This guy could write. Man, I miss him.

A few things bubble up as I think about this book.

First is how Bourdain set out, more or less from the beginning, to be the kind of person he became. He wanted to be seen, recognized, thought-highly-of. He wanted to quip snarkily about things. He wanted to squeeze the juice out of the blood-orange of life, to slurp the seductive oyster.

He was aware that he was pretentious and obnoxious, that part of his personality was pure affect, and that was fine. That was how he wanted it to be.

The second thing is how Bourdain ran and appreciated others running a kind of culinary miscreant pirate ship in the kitchen. He instructed runners to give body blows to anyone impeding the flow of orders, ingredients, and completed dishes. He ran intelligence operations. He constantly inquired, like a field general, about the psychological health of the operation, human resources, the industry as a whole, and their competitors across the street. He stabbed a handsy coworker with a rusty meat fork. He drooped, exhausted under fluorescent lights, or zipped, coked up, from one failing restaurant operation to the next. The world Bourdain described, created, and maintained in this book was, intentionally, delicious.

A third and maybe most salient surprise, had to do with his first trip to Japan which he relates toward the end of the book. He describes, with mild discomfort, the thirteen hour flight. He talks about walking the streets in a fog of jet lag. He pedals a bicycle, and wanders smokey alleyways, unsure of where he is and what he is expected to do. More than anything, his fear is fascinating. This man, whom I only ever knew as an intrepid explorer on CNN—shotgunning barbecued insects, ceremonially slaughtering Masai meat—was once a cowering American outsider. He describes an early morning ramble, his first in Tokyo, peering into uncertain doorways, and being stared at. He feels out of place. He seeks refuge in a Starbucks, the culturally familiar. He kicks himself for being too afraid to try a soba noodle place, and strikes out again, this time determined. He pulls back a curtain, plops down on a stool, squints at an all-Japanese menu, then jerks a thumb at the salary man seated next to him. "I'll have what he's having."

Incorrigible, crass, intelligent, and curious, Bourdain, in many of the ways that mattered, knew how to take life, prepare, and serve it.

I'd like to have what he's having too.

This book languished on my To-Be-Read list for a long time. The author’s passing  moved it up, and it finally reached the top. It was my mistake not to have read it sooner.

Full disclosure, I worked several years in a restaurant kitchen in my youth.

The book has all the look ‘n feel of having been written in 2000, with all that entails. I laughed –out-loud several times with the author’s turns-of-a-phrase and the authenticity of the narration. Unfortunately, this is neither a memoir or an autobiography. It’s a collection of essays in chronological order. It posed a frustrating continuity problem for me in developing a picture of the author. Recommended for: foodies, org behavior wonks, commercial kitchen survivors and the fans of gonzo 80-90’s lit.

My copy was a slender (by modern standards) 300+ pages. When I found time to read it, I burned through the short chapters.

Writing was technically good. I suspect my 2007 copyright version had been professionally groomed by Harper over the 2000 copyrighted original? Having written that, the book is very much a creature of its time—80-90’s. I felt the serious influence of  Hunter S. Thompson,  Raymond Chandler and maybe a hint of  Charles Bukowski throughout?

Like Chandler, the author invested a lot in atmosphere. Having worked in a metro-NY restaurant kitchen, the authenticity of the narration warped me back to the: seamy, steamy, greasy, and adrenaline-fueled pandemonium of that past life. I greatly appreciated the writing about food. If a reader likes to cook or has pretensions toward being a foodie, you’ll find plenty of fodder here. I also found some of the author’s use of similes and one-liners (many of them old chestnuts) to be sublime. The profanity was also creative in places.

Note this book contains sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll. Its narrative is heavily influenced by the gonzo-style  of writing popular in the decades before the new Millennium. Modern readers with delicate sensibilities may come away with a case of testosterone poisoning from it.

My greatest problem with the book was with its continuity. It was really a collection of essays in chronological order. That made it a peculiar hybrid of memoir and autobiography. It was fine reading the chapters ‘stand-alone’, but it left the gestalt of the book flawed.

For example, periodically throughout, Bourdain made references to his: mother, girlfriends, lovers, and a wife. (He had two (2) wives, although the book’s wife is Nancy Putkoski, married in 1985.) These relationships were black boxed. They were only mentioned peripherally despite their obvious effect on his life. I was particularly irked that he wrote nothing about why and how he wrote. I was gobsmacked to find he’d earlier written two (2), NYC kitchen-based mysteries Bone in the Throat(1995)  and Gone Bamboo (1997). These books received modest acclaim, but were unknown to me. If I’m to believe that NYC chefs are worked like rented mules, where did he find time to write three (3) books? Why did he feel he had to write, given his satisfaction with being a chef? Was he encouraged by his mother, who was an editor at The New York Times? (This was not mentioned in the book.)

I was both satisfied and disappointed with this book. The book had great edu-tainment value for a certain demographic. Bourdain took me down both NYC and Cape Cod Memory Lanes laughing in places during the trip. From the grave, he inspired me to finally buy a  Mandoline. However, The whole is something else than the sum of its parts (Koffka). The book’s individual chapters, and for short runs of chapters, were very good. Unfortunately, large parts of the author’s story were missing. It left me feeling he was being disingenuous in its telling. Finally, this book left me with no inkling of why he'd take his life 18-years later. In summary, this book is recommended for reading as a collection of essays by the author only.

I will likely be reading Medium Raw: A Bloody Valentine to the World of Food and the People Who Cook , but only after I read the mystery Bone in the Throat first.

Anthony Bourdain is very much the punk rock rebel of celebrity chefs. The chef who isn't afraid to refer to Emeril as an Ewok, and poke fun of culinary-school trained cooks, when at the same time, he is a celebrity chef, and a culinary school graduate. He knows this, and it's not a problem for him.

Kitchen Confidential is part memoir, part how-to, and mostly about sex, drugs and rock-n-roll. It's basically a history of Anthony's obsession with food and drugs from his days as a young boy, until he finally landed a steady job, and got off the heroin. This is not the book you should read if you don't want to know who is cooking your food. If you'd rather be ignorant about what exactly is being served at Sunday brunch, skip this book. You may never eat fish on a Monday again.

In his typical style, he speaks his mind, sometimes harshly about the food industry. His cynicism and sarky nature are evident on every page, sometimes, honestly, it gets annoying. That may be due in no small part to the fact that I was reading this book as the new season of No Reservations started, so I might have just been on Bourdain overload.

I wanted to enjoy this book more, but as much as it was full of great writing, excellent imagery, and unique insight into the world of restaurants, I just found myself more annoyed than excited by the book.

I guess part of it was the fact that Bourdain seems to think that working all hours, miscreant geniuses, machisimo, and locker room humor are the sole province of kitchens. I guess it's a blessing that he's never worked in technology--especially in break-fix arenas. It's another place where calling someone a "cocksucker" means you like them, where even if you're a woman, you need to have a dick, or talk like you do. I guess I just felt like he wasn't giving me any new information. Get a bunch of guys together in a high stress, service environment, and you have to be abrasive, just to survive the night.

Anyhow... It wasn't a bad read. I do know now I never plan to work in a kitchen (the book also made me realize just how many cooks/dishwashers etc. I have known over the years, maybe another reason this wasn't such a revelation for me).

Anyhow, I'm going back to fantasy fiction for a while.

“Get that dried crap away from my bird!” That random line about herbs is one my husband and I remember from a Bourdain TV program and occasionally quote to each other. It’s a mild curse compared to the standard fare in this flashy memoir about what really goes on in restaurant kitchens. His is a macho, vulgar world of sex and drugs. In the “wilderness years” before he opened his Les Halles restaurant, Bourdain worked in kitchens in Baltimore and New York City and was addicted to heroin and cocaine. Although he eventually cleaned up his act, he would always rely on cigarettes and alcohol to get through ridiculously long days on his feet.

From “Appetizer” to “Coffee and a Cigarette,” the book is organized like a luxury meal. Bourdain charts his development as a chef, starting with a childhood summer in France during which he ate vichyssoise and oysters for the first time and learned that food “could be important … an event” and describing his first cooking job in Provincetown and his time at the Culinary Institute of America. He also discusses restaurant practices and hierarchy, and home cook cheats and essentials. (I learned that you should never order fish in a restaurant on a Monday – it’ll be left over from Thursday’s order.) The pen portraits of his crazy sous-chef and baker are particularly amusing; other subjects include a three-star chef he envies and the dedicated Latino immigrants who are the mainstay of his kitchen staff.

My dad is not a reader but he is a foodie, and he has read Bourdain’s nonfiction (and watched all his shows), so I felt like I was continuing a family tradition in reading this. I loved my first taste of Bourdain’s writing: he’s brash, passionate, and hilariously scornful of celebrity chefs and vegetarianism (“the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit, an affront to all I stand for, the pure enjoyment of food”). Being in charge of a restaurant sounds manic, yet you can see why some would find it addictive. How ironic, though, to find a whole seven references to suicide in this book. Sometimes he’s joking; sometimes he’s talking about chefs he’s heard about who couldn’t take the pressure. Eighteen years after this came out, he, too, would kill himself.

(See also this article about rereading Bourdain for the 20th anniversary of Kitchen Confidential.)

Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.

n  

I'll be right here. Until they drag me off the line. I'm not going anywhere.

n
Oh, Anthony Bourdain. The world lost a great chef and unmatched culinary ambassador the day you died.

Kitchen Confidential is the memoir that originally put Anthony Bourdain on the map. I never got around to reading it when it was first published back in 2000, but I've always been a fan of his, catching his No Reservations and Parts Unknown whenever I had the chance. So it's with no small amount of excitement that I've finally gotten around to his famed memoir.

Reading it for the first time more than two decades later, I can't help but feel as though a ghost has leapt off the pages. His voice is as vibrant as ever, his eye for the delicious and the shocking coming through on every page. To read his words is to experience his view of the world, and it is filled with food, drugs, profanity, and astonishing candor.

If you've ever been curious about how a professional kitchen is run, well, this will satisfy that curiosity. And what's in here is eye-opening, to say the least. Sprinkled with Bourdain's self-deprecating dark humor, it's sure to make you chuckle and cringe in equal measure. After having read this, I'm not sure I'm in a particular hurry to eat out, at least in the types of restaurants he highlights.

What makes Bourdain so special is clearly evident amongst the pages here, even from a book he wrote long ago. He has a way with words, building what would be mundane happenings at the hands of a lesser wordsmith into riveting and scintillating vignettes. And he does this again and again. I couldn't look away.

In particular, his chapter on his first visit to Japan has all the flavors of what would become his trademark later. His unabashed enthusiasm for trying new foods and experiencing new cultures, and his innate understanding that the two are inextricably linked. To read his words is to feel his emotions, and they are tinged with the bittersweet—wonder for new culinary adventures but also sadness for all that he wouldn't have the chance to experience.

I confess I'm a full-blown foodie. I love trying new restaurants, finding new things to eat that I've never had before. That moment, when you take the first bite of a never-before-tried dish and realize you've found a new favorite, it's one of the best feelings in the world. And Anthony Bourdain passionately embodied that. To read about his early days is an honor, and I'm glad I finally got around to it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
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This was a pick for my Book of the Month box. Get your first book for $5 here.

This book made my top 10 nonfiction list of 2021! Check out the video here: https://youtu.be/TByaMqiy4JQ

This was a delightfully lewd listen, and had me laughing out loud throughout. Bourdain is at times charismatic, arrogant, perverted, self aggrandizing, self deprecating, remorseful, talented, appreciative, articulate, and foul mouthed. It’s a fascinating blend and I can certainly see why he was so successful in the food business and on tv.

I worked in restaurants for years, as a lowly waiter, so I’m at least somewhat familiar with the terrain. But for me waiting tables was just a job, something I was good enough at to make some money to help me get through university. It wasn’t a lifestyle, an identity, an all consuming force, and a place where I made and broke lifelong friendships.

Bourdain’s journey from a snotty kid, to an unlikeable college student, to an overbearing young cook, to an audacious and drug addled chef, to something of an ‘everyman’ food connoisseur in his late stages was fascinating to follow. His adventures were memorable, the cast of dodgy characters added humor and shock value, and his lectures and rants on food, equipment, prep, restaurant management, and the industry were informative.

In this book you’ll get: the backstory of what got him into cooking, how and where he learned and sharpened his trade, the influential people he met along the way that shaped his persona and ideology, the adventures and misadventures of a career as a chef, plenty of ‘info dumps’ about food prep, how to and how not to run a restaurant, and many other food related topics.

One of my favorite parts of the audiobook was when he was doing a play by play of an incredibly busy night on the line at a slammed restaurant. As I listened to his frantic adventure on 1.5 playback speed I almost felt like I was in the kitchen myself and started sweating.

I also really enjoyed toward the end when he traveled to Japan and ended up in Starbucks, feeling overwhelmed with the foreignness of a new country. As an expat living in Thailand the feeling was relatable, and I found his ability to overcome it so quickly admirable. Of course, given the direction his career took after this book this shouldn’t be a surprise.

This book is more than just a chef’s memoir, it also encapsulates a life’s journey, and hits on some really valuable life lessons: being committed to your career, having integrity, building strong relationships with people, not being afraid to fail and learning from it, and changing your life’s goals as life changes you. Despite describing himself as an asshole, which he certainly could be at times, Bourdain was more human than anything; he made mistakes and he wasn’t afraid to admit it, and that made him extremely relatable.

Of course it was all tinged with a bit of sadness knowing that in the end he was unable to escape his demons. At least he lived the kind of life he wanted, not holding back from anything, and I think the work he did late in his career touched a lot of people. RIP Mr. Bourdain.

Story-8, Language-8, Ideas-7, Characters-8, Enjoyment-9, Overall-8.2

Working-Class Contradictions 101…

Preamble:
--I’ll forever be grateful of this American bloke travelling the world (esp. Global South), having the courage and respect to actually visit the “underbelly” of inequality, all the unglamorous work that keep society running (which most tourists avoid), and popularizing his findings to sheltered and propagandized American/Western audiences.
…However, this doesn’t happen in this book (Bourdain’s debut nonfiction), so I’ll save this for his next book.

Highlights:

1) Immigrants: Foundation of the Domestic Working-Class:
--The seeds for empathy were planted with Bourdain’s experiences working with migrant workers in the sweltering confines of US restaurant kitchens:

[…] and their comrades, the Refugees, usually emigres and immigrants for whom cooking is preferable to death squads, poverty or working in a sneaker factory for 2 dollars a week. […]

Generally speaking, American cooks-meaning, born in the USA, possibly school-trained, culinarily sophisticated types who know before you show them what monter au beurre means and how to make a bearnaise sauce-are a lazy, undisciplined and, worst of all, high-maintenance lot, annoyingly opinionated, possessed of egos requiring constant stroking and tune-ups, and, as members of a privileged and wealthy population, unused to the kind of 'disrespect' a busy chef is inclined to dish out. No one understands and appreciates the American Dream of hard work leading to material rewards better than a non-American. The Ecuadorian, Mexican, Dominican and Salvadorian cooks I've worked with over the years make most [Culinary Institute of America]-educated white boys look like clumsy, sniveling little punks.

In New York City, the days of the downtrodden, underpaid illegal immigrant cook, exploited by his cruel masters, have largely passed-at least where quality line cooks are concerned. Most of the Ecuadorians and Mexicans I hire from a large pool-a sort of farm team of associated and often related former dishwashers-are very well-paid professionals, much sought after by other chefs. Chances are they've worked their way up from the bottom rung; they remember well what it was like to empty out grease traps, scrape plates, haul leaking bags of garbage out to the curb at four o'clock in the morning. A guy who's come up through the ranks, who knows every station, every recipe, every corner of the restaurant and who has learned, first and foremost, your system above all others is likely to be more valuable and long-term than some bed-wetting white boy whose mom brought him up thinking the world owed him a living, and who thinks he actually knows a few things. […]

[Suggestions for future chefs] 2. Learn Spanish! I can't stress this enough. Much of the workforce in the industry you are about to enter is Spanish-speaking. The very backbone of the industry, whether you like it or not, is inexpensive Mexican, Dominican, Salvadorian and Ecuadorian labor-most of whom could cook you under the table without breaking a sweat. If you can't communicate, develop relationships, understand instructions and pass them along, then you are at a tremendous disadvantage.

Should you become a leader, Spanish is absolutely essential. Also, learn as much as you can about the distinct cultures, histories and geographies of Mexico, EI Salvador, Ecuador and the Dominican Republic. A cook from Puebla is different in background from a cook from Mexico City. Someone who fled EI Salvador to get away from the Mano Blanco is not likely to get along with the right-wing Cuban working next to him. These are your co-workers, your friends, the people you will be counting on, leaning on for much of your career, and they in turn will be looking to you to hold up your end. Show them some respect by bothering to know them. Learn their language. Eat their food. It will be personally rewarding and professionally invaluable.

--Growing up in an immigrant family, we never ate at restaurants, but we worked in them. By the time we finally settled down, I was privileged to not have to work there for survival, so my first job as a dishwasher was only a casual glance.
--When I read to learn about the world, I'm not just looking for deconstructive criticisms. I'm also looking for constructive opportunities in this contradictory world, gems like the above. Another example I always go to: War is a Racket: The Antiwar Classic by America's Most Decorated Soldier

--Since the 2024 Trump victory in the US elections was a couple days ago, let me add a few points:
i) The fearmongering around a recent “illegal immigrants crisis” is fascist scapegoating 101. I’ll write an entire review countering each myth in the future; in the meantime, see Hasanabi’s video You Are Wrong About Immigration... countering the key myths (drain on resources, being “illegal”…and the most vulgar myth on violent crimes which starts at 20:40 of the video).
ii) The Republican Party have been accelerating down the fascist road for a while now. The key change in the 2024 election is the corporate leaders of the Democratic Party reversing their rhetorical protests against Trump’s “Build The Wall” fascism to accept the “illegal immigrants crisis”. This spineless attempt at opportunism only normalizes fascism’s invented reality, shifting the “Overton Window” (range of mainstream political debate) further into fascism, where obviously the fascists have the advantage. See Hasanabi’s How did Donald Trump Win The Election video.
…This is one of endless examples of liberalism paving the way to fascism:
-Blackshirts and Reds: Rational Fascism and the Overthrow of Communism
-how fascism is colonial practices returning home: Discourse on Colonialism
-Doppelganger: A Trip into the Mirror World
-The Reactionary Mind: Conservatism from Edmund Burke to Donald Trump
…These Republican and Democrat elites deserve to be deported off the planet, in one of Musk’s rockets (along with Musk himself, another blatant example of the liberal-to-fascist pipeline).
iii) This fascism is directed from the top (Republican/Democrat politicians, think-tanks and media). The American public, despite all their baggage, actually poll with contradictory views on immigration, both being readily triggered by fearing “illegal aliens”, but also recognizing the need for amnesty. This is another crucial point that Hasanabi highlights. Please understand that ignorant cynicism of “human nature” is a key tool in the liberal-to-fascism pipeline.

2) Contradictions:
--There’s a reason why Bourdain seems universally popular. He’s a bundle of contradictions which he communicates with a crude yet poetic flair, so everyone can take their pick.
…However, I’m less inspired by vicariously enjoying the roller-coaster ride of a man struggling with addiction.

[…] your body is not a temple, it's an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.

[…] But I frequently look back at my life, searching for that fork in the road, trying to figure out where, exactly, I went bad and became a thrill-seeking, pleasure-hungry sensualist, always looking to shock, amuse, terrify and manipulate, seeking to fill that empty spot in my soul with something new.

…Yes, debauchery and the abyss are fascinating, it’s difficult to look away, but when my mind is sober I prefer not to elevate this to the top. This is why I started with the gem on immigrants, to highlight those moments of healing.
--Ultimately, Bourdain’s working-class framework is still mired in a capitalist vicious cycle ("American Dream" meritocracy). Yes, it’s important for workers to find some dignity in their work (and often an important start in communications, like Bernie Sanders, to bridge to deeper explorations), but the manner in which this is described in the book still seems to normalize extreme hierarchical exploitation as just life/human nature.
...I do appreciate Bourdain finishing with an example of a restaurant he greatly respects where the kitchen environment was not the vulgarity that he was used to. But there was still little structural substance of creative alternatives for worker empowerment which I focus on (radical political economy).

Celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain made me decidedly not hungry after reading a book entirely about food. I don't know if that is a good or bad thing...maybe good? From hollandaise sauce and brunches to bargain sushi to fish on Mondays to well-done steaks, my stomach has been sufficiently warned away from the dark secrets of the "culinary underbelly." Ignorance is bliss, but I'd rather just avoid the nasties when I know better.

Reminding me of why I did and didn't like Liar's Poker, Anthony Bourdain does the first-person muckraking of restaurant crews that Michael Lewis did for Wall Street bond traders. Basically, chefs are on a disturbing spectrum of rude, bawdy, racist, misogynistic, drug-fueled, aggressive, and frankly, disgusting. Blegh! Far from being a sophisticated art-form, Bourdain makes you feel like the culinary arts are often anything but. Of course, this is a generalization of Bourdain's many personal anecdotes, but Kitchen Confidential lends itself credibility from a laundry list of his varied and numerous experiences, be it a casual seafood joint in Provincetown or the Culinary Institute of America or an upscale French restaurant in New York. From dishwasher to executive chef, there's no doubt that Bourdain has an insider's scoop.

This book is not for the faint-hearted. Talking about food-related things can be notoriously emetic; Upton Sinclair is famous for a reason, after all. Yet when Bourdain talks about how cooks lop off fingers on accident (or intentionally...) or how he stabbed a colleague's knuckles with a kitchen fork, I ended up letting out a pained laugh. It was mainly a coping mechanism, the stomach-turning moments tolerated more easily because Bourdain has a bold voice that spills out a fiery passion for food. When it comes to shocking the reader, there are no holds barred. Whether for a laugh or a gasp, Bourdain has mastered the ability to drag either one out of you with culinary precision.

The book is heavy on the jargon—I still don't know if I ever properly kept track of the string of fancy, obscure foods or techniques (I will only ever spell bouillabaisse right this one time) that he mentions. With scarcity in the realm of relatable experience regarding the upper echelons of professional chefdom, reading Kitchen Confidential felt original and shocking. Though I lost some interest in the wild stories after they began to feel redundant midway through, I can still appreciate Bourdain's acerbic wit and dark humor. I’ve taken away only piecemeal messages from the book, but I feel plenty filled up to last me a number of meals, thank you very much.

This book would be an ideal choice for a fraternity's monthly book club. I do not mean that as a 100% insult--maybe a 60% insult. What I mean is that a lot of the plot points do not exist for any other reason than to emphasize how bro-y the restaurant industry is (see: rando bride getting banged in the storeroom by a chef).

I did not purchase this book. It was a free audiobook, and I started listening to it on drives to and from Austin and work. It is 35% mildly entertaining, 15% very entertaining, and 50% boring or worse. Maybe I am just irritated by Anthony Bourdain's wiseass voice yelling at me from my speakers. Maybe if I read it the old-fashioned way, I would like it more because my own voice does not yell at me in such a macho way.

Anthony Bourdain is an interesting enough person. The writing style is sometimes funny and intriguing. He gives good advice about knives at one point. But after a few hours, his voice feels like patriarchy rubbing a cheese grater against your ear.

Halfway through this book I remembered I don't have the slightest bit of interest in the culinary arts whatsoever. Luckily, I was listening to it on audiotape. Unluckily, cassette 4 broke and I had to read the rest with my eyes. I'm not sure why I picked this up, I guess because I heard Bourdain was the "punk rock chef," but besides listening to the Sex Pistols and Velvet Underground while he cooked, there's not a whole lot else going on of a punk rock nature. He was a drug addict, but the book kind of skips right over that, which would have been interesting; I'd rather it had been more of a total autobiography than just a chronicle of his history of the restaurant biz, but once again, it's my fault because that's clearly what the book is labeled as. I wanted dirty stories from the seedy underbelly of the high-class dining world, but it didn't really get much wilder than a bunch of cooks making racist, sexist, homophobic jokes. Dude, that's not exclusive to the culinary world, that's pretty much behind the scenes at any workplace, or really any time you get a lot of misplaced testosterone in one room. You're not leading a "pirate crew," you're supervising people who are following recipes. I rented a dvd from his show "No Reservations" and was again surprised at myself for forgetting I don't really care about exotic foods, and that's a traveling show, which I'm also not into. So now I'm watching like 3 hours of a guy I don't like, eating shit I don't care about, in places I'm not interested in going to. It should be noted that I do like Rachel Ray's "Tasty Travels," but that's another story I don't want to get into. The only really funny anecdote I found was when he was in an interview for chef at a new steakhouse in New York, things were going smoothly until the owner asked him, "What do you know about me?" Bourdain thought it over, not sure what he should say, so he said the truth, "Nothing." So then the guy gives him a weird look, and the interview ends with Bourdain knowing he's not getting the job. He walks a few blocks down the street before he realizes the guy actually asked, "What do you know about MEAT."

Energetic and fun. I was swept along in the torrent of Anthony Bourdain's life and his experiences from a young boy tasting his first oyster to the life of a professional chef, burn-scarred hands and all. In the context of what Kitchen Confidential tries to achieve, it's a masterpiece, maybe as impressive as any of the Michelin star meals created in his kitchens. One of the biggest surprises was how prolific a writer he was, fiction and non-fiction. Kitchen Confidential is a remarkable experience I will probably read again.

[3.4] I'm so glad I finally read this memoir. Bourdain's description of his various kitchen workplaces is intense and frenetic. There is also a thread of sadness because I know how it ends. Once again, after finishing a book about the restaurant business, I ask myself, why would anyone go into this business? I finished the book feeling exhausted.