Dishes of Deceit: Uncovering the Real Menu of World Central Kitchen - Part 2

Part 2 - What’s Really Happening Inside José Andrés’ World Central Kitchen?

It started with whispers. Then, a quiet departure. Then another.

And suddenly, the cracks in the façade of José Andrés’ World Central Kitchen (WCK) became impossible to ignore.

For years, the celebrity chef’s non-profit has been painted as a humanitarian powerhouse, a beacon of hope appearing at disaster zones worldwide, feeding the needy with a side of carefully curated PR. But behind the glossy media coverage and feel-good photo ops, something far darker was brewing—an internal scandal that had been bubbling under the surface for years.

This time, it wasn’t about where the money was coming from. It was about what was being ignored behind the scenes.

June 6, 2022. Employees at WCK received a terse, impersonal Slack message:

“Hi all, sharing here that Tim Kilcoyne’s last day with WCK is today.”

Tim Kilcoyne attends the Los Angeles Times Food Bowl: Power of Food on May 1, 2018.(Photographer: Michael Bezjian/Ge/Michael Bezjian)

No farewell party. No grandiose praise. Just a sudden and quiet exit for one of the organization’s most powerful figures, a man who had worked side-by-side with José Andrés himself in Ukraine, California, and beyond.

What WCK didn’t say in that Slack message? Kilcoyne didn’t leave voluntarily.

An internal investigation had finally forced the nonprofit to act, years after multiple sexual harassment allegations had been raised against him.

According to reports from at least ten current and former employees, Kilcoyne’s behavior included:

• Inappropriate flirting

• Bragging about his sex life

• Pressuring women to dine or sleep in his hotel room

• Unwanted advances that escalated into sexual encounters

And here’s the kicker—the first complaint was made in 2018.

That’s right. Four years before he was quietly dismissed, the then-CEO of WCK, Nate Mook, had already been made aware of Kilcoyne’s behavior. He had even acknowledged the issue in emails.

“You are absolutely right that it’s an unacceptable situation,” Mook wrote to a volunteer in October 2018. “Kilcoyne will not be on any future WCK missions until we fully address it.”

Except that was a lie.

Weeks later, Kilcoyne was back in the field, posing for Instagram photos alongside firefighters, responding to disasters, and leading relief efforts with no repercussions whatsoever.

By the time Kilcoyne was finally removed, WCK had grown exponentially. What started as a small charity exploded into a $400 million-a-year behemoth, backed by billionaire donors and rubbing elbows with powerful politicians like Joe Biden and Jeff Bezos.

But what didn’t grow?

• A functioning HR department

• Proper oversight

• Protections for the people working under men like Kilcoyne

For most of WCK’s meteoric rise, there was no full-time HR team. Employees and volunteers were left to report their concerns directly to Mook, the very same CEO who allowed Kilcoyne to continue working despite the allegations.

By 2021, multiple women had reported Kilcoyne’s harassment to HR—only to watch nothing happen.

Instead, they watched as José Andrés himself publicly praised Kilcoyne, calling him a “true American hero” and sharing friendly photos with him online.

Even after WCK finally cut ties with Kilcoyne, the silence was deafening. No apology, no transparency, no real reckoning. Employees had to piece together what happened through vague emails and behind-the-scenes whispers.

Because in the world of celebrity humanitarianism, scandals don’t get publicized. They get managed.

After Kilcoyne’s departure, the pressure was too much for even Mook to withstand. He stepped down from his role in July 2022. But not before securing his own legacy—WCK’s financial explosion, with millions pouring in from corporate giants and billionaires who saw it as the perfect tax shelter for their generosity.

The official statement from WCK?

“WCK does not tolerate any type of discrimination, harassment, or offensive behavior.”

Except… they did. For years.

Andrés, for all his public humanitarianism, had nothing to say when Bloomberg first exposed these allegations. He declined to comment. He refused to be interviewed.

And yet, a week after Mook left, Andrés tweeted a picture of the two of them together, praising Mook’s work.

“I can not wait to see what you will do next. Gracias, amigo!”

A fitting tribute from one man who ignored red flags to another.

With a new CEO, Erin Gore, WCK promises a fresh start, better transparency, and a safer culture.

But can an organization that allowed known sexual harassment to continue for four years really be trusted to fix itself?

Or is this just another controlled damage moment, ensuring that billionaire donors and elite politicians don’t start asking too many uncomfortable questions?

Because here’s the reality: World Central Kitchen isn’t just feeding people. It’s feeding a narrative—one that hides the rot beneath its carefully polished surface.

And if history has taught us anything, it’s that no amount of good PR can erase the truth forever.

Now, this is not the only controversy that raises serious questions about Jose’s jewel in the crown organization.

For months, World Central Kitchen (WCK) had the world fooled.

The humanitarian non-profit, led by celebrity chef José Andrés, claimed it was on the frontlines in Gaza, bringing relief to those caught in the crossfire. The public saw trucks loaded with food, smiling workers, and well-packaged narratives of compassion.

But inside the organization? A different story was unfolding.

Staff members were witnessing firsthand what WCK refused to acknowledge publicly: an unfolding genocide.

And when they tried to speak up, they were ignored, silenced, or told to keep their mouths shut.

Let’s dig in!

When Ramsey Telhami, a Palestinian-American employee of WCK, resigned in March 2024, he didn’t go quietly.