Bourdain did not only taste oysters - he experienced the ecstatic sensory joy, the deep value of the sensual experience that can give meaning to life. In rich flavors, he experienced happiness, creativity, inspiration, id, the life force itself. For Bourdain, food is sex as the sensory pleasure that comes from food is life-invigorating and gives existence a new purpose. After a brief introduction in which he asserts his memoir is not intended as revenge, as he loves cooking and working as a chef, Bourdain reflects on his introduction to cooking as opposed to simply eating. As a child, he was served Vichyssoise, a cold soup, while traveling on the Queen Mary with his family heading for a vacation in France. This is the first food he remembers actually enjoying. When they arrive in France, Bourdain is initially unimpressed with French food until his parents, tired of his complaining, leave him and his brother in the car while they enjoy a sumptuous meal at the famous La Pyramide, leading Bourdain to think that food could be important as well as enjoyable. He begins to enjoy the hearty country staples of French provincial cooking. Sure, reading Kitchen Confidential made me sad as I realized once again the magnitude of Bourdain's loss. But I'm also so happy he left such a rich legacy, in print, on television, and of course, in food. I’m asked a lot what the best thing about cooking for a living is. And it’s this: to be a part of a subculture. To be part of a historical continuum, a secret society with its own language and customs. To enjoy the instant gratification of making something good with one’s hands – using all one’s senses. It can be, at times, the purest and most unselfish way of giving pleasure (though oral sex has to be a close second).”

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 CIA-educated white boys look like clumsy, sniveling little punks. Restaurants garnish their food. Why shouldn't you? Dip the sprigs in cold water, shake off excess, allow to dry for a few minutes, and slice the stuff, as thinly as you can, with that sexy new chef's knife. Talk about a wild ride! According to Anthony Bourdain, life in the culinary world is not for the weak or faint of heart. It is a wild, crazy, high-low, full-speed ahead life!Coming from a family that summer vacationed in Europe, he was exposed to a variety of foods and found that it was heaven. In college he wasn't motivated or even interested and wound up flunking out. Still having a love for food he decided to try his hand at culinary school and becoming a chef.His first real job was a place in Provincetown during summer. He thought he knew it all, but found out he didn't. At that point he really started to learn what working in a kitchen was all about. The hard work, long hours and the crazies that work there.I took my time reading because of the fast pace, but also I had 2 to 3 other books I was reading at the same time. I enjoyed his writing, finding it funny, insane and wanting to read more. I've read two other books he's written; 'Gone Bamboo' and' Typhoid Mary; An Urban Historical.' Both were good. I plan to look for more of his work. I enjoyed his writing, finding it funny, insane and wanting to read more. I've read two other books he's written; 'Gone Bamboo' and' Typhoid Mary; An Urban Historical.' Both were good. I plan to look for more of his work. Read more Having just listened to Marco Pierre White's autobiography, I decided again to return to Bourdain's tales of life as a Chef, my fourth reading now, and still as good as first time around. It was so wonderful to hear his brilliant narration, too, a voice to remember. A voice filled with his love of life, his life and all it's imperfections, the people he'd worked with, be they good, bad or quirky. So full of humour and the enjoyment of discovery. How different from the coldness and self obsession of White.The writing style is also somewhat over-done. It reminds me of when I was in high school and a group of us learned how to write humorous essays, that mostly consisted of wild exaggeration coupled with sarcasm. It's tiring. I was the Quiet American, the Ugly American, the Hungry Ghost ... searching and searching for whatever came next. Tony’s Compass: How Anthony Bourdain Became the Food TV Star of a Generation Our Great Ambassador: In Memory of Anthony Bourdain Parts Known: Anthony Bourdain and the Passage of Time While Living on TV Eating, Talking, and Listening: The Final Season of ‘Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown’ But also, Bourdain was an incredibly charismatic, passionate, intelligent, well-read, eloquent, funny and honest human being, a sensualist that had plenty of life inside himself and who truly appreciated the pleasures of life. Under the strong facade he was deeply sentimental and empathetic, and also suffering from a raging depression he tried to self-medicate through large amounts of alcohol and all kind of drugs, including heroin, an addiction he later on recovered from. This passage shows the depths of his depression and is terrifying in the light of the future event.

I'm asked a lot what the best thing about cooking for a living is. And it's this: to be a part of a subculture. To be part of a historical continuum, a secret society with its own language and customs. To enjoy the instant gratification of making something good with one's hands--using all one's senses. It can be, at times, the purest and most unselfish way of giving pleasure... Other parts will disgust you and leave you nauseous. You will never look a restaurant food the same way - and may not want to eat it at all unless you get a good look at the kitchen and the people preparing the food.He sounds pretty much like a conceited, arrogant asshole, even as he's admitting he was a conceited, arrogant, twenty-year-old asshole. In this case, though certainly there is a feel of realism added by listening to him talk, it is far, far too much arrogance for me. I work with that type quite a bit, so I'm not really enjoying it during my free time. Whilst reading it nearly four years later, I thought often about articles, particularly from the Guardian, about how restaurant kitchen culture is changing, especially but not only since #metoo ... I'm assuming that, because it's the Guardian, that the change is very patchy indeed and probably with younger teams in urban areas. (Having, before this year, spent so much time at home ill and on the internet, I used to overestimate the impact Very Online social justice culture had in the real world in general, and am now seeing the difference, between internet and reality, especially in middle-aged centre-left people. I'd assume it's no different in kitchens, and change is probably slower if anything.) Saying that, though, Bourdain admits in Kitchen Confidential that not all chef contemporaries of his were as wild and aggressive as his team. In a professional kitchen, we sauté in a mixture of butter and oil for that nice brown, caramelised colour, and we finish nearly every sauce with it (we call this monter au beurre); that's why my sauce tastes creamier and mellower than yours. Margarine? That's not food. I Can't Believe It's Not Butter? I can. Kitchen Confidential also mirrors some of the former newspaper reporter Simon’s uncanny talent for explaining complex hierarchies and ecosystems. Just as Simon laid bare the Byzantine world of Baltimore’s drug trade and the futile attempts at policing it, Bourdain’s rogues’ gallery of investors, managers, food purveyors, inspectors, underworld operators, and rank-and-file staff involved in a typical restaurant venture is an exhilarating window into what civilians might have misconstrued as prosaic. Little wonder that Simon would eventually hire Bourdain to write multiple episodes of his post-Katrina, New Orleans–set HBO drama, Treme. Bourdain believes that the workplace is not for hobbyists and that anyone entering the industry without a masochistic, irrational dedication to cooking will be deterred.

I'll be right here. Until they drag me off the line. I'm not going anywhere.Oh, Anthony Bourdain. The world lost a great chef and unmatched culinary ambassador the day you died. Bourdain definitely crushes all preconceived notions we might have about the industry. You remember those foul-mouthed, unkempt, ever-fired-and-hired kitchen workers with shifty pasts you've come across at some points in your life? I thought I simply had a misfortune of working in crappy places, but, apparently, all cooks are exactly like that! There is no such thing as a sophisticated cook, according to Bourdain. In his book, cooks are a dysfunctional lot - drug-addicted, unable to hold a "normal" job, people from the fringes of the society. Actually, Bourdain is one of these people himself. He supports this statement by numerous stories of his drug-, crime- and sex-infused culinary career. As for artistry in cooking, there is none. Cooking is all about mindless, unvarying repetition. Only a few executive chefs in high-end restaurants have a luxury of being creative with the food they make. I first heard of author, Anthony Bourdain, in a review discussion of his exposé of behind the scenes restaurant life on BBC Radio Four over twenty years ago. Two days later I bought and read Kitchen Confidential, and was totally blown away. I bought copies for family members, bored anyone who'd listen with excerpts and advice from the book, then started on a succession of other cook's tales, but none was as funny, scary, evocative as that by Bourdain. He remained an hero throughout the years to come. His recent, sad departure from this world prompted me to read the book again but this time literally in his own voice as he is also the narrator. And if I thought it breathtaking before, well, he really has to be heard to be believed. Good food is often simple food. Some of the best cuisine in the world - whole roasted fish, Tuscan-style, for instance - is a matter of three or four ingredients. Just make sure they're good ingredients, fresh ingredients, and then garnish them.Yup, food is sex. I can't trust people who don't enjoy food, who eat just to sustain their bodies and not for the amazing sensual pleasure that eating can be. Maybe its the French and Italian upbringing, but that's just not right to me. Love and fully experience your food! Giving someone delicious, lovingly prepared food is a profound act of love in my opinion. All these thoughts also apply to sex. Obviously. After his tragic demise in 2018, I felt something that I rarely feel from a celebrity death. Anthony Bourdain was a one-of-a-kind soul, an unparalleled talent, and a man who truly brought a never-before-seen look into his craft to the general public. This book encapsulates everything I love and admire about the man. While some people are put off by his blunt, profane, and occasionally jaded point of view, I think these qualities made him the greatest foodie there ever was. In a recent phone conversation, GQ food writer Brett Martin, who also authored the excellent 2013 survey of the early days of prestige television Difficult Men, reflects on this through the lens of two decades of hindsight: “I think people forget, in the sanctification that’s followed Bourdain’s death, that his persona early on was really sort of an asshole, shot through with this adolescent, faux-gonzo narcissism. He and [creator of The Wire] David Simon shared that weakness. But they also shared a clarity of vision and this jubilance and brilliance.” I am ashamed to say I knew very little about Anthony Bourdain before he died. I knew he was a celebrity chef, with a pile of published books, TV shows and a reputation for being abrasive, but not much else. After reading this, I regret not paying more attention when I could, because I found Mr. Bourdain to be an incredibly passionate, well-read, deeply articulate, hysterically funny and brutally honest human being. It is creepy to think I could have crushed on him super hard was he still around?