Anyone who has worked in the food and beverage scene can attest to how intense, unrelenting, and even cut-throat the industry can be.

This is especially true of luxury establishments: with a booming reputation and higher stakes, temperatures inevitably rise in the kitchen – and not just from the stoves.

One television series has been garnering acclaim thanks to its depiction of goings-on in a kitchen restaurant. “The Bear” has quickly become a critical darling, showcasing the immense pressure that chefs and other kitchen staff experience. So much so that even real-life chefs claim to be “triggered” by this series – billed as a comedy but definitely a dramedy at the very least.

“I used to work in a Michelin-starred restaurant,” one chef, Genevieve Yam, wrote on the culinary portal “Bon Appetit”. “I could barely get through ‘The Bear’. Not because I thought it was bad television, but because it was the most accurate portrayal of life in a restaurant kitchen I’ve seen in a while.”

And Walter Chaw, former chef turned critic and entertainment writer, shared on Twitter: “‘The Bear’ is simultaneously giving me a post-traumatic panic attack and making me miss being in the kitchen. So I guess I can say it nails the addictive quality of having your ass handed to you constantly by a thankless job, and also the glory of working in a team that gets it.”

For all its true-to-life representation of the toxicity of kitchen culture, the real strength of this series lies in its characters.

Chef Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto (Jeremy Allen White) or “Bear”, leaves an ostensibly glamorous, high-paying job in one of the best restaurants in the world, and returns to his Chicago hometown to take over his brother Michael’s sandwich shop, The Original Beef.

Armed with his immense knowledge, Carmy tries to sustain and improve the family establishment. He hires a new sous chef, Sydney (Ayo Edebiri), while trying not to butt heads with his “cousin” Richie Jerimovitch (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), a long-time friend and not an actual relative.

From trying to fish the diner out of massive debt, to fending off hygiene inspectors and fixing a strained relationship with his sister Natalie (Abby Elliot), each episode shows the increasing pressure Carmy faces as a (fallen?) restaurateur – made even more devastating by the revelation that Michael had committed suicide.

This loss hangs over Carmy’s head, and the other characters’, as he battles mounting anxiety and panic.

He forces himself to attend Al-Anon meetings for those affected by someone else’s drinking, and tries to prove himself because Big Brother apparently hadn’t believed in him enough to let him work at The Original Beef – the name perhaps symbolic of the resentment, then trauma, that fuelled Carmy’s decision to make it big in the “real” F&B world, and then leave it.

Indeed, Carmy’s entire identity is wrapped up in this establishment that he must save, to save himself. And so, even as viewers are treated to unflinching scenes of the stresses of the kitchen – complete with close-ups of sizzling pans and bubbling pots – an equally compelling familial and psychological human saga unfolds.

The result? A delicious and addictive eight-episode first season, thankfully peppered with light-hearted moments to offset the gravity of it all.

“The Bear” grabs you from the get-go, and barrels all the way to the finish line of its first season with a dizzying mix of charm, drama, humour, and food – lots and lots of food: chopped, julienned, marinaded, stirred, carved and deep-fried.

Episode 7, in particular, is a standout – an 18-minute bullet train of chaos in the kitchen executed in one long, single take. There are lost tempers, swearing aplenty, and even an accidental stabbing, culminating in Carmy eating a smashed donut off the kitchen floor. A masterpiece.

As the young and ambitious Sydney, Edebiri brims with an apprehensive youthfulness, and is forced to rise to the challenge when Carmy puts her in charge of the other long-time kitchen staff.

She crosses paths, and words, with the no-nonsense chef Tina (a fierce Liza Colón-Zayas), who “has been here since before you were born”. Their differences in age, experience, and life privilege make their eventual truce all the more satisfying.

Then there’s Richie, born and bred on the harder streets of Illinois, who never left it to pursue greater heights. For all his gruffness, the guy is loyal to a fault, having revered Michael, and is bent on keeping the diner alive even as his old-school methods clash with Sydney’s and Carmy’s desire to shake things up and create a better “system”.

In what could have been a most unlikeable role, Moss-Bachrach cuts a frustrating, yet entirely sympathetic, figure.

Other memorable players include Lionel Boyce’s Marcus, a dessert/pastry chef who embarks on creating “the perfect donut” to the point of obsession, and who forges a sweet friendship with Sydney.

But the heart and soul of “The Bear” lies in White’s Carmy. The strength of a show hinges on its lead, and White – who fans might know from his 10-year stint on “Shameless”, another Chicago-set, family-themed series – is terrific.

He pops with presence on screen both in terms of charisma and physicality, armed with an easy charm and swagger, tattoos on display and an unruly mop of hair that has apparently sent both male and female admirers into a tizzy on the internet.

Whether he’s losing his cool in an expletive-driven tirade, delivering an uber-emotional seven-minute monologue, or merely dicing onions, White is compelling as he portrays a deeply flawed character haunted by the trauma of a dog-eat-dog profession and personal tragedy.

All of the above might sound like a lot, and indeed, certain sequences in this show will have you holding your breath, the intensity heightened by the limited confines of the kitchen. But make no mistake: “The Bear” is a great watch, filled with incredibly human characters, solid writing, and strong performances.

‘The Bear’ can be streamed in Malaysia on Disney+ Hotstar.