However, this doesn’t distract from the enjoyment of reading this book, which takes the reader on a Bourdain culinary time trip from his first taste of Vichyssoise on a post-4th grade family trip to France, through his first dishwashing jobs, a succession of restaurant experiences, and back to NY where he maintains a long running stint as Executive Chef at Brasserie Les Halles, where he still works. Like many memoirs, Kitchen Confidential celebrates its author, who’s own sense of self-importance, and the superior knowledge he has to impart, comes off as slightly conceited. If, on the other hand, you have nerves of steel (think Basil in the Fawlty kitchens), a strong stomach for blood, gore, and dripping, and high tolerance of cuss words and adolescent antics (think the BBC’s Bottom, or Men Behaving Badly), along with a love of haute cuisine sans frou frou, you will enjoy Anthony Bourdain’s tell all memoir, Kitchen Confidential. If you aren’t obsessed by exquisite food, amused by toilet humour and punkish slapstick, and don’t find the lives of the overworked, overpaid, talented, corrupt, and derelict cooks who turn out delicate dishes in New York’s fancy restaurants to be of interest, stop here.
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