Connecticut Chefs Open Up About Wellness, Bad Habits, Mental Health, Addiction, and the 86 Challenge

To “86” or to “eighty-six” something is a term commonly used in the hospitality industry. It’s defined, maybe best so, in the Urban Dictionary, where it’s summarized as “getting rid of something, removing it, or refusing service.” If a dish is popular for the evening, and thus, sold out, you might hear a chef say something like, “86 pasta special.”

But to “reject, discard, or cancel” or to 86, has a different meaning to Beto Ortiz in the present day.

Ortiz, who’s a cook, a storyteller, and the founder of Humans of the Kitchen (think Humans of New York for the service industry), and someone who’s open about his own struggles with mental health, substance abuse, and an overall rebellious nature, started the 86 Challenge, a wellness program for chefs and restaurant professionals.

“I started it because of my own health,” he says. “I used to drink a lot when I was younger. There was always something special about the kitchen—not just the food, which I love and respect as a craft—but the culture. I was drawn to how kitchens were spaces where everyone was welcome. That hit me deeply. I’ve always cared about equality. Yeah, there’s a brigade system and hierarchy, but there was a certain respect that flowed between everyone. That really connected with me. But beyond that, I was a problematic kid. I drank a lot, partied a lot. I had a punk band, I was kind of violent, a prankster, a rebel. And honestly, I’m proud of that. It made me think differently. But it also made the kitchen feel like the only place where that version of me was celebrated. The jokes, the hard language, the drinking after service—people pranked me, I pranked them harder. It felt like I belonged.”

That newfound identity would start to get to Ortiz. He’ll tell you flat out that he doesn’t even love alcohol that much, but it helped numb his social anxiety.

“I tried to stop,” he says. “I quit for six months once, then another time, I tried to quit again. Drinking helped me be around people, to show up to things. I got used to it. When I tried to quit, I hated it. I wasn’t happy. I isolated myself.”

Ortiz said there wasn’t a challenge or wellness program that spoke to him because there wasn’t one that “understood kitchen culture or hospitality life” and that most of the programs you see out there are “for gym bros or people already deep in recovery.”

“But what about the in-between?” he says. “What about the people who haven’t admitted to a problem, but they know that something isn’t right? Because here’s the thing—recovery programs are for when you accept you have an alcohol problem. Fitness challenges are for people already working on their bodies. But 70, maybe 80 percent of people in the kitchen aren’t in either of those rooms. So, I thought about, what can I build that speaks to us? That speaks to me?”

He did the very common Dry January and 75 Hard, but he realized it was less about your body’s appearance at the end of these, and more about “how your eyes looked, how your face felt, and how you felt inside.”

Ortiz’s realization for the 86 Challenge came in the middle of when he did 75 Hard, that if he had more time, 11 days more, he could change the rules to make it more accessible for people in the kitchen.

He reached out to his Humans of the Kitchen partner, Juan Junca, to help him bring a challenge created by industry people, for industry people.

And it’s not just about going cold turkey as it pertains to alcohol and drugs. It’s about kicking all things bad for you like burnout, but also, substance abuse, actually working out instead of not, maybe healthier eating habits, journaling, getting more sleep, and so on.

“The 86 Challenge is about full-circle wellbeing,” Ortiz says. “It’s not just sobriety. It’s not just a workout plan. It’s a new language for our industry—something that meets people where they are, and invites them to feel better without needing to hit rock bottom first. And how is it helping me? Well, I don’t feel like a stranger to myself anymore. I’ve done it twice now. I can be in a room and actually feel comfortable. I can sit with discomfort and not run from it. Most importantly, I’ve gained something I never had before—about five seconds. Five seconds between what happens and how I react.”

Although the 86 Challenge launched officially on August 6, 2025 (you can surmise why regarding the start date), you can start it whenever you deem it necessary for you. And if the full 86 days is too long or too difficult, they recommend trying 27 days or 54 days, but stressing that “the important thing is taking the first step” and that “consistency beats perfection.”

There are also nine rules:

Daily – 86 drugs, 86 alcohol, going on a digital diet, journaling, minimum 15 minutes of meditation, minimum 35 minutes of exercise, and 20 minutes of mindful eating.

Weekly – Learn something new and a weekly progress photo.

If you can’t do all nine, that’s OK, but the three nonnegotiable ones are no drugs, no alcohol, and you must work out.

Participating in the 86 Challenge, and who first clued me into it, is Carlos Perez, the executive chef of At The Corner and ATC South Street in Litchfield. When Perez stumbled upon it on Instagram, thanks to algorithm reasons, he was already in the midst of his own wake up call to change a few bad habits, to get healthier, and to give himself time away from the kitchen to avoid burnout.

Perez referenced a quote from a show he’s a huge fan of in The Bear, where Carmy, the program’s main character says, “I have to remind myself to breathe sometimes,” because of the struggles of running a restaurant (and all that comes with it), plus, dealing with anxiety, and trying to somehow stay present.

“I’m constantly doing stuff, always doing events, and I’ve been here (at At The Corner) five years and started to feel burnt out,” Perez says. “I had less patience, less time to do stuff, and felt less productive, even though I was working nonstop. I had to take a step back to look at my life. I’ve been in this industry since I was 12 and I’ve been doing the same shit every day since I was 20 or 21. We work all day; crazy hours, holidays. Even on my days off, I’m still somehow working.”

On his annual Anthony Bourdain Suicide Prevention Dinner, Perez says, “We’ve gotta get to the root of the problem, like why are people doing this? It started in 2018 when we had a wine dinner planned without a theme. When Bourdain passed away I suggested this idea. First year we raised $6-$8K. We donate 100%, and last year (2024), we raised $20K. It goes directly to the CT Chapter of AFSP and stays here for the people here in the community. At the dinner, we have auctions for dinners, experiences, hotel stays, stuff like that. The collaborating chefs usually want nothing in return for participating. It’s incredible how its grown.”

He also picked up, but has since kicked, habits like having that end of shift drink, those super late nights, and not eating right. To look at him, though, you might not know it. Perez was 5’8” and 115 pounds soaking wet.

Now that he hasn’t been drinking, took a few weeks off to rest and reflect, and incorporated a healthier routine by eating more calories and protein, lifting weights, taking vitamins, and actually sleeping, Perez has, at the time of being interviewed, put on over 20 healthy pounds of muscle.

“There’s a big difference in just a few months,” he says. “Back then, I wasn’t paying attention to myself. A lot of cooks are sweating out more calories than we can consume. You’re barely eating because you’re cooking all day, so you have no appetite sometimes. Poor diet, not working out, not getting the dopamine from not working out, then alcohol, that’s a depressant. Protein, calories, vitamins, eating cleaner, 4,000 calories a day, working out, and I’m not sleeping in late anymore. I remember my mom screaming at me telling me to take a multivitamin my entire life. You never think about it because you’re so immersed and overwhelmed with work. It’s like Groundhog Day, forgetting to take care of yourself. It feels stupid because as a chef you know what’s good for you and what’s not, you know what’s high in protein, but we don’t practice it.”

Further inspiration for Perez came from not only finding the 86 Challenge, but from connecting with its creator. Perez reached out to Ortiz, telling him how important he thinks it is for the industry, and said it has opened up his network of support with people who are all going through similar things in life.

“I’m so inspired by the challenge; it’s perfect timing for me as I’ve always wanted to get healthier, to stop drinking, and even if I still had cravings early on, I got to a point when I was completely over it and cravings stopped,” Perez says. “It’s been a complete 180 talking with Beto. Why not try to better yourself all around? None of what I’m doing in the industry matters if my body goes to shit. I want to stay strong, healthy, and make sure I can keep doing this and hopefully inspire other people to do this or to keep doing this.”

For Perez, though, this all runs much deeper.

Anyone familiar with his restaurant knows that since 2018 he and a lineup of Connecticut’s star chefs put on an annual dinner at At The Corner, that’s in name, a tribute to the late Anthony Bourdain, where 100% of the proceeds benefit the Connecticut chapter of the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

And it’s personal to him because he can relate.

“Right before Bourdain passed, I was going through my own battle while working in the industry,” Perez explains. “I was married with a son. We split up. It’s hard going through a divorce, and it was all brought on by working in the industry. I was younger, newly married, new child. I’m working late, but out the door first thing in the morning. (During the divorce) my son was with his mom. I was badly depressed. We had a condo together and I was just there by myself. I was pretty fucking close to killing myself. If it wasn’t for the guys in the kitchen or for food, for cooking, I wouldn’t have had anything at that time. They rallied around me, they took me out, helped my keep my mind off shit, and it got me through.”

Cooking at the 2025 edition of Perez’s annual Bourdain Dinner is Damon Sawyer, co-owner and chef of the successful 29 Markle Ct in Bridgeport. Sawyer, who has been open about giving up alcohol last year, says he had to give up that particular vice for himself and his goals, and for people who look up to him.

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“It’s all about how you feel,” Sawyer says. “Being a leader, you have to be of sound mind. It matters how people perceive you and how you perceive yourself. Listen, I’m not 19 anymore. If you drink a six pack when you’re younger, it might not matter, but that changes when you’re 45, when you have responsibilities and you’re in a fog, but you have to operate at a high level, only you can’t because you’ve been drinking.”

Something that hit close to home factored into Sawyer’s decision, too, as he mentioned his father, who he said was a drinker, and has to undergo dialysis at a time when he should be enjoying his life.

But for him, his decision is also about spirituality, exceling to accomplish goals, and being present.

“You can’t be the best you can be to reach the heights you want to reach if you have vices and that was the factor for me; I knew I had great potential inside of me, but it was stagnated by something I can completely control, so I took control of my own life, so I can operate at the highest level and touch people that are looking up to me directly, like the people in my kitchen and at the restaurant, and my diners that come in,” Sawyer says. “I want to present the best vibe and give the best energy that I can and not feel like I’m lethargic because I had too much alcohol the night before. I’m super spiritual, man, and the wakeup call for me was I heard, call it what you want, a voice tell me, ‘If you really want what I have planned for you, you’re gonna have to sacrifice a couple of things.’ One of those things was being under the influence of alcohol. It impacts your ears, your eyes, and mouth and causes you to talk and be out of character. Why would you want to be that way? We’re accustomed to it being normal. After a few months, I watched other people and I was like, ‘Damn! Like, that’s how I was!’ You don’t know that that’s happening. You’re not aware. It changes you.”

Much like what Perez mentioned about having end of shift drinks, Sawyer echoed the same, saying that many restaurant industry employees forget that they’re self-medicating because you’re around it so often.

“There’s always been an unwritten rule where you have a successful night, you celebrate with a drink, and if it’s a horrible night and you’ve been in the weeds, you take it out on a six pack or whatever,” Sawyer says. “You always find a reason to drink, and before you know it, it becomes a part of you, but it’s actually taking away from you.”

Since he stopped, Sawyer doesn’t see himself having a drink, at least not right now, saying how it’s done wonders for his personal relationships, his sensitivity towards others, and being more cognizant of other people and the things around him. Without the fog during or after drinking, he says he’s way more present.

“You might think you’re present, but you don’t realize that you aren’t,” he says. “Things are happening around you that you don’t notice. I like being able to see things around me clearly and adapt the way I need to at the drop of a hat if I need to because I’m more aware. That goes for whether I’m training people or having tough conversations with people. There’s a different sensitivity level and understanding and viewpoint that comes with a sober mind. I really enjoy it and I think people around me can feel the energy that comes with me being sober. All the potential we have, we have, that I have, that we have as a restaurant, and I wasn’t gonna be the one to hinder all of those things because I love wine. My personality is super all in. I can’t do anything a little bit. If I’m working, I’m fuckin’ working. If I’m drinking, I’m drinking. I have no moderation switch and that’s something I know about myself. I had to be like, ‘D, let’s take this in another direction.’ It’s even inspired people in my circle to completely stop or drink less and focus on things to them that really matter. It’s brought me so many personal successes that I can’t even explain.”

One piece of advice Sawyer would give anyone who’s got a vice, not specifically drugs or alcohol, but in general, is to first take a good look at it.

“It may not be drinking that’s your vice; maybe it’s lying, being angry, or being a fucking asshole every day,” he says. “Anything that’s preventing you from being your best self, you should take a second look at it. For me it was alcohol that was preventing me from reaching my highest highs. I made corrections so I can inspire people that look up to me, to be a leader, and not feel like I’m cheating in that position. I’m proud of who I am personally. My personal feeling towards myself was always important for me.”  

Dante Cistulli, owner of Zephyr’s Street Pizza in West Hartford can relate to his fellow chefs big time. Anxiety, panic attacks, always saying “yes” to the point of burnout, drug use, and a battle with alcoholism.

“I always tell people I was a really good drinker, but it got to the point where it was going to kill me,” Cistulli shares. “No one really knew the extent of how bad of a problem I had. My wife knew that I was a drinker, but I was really good at hiding it and using it to kind of self-medicate a lot of mental health struggles I was having anxiety and panic attacks, and I'm a leader (leading my crew in dinner services), I’m a business owner, I’m a father. I’m all these things that require me to be strong.”

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Cistulli said it got worse at a time when he kept agreeing to do “all this stuff;” radio and television appearance, a slew of both public and private culinary events, and a restaurant venture in Savoy Pizzeria that didn’t work out for him personally, resulting in him getting bought out of that partnership.

“It ended when the pandemic was just getting going, so I didn't work for 13 months and I was trying to figure out my next move, so I was just boozing,” he says. “I had a little money coming in from my buyout, plus, we owned our house, so we were good there. I just had a newborn baby, too, and I was kind of like semi-retired.”

Cistulli, now in his early 40s, said he started having mental health struggles and panic attacks sometime during his 20s and lost his dad really at a young age. Pair all of that with being in the industry, where he said shift drinks or post work drinks were a staple, and that “we’d do a beer tasting at 5 p.m. before service,” and it only made matters worse.

“I’d wake up in a state of terror with very heightened blood pressure,” he says candidly. “That whole time I was just somehow holding it together. I would sneak into the walk-in to have a glass of wine, then come back in like, ‘Alright! Let’s go!’ Spend 30 minutes on a phone call, ‘OK! Let’s get those meatballs rolling!’ What am I doing? I didn’t even know what I was doing. ‘Over here! You over here!’ like it was no problem. I was a soldier. The last three months of drinking for me is when I started to spin out of control. I would get so depressed and I knew I couldn’t live like this. My wife made me an appointment at the walk-in for my anxiety and attacks to maybe get myself on some medication, so I go, and my blood pressure is maybe 200 over, who the fuck knows, and this is the second time I had been to the walk-in like that, feeling like I was having a heart attack. From all the alcohol and no sleep, I told them that my blood pressure was going to be really high because I’m having a panic attack, that I’m probably not gonna die, even if I feel like I’m gonna die. The guy had to be new because he was trying to keep it cool, but he looks at the reading and thinks there must be something wrong with the machine. Doctor comes in and doesn’t look at or take my blood pressure. She looks at me and says, ‘You gotta go to the hospital.’ But does she want to send me into detox? I looked at her like, there’s not a chance in hell, but I know what I have to do.”

On his last day of being off the wagon, Cistulli said he “got a shit ton of booze, beer, and a couple packs of cigarettes” to indulge in.

“I knew that was the last time because I always told myself and my wife that if the doctor told me this is life or death and I had to give it up…nobody had ever told me that, and she told me that this would kill me, so I went home and said to my wife, ‘I’m drinking too much and I gotta stop,’” he recalls. “She told me she knew. I told her, ‘Thank you for never telling me to quit drinking because if you every did, I never would have stopped.’ I reached out to a buddy who was in AA, I did some classes, and met a ton of chefs and people just like me, people I worked with and were friends who I had no idea were all sober cats. I did meetings for a long time and I still have a therapist. I don’t have any desire to drink anymore.”

Even though he says that sometimes he misses it and that “just talking about it makes me salivate,” Cistulli, now over two-and-a-half years sober, has no desire to go down that road again.

“I communicate better, I argue better, I have a better relationship with my kids, I’m up early and in my restaurant at 7:30, and I’m clear headed, even though mental health is still a struggle, but that’s just part of my life,” he says. “The gratefulness and the mindfulness that you get from sobriety and being completely clear-headed is unimaginable. The brain is designed to give you feelings of euphoria and all these things on its own without substance abuse, like the brain's supposed to do that, but we fuck that up when we abuse drugs and alcohol. Once you get all that shit out of your system, your brain starts to work like a normal person's brain and you're able to have this clarity and it's an overwhelming sense of gratitude and acceptance. You lose anger and resentment, all these things that you start to realize that being angry is exhausting.  It's the most peaceful place, the most powerful place; you feel powerful and strong in your mind and your body, but when you get there, you're like, ‘Oh my god what am I doing here.’ It's amazing. I don't even smoke pot or take edibles because I want no filter between me and every single emotion, even if it’s a shitty emotion. If I’m sad, I want to feel every bit of it. I do believe that’s the key to life and the key to a long life is being inside every moment, even the hard ones.”

What helped Cistulli a lot, too, were the Alcoholics Anonymous meetings (there’s a Stanford study that proves AA is 60% more effective than rehab and NO studies found it less effective), especially, he says, when one has a willingness to take advantage of what it offers, and that you can find a meeting online or on the app at anytime, anywhere, with participants from all walks of life, and that you’ll undoubtedly make connections with people who you can reach out to if you’re struggling.

As for Ortiz, he’s been able to return to the industry that, despite its pitfalls and temptations intertwined with his mental health struggles, says taught him so much about urgency, speed, and survival, and throughout his own journey has learned to be a better listener and more compassionate with others and himself—and making sure he takes the time to breathe.

“I can produce events and experiences again without that heavy feeling in my chest,” he says. “I used to think the only way out was to quit the industry altogether, but that was a lie. You can stay. You can heal and still be in this world. You can be part of a kitchen that cares. Chefs like Carlos are bringing it to their teams. You can do it solo—but even better, you can do it in community. Because that’s what the 86 Challenge really is: a collective movement. And even if you do it alone, we’ve built an online space to support you. You don’t have to burn out to start again. You just need five seconds. And a little space. And those five seconds? They’re gold.”

If you’re struggling with mental health, substance abuse, burnout, or suicidal thoughts, the following resources can help. If any readers have more, please list it in the comments.

From Carlos Perez: CHOW (Culinary Hospitality Outreach Wellness) -  chowco.org  and AFSP Connecticut Chapter (American Foundation for Suicide Prevention) –  afsp.org/chapter/connecticut

From Beto Ortiz: The 86 Challenge - eightysixchallenge.com

From Dante Cistulli: Alcoholics Anonymous - aa.org and Narcotics Anonymous - na.org