Published: 14 January 2026. The English Chronicle Desk. The English Chronicle Online
There is something for everyone in Being Gordon Ramsay (Netflix), a surprisingly enjoyable new series. It offers an insight into the hospitality business, a psychological study of a man driven to launch yet more restaurants despite already having 95 of them, and the chance to follow Ramsay’s latest project through various Grand Designs-style calamities. And if you’re interested in the soap opera involving the in-laws, there’s a flicker of that too. While it is nakedly an advert for his newest venture, this six-parter feels less fake than similar offerings from his good friends, the Beckhams.
Ramsay is executive producer – the show is made by his production company, Studio Ramsay – and the director lobs him such challenging questions as, “Can you tell me about the love you have for your children?” This is PR. He does the things you’d expect: swears to an absurd degree, tells staff who have sweated over presenting him with the perfect canapé that “it looks like s— on a plate”. Yet the benefit of crafting a public image as the world’s most aggressively rude chef is that Ramsay comes across as more likeable when we see him behind closed doors.
At home he is soft-hearted, a devoted father of six – ranging in age from 27 to 18 months – and husband to Tana, with plenty of fly-on-the-wall footage of their life together. She features heavily in the series and comes across as a lovely person, although every now and then, as she perches on a sofa to deliver her piece to camera, you catch an uncanny echo of Victoria Beckham in her mannered sincerity.
These shows always ladle on the jeopardy, so here we spend a year following what Ramsay calls “the most difficult, highly pressurised, ambitious project I’ve ever, ever opened in my entire life”: five businesses spread across the top two floors of a skyscraper in the City of London. The tower at 22 Bishopsgate is “an iconic address”, Ramsay tells us (it isn’t), and will house a branch of his Bread Street Kitchen chain, an outpost of his “Asian-inspired dining concept” Lucky Cat, a private dining experience called Gordon Ramsay High, a rooftop garden with a retractable roof, and a culinary academy, all spread over 27,000 sq ft.
This is costing £20m, which Ramsay tells us he is funding personally, with help from the bank. At the same time, he is flying around the world to maintain his global brand, whether through an F1 dining concept with tickets priced at £35,000 a head, or a launch in the Philippines where he is mobbed by adoring trainee chefs. Perhaps because he spreads himself so thinly, a new Ramsay opening no longer has food critics pushing at the door; instead, he invites a clutch of social media influencers to a launch party while the venue is still a building site, knowing they will be so thrilled to get the call that they post fawning coverage on TikTok and Instagram.
Ramsay speaks candidly about his upbringing: he grew up on a council estate with a mother who worked three jobs, and still remembers the stinging shame of having free school meals. “There’s always that little needle of fear that I’m going to lose it,” he says of his financial success. These days, he lives in a world of luxury, flying by private jet and arriving at his second home in Cornwall by helicopter.
Readers attuned to showbiz gossip will know that Ramsay’s daughter Holly wed former Olympic champion Adam Peaty in December, only for Peaty’s parents and other family members to be excluded from the wedding. Peaty appears here wearing a permanent expression of awe at becoming part of the Ramsay clan.
The series ends before the wedding, but cameras capture the engagement party, held at a Gordon Ramsay restaurant and bankrolled by Ramsay largesse, at which Peaty makes a speech that – in this edit at least – pays tribute to Ramsay while making no mention of his own parents. However well-meant the Ramsays may be, it is easy to see why Peaty’s family feel pushed out. His mother is glimpsed in a couple of shots but is not invited to speak on camera.
The swearing soon grows tiring. When Ramsay is not exclaiming “F— me” at everything that comes his way, he is talking about the “f—ing cool” vibe of his restaurants, crashing the “f—ing car” (for a man with expensive taste in vehicles, he is not very good at driving) and telling his new son-in-law: “Welcome to the f—ing family.”
The focus on Ramsay is leavened by a sprinkling of other characters, including the site manager Terry and Lucky Cat’s executive head chef Matthew (Ramsay does not do the cooking himself these days). The project is over budget and behind schedule; carpets are laid in the wrong place and the weather ruins plans for the retractable roof. You can almost picture Kevin McCloud nodding along.
The soft launch of 22 Bishopsgate makes for a terrific episode, as stressful as the fictional Boiling Point, not helped by Ramsay steaming around the dining room telling everyone how hopeless they are. Gordon Ramsay High has since been awarded a Michelin star, but Ramsay admits the whole venture will need to sustain its popularity over the full 20-year lease to be a financial success. Better keep those influencers on side.

























































































