popplers

More Books about Buildings and Food

This weekend, I finally started Ruth Reichl's Tender at the Bone: Growing Up at the Table. I've read a few chapters, and so far I like it more than Comfort Me with Apples (although that really isn't saying much). Tender at the Bone is a memoir, telling the story of Ruth's childhood culinary influences; I've just reached the part where she is sent to a French-speaking boarding school in Montreal. (It actually preceded Comfort Me with Apples— I just happened to read them out-of-order.)

The same person who loaned me Tender at the Bone also loaned me Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly. Just now, I opened to a random chapter in the middle of the book, read a few pages, and I am hooked. Bourdain on the three types of line cooks: Artists, Exiles, and Mercenaries (those who "do it for cash and do it well"):

Practicing your craft in expert fashion is noble, honorable, and satisfying. And I'll generally take a stand-up mercenary who takes pride in his professionalism over an artist any day. When I hear 'artist', I think of someone who doesn't think it necessary to show up at work on time. More often than not their efforts, convinced as they are of their own genius, are geared more to giving themselves a hard-on than satisfying the great majority of dinner customers. Personally, I'd prefer to eat food that tastes good and is an honest reflection of its ingredients, than a 3-foot-tall caprice constructed from lemon grass, lawn trimmings, coconuts and red curry. You could lose an eye trying to eat that. When a job applicant starts telling me how Pacific Rim-job cuisine turns him on and inspires him, I see trouble coming. Send me another Mexican dishwasher anytime. I can teach him to cook. I can't teach character. Show up at work on time six months in a row and we'll talk about red curry paste and lemon grass. Until then, I have four words for you: 'Shut the fuck up.'

Posted by rv at February 25, 2006 02:02 PM to book | food