The ride from New York to Cherbourg felt like “riding atop a giant lawnmower.”Īnother landmark moment in Bourdain’s discovery of food: his parents left him and his brother in the car for three hours while they dined in this called La Pyramide. “I remember everything about the experience: the way our waiter ladled it from a silver tureen into my bowl, the crunch of tiny chopped chives he spooned on as a garnish, the rich, creamy taste of leek and potato, the pleasurable shock, the surprise that it was cold.”. He ate this soup called “Vichyssoise” that was cold rather than hot. He'd probably hate to hear it, but Bourdain has a tender side, and when it peeks through his rough exterior and the wall of four-letter words he constructs, it elevates this book to something more than blustery memoir.Bourdain’s first experience really enjoying food came aboard a cruise to France. Most of the book, however, deals with Bourdain's own maturation as a chef, and the culmination, a litany describing the many scars and oddities that he has developed on his hands, is surprisingly beautiful. Gossipy chapters discuss the many restaurants where Bourdain has worked, while a single chapter on how to cook like a professional at home exhorts readers to buy a few simple gadgets, such as a metal ring for tall food. Until then, I have four words for you: `Shut the fuck up.' "" He disdains vegetarians, warns against ordering food well done and cautions that restaurant brunches are a crapshoot. His advice to aspiring chefs: ""Show up at work on time six months in a row and we'll talk about red curry paste and lemon grass. Bourdain is no presentable TV version of a chef he talks tough and dirty. He has attended culinary school, fallen prey to a drug habit and even established a restaurant in Tokyo, discovering along the way that the crazy, dirty, sometimes frightening world of the restaurant kitchen sustains him. 
The latter was born on a family trip to France when young Bourdain tasted his first oyster, and his love has only grown since. His fast-lane personality and glee in recounting sophomoric kitchen pranks might be unbearable were it not for two things: Bourdain is as unsparingly acerbic with himself as he is with others, and he exhibits a sincere and profound love of good food.
Chef at New York's Les Halles and author of Bone in the Throat, Bourdain pulls no punches in this memoir of his years in the restaurant business.
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