Written by a chef working 17-hour days in a New York restaurant (when did he find the time?), this memoir supposedly exposes the “culinary underbelly.” I found it entertaining enough, but I wanted to know how a restaurant really works. Bourdain never really got his teeth into that. Instead, it was an amusing anecdote, an exaggeration designed to impress, an inside joke for his friends on each page. I thought 90 percent was faulty memory or just plain embellishment. And at the end, I didn’t know much more than when I started, other than that professional chefs look down on those of us who want to learn more about the restaurant business. But I will be fair: I did learn a few thing, and I was moderately entertained.

Not so glad about the purchase of this one. It was entertaining, sure, but not with the same wit as something like Heat, which covers a lot of the same ground more pleasantly. I guess the main thing I took away from it was a hint about plating – use an ice cream scoop for your starch, and squeezy bottles for your sauces! But OF COURSE!

Anthony Bourdain is a badass. That’s all I have to say.

I was really looking forward to this book because I heard it would tell me everything I DIDN’T want to know about what was going on back in the kitchen of most restaurants. I was looking for the book to relate to ME and tell me about things I am interested in.

Instead, I got a bunch of choppy stories that won’t name names or places and seem to be hazy at best in their recollection. I’m not saying Tony is a bad writer; I think he’s pretty darned good at writing. It’s just that in order to protect the not-so-innocent, he has to blur out all the details.

He seems to be fixated on fish, which I can’t stand and most of the first part of the book only offers advice on what sort of fish you should stay away from in restaurants and when. I did like the chapter on Bigfoot, but everything else about the book was a bore.