I’ve watched Anthony Bourdain’s food/travel show on and off for years, enjoying his long cool languid demeanor and hip, inquisitive voice. What provokes is the sense that there is a vigorously lived life idling beneath the surface. In KITCHEN CONFIDENTIAL a younger than TV age Bourdain provides a florid splash of his adrenaline-fueled life as a chef. The pace is fast like his kitchens and is at turns shocking and hilarious--feeling like Jim Carroll’s BASKETBALL DIARIES meets Upton Sinclair’s THE JUNGLE delivered by Spalding Gray on speed. Because of his sad passing I had stayed clear of his shows and hesitated picking up this book. Enraptured, my concerns fell away as I realized every page celebrates his life and passion. The book will teach you about different foods and may encourage you to learn more but you don’t have to care about food at all to enjoy KITCHEN CONFIDENTIAL. Able to pinpoint the childhood meal that ignited his interest in food, soup served cold, that love never wavers despite page after page working insane hours under grueling conditions in crazy environments for little pay. Does that sound like fun, probably not, but it certainly is. ( )

It was interesting to hear from bourdain himself about some parts of his life. I would read other books by him. ( )

This is a fact: chefs are assholes. That said, Bourdain is less of an asshole than many a chef, particularly a celebrity chef. And, though I disagree with him whole heartedly about many things, the man can spin a tale. At the risk of sounding like an idiot, I can truthfully say that I can relate with just about anybody that's done shitloads of acid. But veal bones. That is some bullshit. ( )

This is a fact: chefs are assholes. That said, Bourdain is less of an asshole than many a chef, particularly a celebrity chef. And, though I disagree with him whole heartedly about many things, the man can spin a tale. At the risk of sounding like an idiot, I can truthfully say that I can relate with just about anybody that's done shitloads of acid. But veal bones. That is some bullshit. ( )

Tony Bourdain's voice in this book is brilliant - having only watched a bit of Parts Unknown I could practically hear his voice in my head as I was reading. The reader simultaneously sympathizes with his struggles and with his pursuit of the culinary world, while also recognizing that - at times - he (and many others) is a right bastard. He doesn't shy away from the lows of his life and of the culinary world, from the excesses and the hedonism and the constant debauchery of the life of a cook.

And he doesn't shy away from the fact that nothing he says is true of every chef, but only true of his experience, though many others have shared similar experiences to him. "You wrote my life, man," is commonly said to him, as he notes in the afterword.

Perhaps most importantly is - shocker! - the food. Bourdain's knowledge and sheer love of food leaks out of the book at the slightest glance, like a ribeye oozing onto the plate, like béarnaise trickling down the side of a T-bone, like peanut oil dripping from a basket of fries fresh out of the fryer. The reader can't help but be sucked into the enjoyment with him, even acknowledging his love for things that the reader hates.

For any chef, or sous, or garde-manger, or anybody else who's done their time as a culinary jailbird, this will be a five-star read. For me, as someone who has no experience in that world, I will enthusiastically recommend this book to the people I know who have lived that life. Four stars.

Rest in peace, Mr. Bourdain. ( )