For years, MAD , a Copenhagen nonprofit that runs education programs for hospitality professionals, was inseparable from René Redzepi, the influential chef who founded it in 2011. This summer, the organization began the difficult process of defining what it stands for without him.

In March, a New York Times investigation described allegations from 35 former Noma employees who say Redzepi had subjected workers to physical and psychological abuse, primarily between 2009 and 2017. Redzepi says he did not recognize every detail but acknowledged that his actions had harmed employees and apologized.

Days later, amid protests and the departure of sponsors from Noma’s $1,500-a-person Los Angeles residency, Redzepi stepped away from the restaurant’s daily operations and resigned from MAD’s board. Noma reopened in Copenhagen in August under a new head chef, with Redzepi retaining a more limited creative role, according to Reuters .

MAD Rebuilds After René Redzepi’s Departure

The fallout created an existential challenge for MAD , an organization whose stated mission includes helping hospitality entrepreneurs create more sustainable, equitable and humane workplaces.

Melina Shannon-DiPietro, MAD’s executive director, says corporate partners quickly withdrew following the reporting. Within 10 business days, the organization lost approximately 65% of its annual operating budget.

MAD laid off staff members and canceled planned programming in Los Angeles. But one corporate supporter, Yeti , remained, as did hundreds of individual donors, including servers, line cooks and hospitality professionals whose relatively small contributions carried particular significance.

“We didn’t hit pause,” Shannon-DiPietro says. “I would say we hit reset.”

That reset could determine whether MAD can evolve from an organization established by one of the world’s most celebrated chefs into an independent institution capable of confronting the culture that has been widely practiced in the industry.

Shannon-DiPietro describes MAD’s origins as deliberately open-ended. “When MAD was started, it wasn’t part of a master plan. It was an experiment,” she says. Its aim was to create a space where chefs, farmers, policymakers, food scientists and others shaping how the world eats could examine food culture, the systems behind it and their shared responsibilities. So, they started convening annually to bring together pioneers in the industry to talk about the issues of the hour.

This fall, despite the setbacks, MAD will continue with that educational programming. Shannon-DiPietro says MAD expects about 450 hospitality professionals to participate in its programs over four weeks, the vast majority of them second-year culinary students from across Denmark. MAD Camp, scheduled for September 16 in Odense, will center on “Restaurant 2046,” asking how students can build sustainable careers, why the industry is worth investing in and how chefs can become agents of change.

Separately, MAD has refreshed its Academy programming in response to feedback from its industry community. This year’s three programs focus on Leadership & People, Environment & Sustainability, and Business & Profitability.

These programs will bring together restaurant owners, managers and experienced hospitality workers. Faculty will include Douglas McMaster , whose London restaurant Silo is built around a zero-waste model, and Portia Hart , a Colombian hotelier focused on regenerative tourism and locally rooted supply chains.

Restaurant Retention Becomes a Business Issue

The curriculum reflects the pressures facing independent restaurants. Asked to identify the industry’s greatest threats, Shannon-DiPietro points to two: labor and increasing unpredictability.

“How do we keep them engaged? And how do we help them build the potential of this field?” In the United States, she adds, those questions are inseparable from immigration and whether employees feel safe coming to work.

For restaurants, she says, fair wages are the foundation, but workplace culture matters too. “You have to think about how you build a culture that helps them feel safe, supports their development and supports the restaurant,” she says. “A happy team brings joy to themselves, but also to the customers they work with.”

Workplace Culture as a Business Strategy

Erin Wade, founder of the Oakland restaurant Homeroom , shared at MAD her restaurant’s “collective success” model. Every major decision is evaluated by how it affects employees, customers and the surrounding community, rather than one group alone. Homeroom operates as an open book company: it shares its financial information, teaches basic financial literacy and pays employees across roles to attend weekly meetings where they review business and workplace metrics and propose improvements. Wade says the restaurant’s employee retention was 10 times the industry average.

“Great culture needs to be protected,” she says. “It feels good, it feels meaningful to be a part of something that is bigger than yourself.”

Those workplace questions are increasingly economic ones. The James Beard Foundation’s 2026 Independent Restaurant Industry Report found that staffing shortages had declined by 13 percent from 2024, yet 49 percent of independent operators still reported some level of inadequate staffing, with retention, costs and regulatory complexity remaining central concerns. The report also found that restaurants raising menu prices by more than 10 percent were the most likely to expect lower profits, leaving operators with fewer straightforward ways to absorb rising expenses.

Extreme weather, fueled by a changing climate, represents another form of business uncertainty. The James Beard Foundation’s 2025 industry report cites hurricanes, extreme summer heat and wildfires as sources of property damage, declining foot traffic and supply-chain disruption.

Those immediate risks are distinct from the longer-term environmental practices MAD promotes to help make restaurants more sustainable (precisely for this very reason to have a lighter footprint). Shannon-DiPietro points to McMaster’s Silo, where a zero-waste system helps offset higher labor costs through lower ingredient costs. She also cites Australian chef Josh Niland, whose whole fish approach helped make his restaurant more financially resilient.

“There’s not a playbook for the challenges we’re up against,” she says, which makes practical examples and exchanges between operators more valuable.

Shannon-DiPietro wants MAD to document more of those models through “MAD Methods,” a proposed series of case studies focused on geographically diverse restaurants. “What are the practices and the principles you can take from those restaurants and apply to your own?” she asks.

MAD also intends to broaden its governance. Redzepi is no longer on the board, and Shannon-DiPietro says the organization plans to convene advisers who reflect the diversity of its participants, alongside labor and environmental experts. She also wants to establish a youth advisory council. “The creativity among 16 year olds and college students is unparalleled,” she says. “We want that at MAD.”

For Shannon-DiPietro, changing kitchen culture begins with recognizing that management is learned. “Leadership is a skill,” she says. Effective leaders, she argues, pay attention to how their actions affect their teams, seek help and invest in education to change their practices. “That doesn’t always come immediately, and it needs practice and refinement.”

She traces her own commitment to the issue to her younger brother’s experience working for an abusive restaurant owner. “When something’s been culturally common, we all need new skills and education to do something different,” she says.

MAD creates its programs primarily for independent restaurants and small restaurant groups. Shannon-DiPietro describes them as “labs of creativity” capable of developing new approaches to food waste and employee care. MAD’s role, she says, is to help those solutions travel from one business to another.

The particulars will certainly vary across countries, given that MAD is a global community. Recycling infrastructure, labor law and public support differ sharply, even when questions about caring for workers, communities and the planet are widely shared. Shannon-DiPietro describes the result as a “mycelium network,” with local leaders and advocates testing solutions in their own regions and sharing what they learn.

Her measure of MAD’s next chapter is ultimately whether its programs can restore people’s commitment to the field. “I want every program we create to help people fall in love with hospitality,” she says, whether they are entering the industry or trying to fall back in love with it. “I want it to help them build workplaces with dignity and purpose.”

After the upheaval of this year, she says MAD should be “just as ambitious for the future as we have been in the past, and if anything, more demanding about the types of change and the momentum of change for our industry as a whole.”