Like most cooks, the first food writing I ever got a hold of (and took hold me) was Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential. That book kick-started a quest for more of the same, finding only more of Mr. Bourdain’s gospel but not much else. It’s nice to read words about what you do for a living that have been written by someone who understands it. He provides an editorial voice to the craft that has yet to be replicated, and it is a stark contrast to the other forms of writing on the subject.
My main issue with most food publications is that their pages are saturated with articles that read something like Penthouse Letters that don’t go any further than first base. I don’t think I can handle yet another article about going out the the ____ fields, picking your own ____s, going home and baking ____ pies, and eventually making sweet sweet love with them. If you would kindly extend your sustainable practices to both ink and paper (by not using either, ever, especially together), it would be greatly appreciated. Save the trees? Save my brains, please.
Photographers can’t be forgiven for taking pictures of chefs in their whites at the market while holding armfuls of seasonal produce. That’s not a smile, friends; that’s a grimace. They look less like the tyrants that I’m sure they are, and more like pets on Halloween (see: petsthatwanttokillthemselves.com). It’s a damned shame that proper chefs never have the time to write down their stories. There’s plenty of room in this world for anecdotes about the time the dishwasher found a human arm in the dumpster, or that other time when that student managed to burn the back of his neck with a baking sheet.
In Utopia, restaurant critics are both impartial and completely anonymous. The combination of the two makes them a) relevant, and b) great. Unfortunately, in our world unbiased criticism is about as real as the Easter Bunny. Anonymity, however, is not impossible. I’ve seen the 1997 masterpiece (of shit) film Face/Off, and think that a similar procedure for you critics would prove quite useful. After all, your names are on the line too.
I get it. it’s supposed to be for customers, by customers. I’m complaining about words that aren’t directed towards folks like me. I just get tired of having to sift through so much bullshit to find something honest. I’d love to hear more from you people in the industry, talking shit and occasionally saying nice things. Just as long as you don’t write about the sunlight bathing your nubile body while you pick strawberries at your grandmother’s farm. Leave that garbage to the word fluffers.
Your Friendly Neighbourhood Line Cook,
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i was just “ranting” about this vary thing on twitter a couple of days ago.
way to call “them” out.
lol
and that is why when i talk to someone who is thinking about working in a kitchen I tell them, they better really think about it hah, it ain’t TV
Although Kitchen Confidential is an outstanding book and like you say has no equal – not your words – I would highly recommend the work of a few other authors that might provide you with further inspiration:
Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell. First published in 1933, Orwell provides incredible insight into the restaurant world that is shockingly similar to what still goes on today.
Dishwasher by Pete Jordan. A little cult classic written by a guy who went on the road for 12 years to fulfill a quest to wash dishes in all fifty states. Hilarious account from the often overlooked dishpig.