Tony.

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.

Anyway.

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.

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