Oh yes. I am a total secret ratter too. I used to work as a griddle chef for the post office. I wasn’t very good and burnt a lot of food but luckily the woman at the cash desk helped me cook! Meanwhile I was grabbing food left, right and center.
Enjoyed this so much. I had no idea this had (such a cute) name. From the barely touched filet left on the plate of some snooty lady on a steakhouse date to the melted, mostly full margaritas we'd guzzle in the back kitchen of a burrito shop I worked at in my late teens, nearly every word resonates deeply. Oh how I miss a gas stove for the charred bits you mentioned. This ratter once ate a chunk of broken coffee mug off the counter because I have the nasty habit of gleaning loose salt crystals that scatter as I cook. I love a little crunch. Thanks!!
I am not only an unrestrained ratter but the child of ratters. While doing chem lab at university it took massive self-control to not dab up random bits of crud on the lab benches (none of which were remotely food) with my fingertip and pop them in my mouth. It’s even a motivator to clean the stovetop and discover little treasures under the grates.
Brilliant read, plates of leftovers in restaurants also fill me with intense yearning that I only overcome with social conditioning... maybe I should give in
This was fantastic reading. While my teenage misery/summer holiday 'job' scrubbing scrambled eggs out of saucepans at my stepmum's cafe never led me to ratting, this has brought back memories of witnessing domestic ratting in my step-grandmother's kitchen, watching with fascination as she deftly stripped the Sunday roast's carcass to make into chicken and ham pie, but slipped the choicest bits from the underside of the chicken directly into her mouth. This was clearly a secret pleasure, and one I had never encountered in my home but has become a habit of my own as an adult directly because of seeing her do it. I love the name for it!
The only time I’ve worked in a restaurant was a pub in London, and we ate _everything_. Oh you dropped a microwaved frozen lasagne on the kitchen floor whose cleanliness I’m very aware of because I’m the one who mops it badly every day? Yep I’ll eat that. 25 years ago this was, and I’m still a ratter, though mostly in my own home these days 🙂
Delightful. This piece is so good. it made me smile, salivate, and also throw up a little into my mouth. A perfect combination of reactions for 2026!
Visceral read. Love the idea of « ratting » as resistance against restaurant waste and exploitation🐀✊
Oh yes. I am a total secret ratter too. I used to work as a griddle chef for the post office. I wasn’t very good and burnt a lot of food but luckily the woman at the cash desk helped me cook! Meanwhile I was grabbing food left, right and center.
Enjoyed this so much. I had no idea this had (such a cute) name. From the barely touched filet left on the plate of some snooty lady on a steakhouse date to the melted, mostly full margaritas we'd guzzle in the back kitchen of a burrito shop I worked at in my late teens, nearly every word resonates deeply. Oh how I miss a gas stove for the charred bits you mentioned. This ratter once ate a chunk of broken coffee mug off the counter because I have the nasty habit of gleaning loose salt crystals that scatter as I cook. I love a little crunch. Thanks!!
I am not only an unrestrained ratter but the child of ratters. While doing chem lab at university it took massive self-control to not dab up random bits of crud on the lab benches (none of which were remotely food) with my fingertip and pop them in my mouth. It’s even a motivator to clean the stovetop and discover little treasures under the grates.
Brilliant read, plates of leftovers in restaurants also fill me with intense yearning that I only overcome with social conditioning... maybe I should give in
I had no idea there was a term for my habit of picking up food things that aren't actually mine and scoffing them! Happy to be a ratter
Former KP here and proud ratter. What a piece of writing!
What a beautiful piece of writing – and Luke you are definitely not alone!
I loved thinking “I can’t believe he wrote and published this “ several times. This is what I’m here for. Brilliant. I’m a ratter too.
This was fantastic reading. While my teenage misery/summer holiday 'job' scrubbing scrambled eggs out of saucepans at my stepmum's cafe never led me to ratting, this has brought back memories of witnessing domestic ratting in my step-grandmother's kitchen, watching with fascination as she deftly stripped the Sunday roast's carcass to make into chicken and ham pie, but slipped the choicest bits from the underside of the chicken directly into her mouth. This was clearly a secret pleasure, and one I had never encountered in my home but has become a habit of my own as an adult directly because of seeing her do it. I love the name for it!
Also, huge fan of your books, Luke!
The only time I’ve worked in a restaurant was a pub in London, and we ate _everything_. Oh you dropped a microwaved frozen lasagne on the kitchen floor whose cleanliness I’m very aware of because I’m the one who mops it badly every day? Yep I’ll eat that. 25 years ago this was, and I’m still a ratter, though mostly in my own home these days 🙂