I had lots and lots of time to read on our trip.
So I did.
One of the first was Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential. I’ve never made a secret that I love Anthony Bourdain and would let Miss Carol have his child.
So it’s really no surprise that I loved his book. Gosh, dude, honestly? I mean WTF, right?
Kitchen Confidential is an autobiographical jog through Tony’s early years. Through his young chefness and debutante days- moving from restaurant to restaurant, living in dumps and honing his cooking craft and his storytelling.
It’s also a book about his drug and alcohol use, his coming of age, his becoming the Tony we know and love and watch, drooling like coke addicts a coupla hours short of a fix.
Or maybe that’s just me.
As a writer, Anthony Bourdain has one of those rare voices that’ll pull you in, that’ll wrap you up right and tight into his story. It’s magical.
I hate that he can write AND cook but, hey, the book is damn good and well worth the fifteen bucks and the time spent.
Catch it, baby.