. “The events range from very, very small, like 15 to 20 people, for scuba diving with José Andrés, to very large, like 500 people for the barbecue on the beach,” said Ripert.
My theory that the real prize is merely the access, and proximity, to greatness was confirmed shortly after I arrived, when I spotted Lagasse by the pool and Ripert and Andrés on the beach. Later, I casually chatted with Kish, the new host of Top Chef, before attending a tortilla and salsa demo by Enrique Olvera, of Pujol fame. By the time I caught myself watching a boisterous pétanque competition between Ripert, Andrew Zimmern, Andrés, Onwuachi, Angie Mar (of Le B. in New York City), James Kent (of Michelin-starred restaurants Crown Shy and Saga in New York City), and Lagasse and E.J., I concluded that the event is much like being at a very fancy, booze-filled summer camp with my foodie idols; people I had read about on Eater, seen on Bon Appétit and Food & Wine’s best chefs lists, and whose restaurants had served me some of the best meals of my life. Suddenly, we were clinking margaritas by the pool and feasting on barbecued short ribs on the beach together.
But beneath the star power, there’s a reason people fly to the Caribbean for this programming. I learned why, for example, Andrés’ beachfront paella demo always sells out. Instead of a staid cooking demo, he and Ripert enjoy hamming it up in front of guests. This year, Andrés came late in his bathrobe and shower cap, claiming he lost track of time, to applause from the approximately 100-person crowd who were seated in a circle, with the four massive paella pans and ample space for Andrés to bounce around in the middle. Once he took off his robe (revealing a T-shirt that read, “With a body like this…Who needs hair?”), he proceeded to regale the crowd with one-liners, meandering stories, and a Champagne vs. Cava fight with Ripert that turned the front row into a splash zone. He also chatted with guests, clearly recognizing several repeat-attendees who were familiar with his shenanigans.
Yes, they’re working, but it was easy to slip into thinking that the chefs, too, were on vacation. Suddenly, these people who were used to leading high-pressure kitchens were letting loose, shucking oysters on the beach while drinking rosé and smoking cigars (Cayman is known for high-quality cigars that rival Cubans—many of the chefs often had one hanging out of their mouths at one point or another).
Onwuachi (of Tatiana, named the best restaurant of 2023 by The New York Times), who was attending for the first time, said he was loving “getting to spend time and cook together with my friends.”
As I chatted with fellow guests at a beachfront lunch hosted by Onwuachi one afternoon, we marveled at everyone’s itineraries. One couple was going to nine events, while another attended just two, but splurged on the private jet to Jamaica with Ripert as one of them. Some had attended for years, while others like me were first-timers. One thing is sure in my mind: the catamaran excursion to Rum Point for a picnic lunch made by world-class chefs was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—well, unless I go back next year. (FYI, tickets usually go on sale in July.)
