Kitchen Confidential

Seeking Understanding

At the time of writing this, the name Anthony Bourdain has already become synonymous with this prophetic figure who appeals to a certain kind of male archetype. Coincidentally I share a lot of the same traits with said male archetype. His life and lessons have become an easily replaceable set of mantra’s that you can parrot to make yourself seem far more cultured than you are. I’ll attribute the bulk of this to the brashness with which he deals with topics that are otherwise held in great esteem or tip-toed around. His ideals are easily digestible, and come of as suave to any reader/listener. I was not any different.

I can’t remember why it was that I picked up this book, my best guess is that I came across his name through my time on the internet and had my curiosity piqued. So whilst I can’t confirm that his influence on me was cultivated authentically, I can confirm that his influence on me was substantial.

Kitchen Confidential is a supremely written whirlwind that dances between frantic descriptive vignettes, unapologetic confessions of the inner workings of the culinary world and surprisingly tender epiphanies from a man who has digested more than most.

Bourdain manages to write at breakneck pace that demands your attention. His prose feeling almost poetic. You can practically hear his narration in your mind as your eyes skim the words. He tells stories of privateers, adventurers, criminals and lovers. All of whom use the kitchen as their stage. Each story expertly picked and trimmed of fat. Leaving pure dramatic impact.

As though he knows exactly when he has you by the throat, he manages to sneak in these tender moments of gravitas. Showing light to some beautiful moments of humanity. Showing that the world is full of “mostly good people trying to do their best”.

If there is one thing that I ended up taking away from this read, and my subsequent time with “A Cook’s Tour” then it’s a willingness to have ‘new’ experiences. Whether they happen to be fun, or otherwise. To meet people where they live, and to try and walk a minute in their shows. My entire life until this book, I had grown up vegetarian. Not for any moral obligation, but because it was all that I ever knew. His argument for accepting the food that people have had to eat culturally and taking part in their traditions was probably what convinced me to get out there and accept new gastronomic delights.

P.S.

The chapter on his time in Tokyo probably stands as one of my favourite chapters in my literary memory.