I have never eaten Anthony Bourdain's food. Perhaps it's wonderful. One would certainly hope so, so that he would have something to back up his unrelentingly abrasive manner--it's difficult to imagine him cooking anything other than La Nouvelle Jackass.
His claim that he thrives on kitchen chaos is borne out by the organization of the book-- his chronological accounts are frequently interrupted by macho tales of misadventures. A privileged kid who spent summers in France, and went to Vassar, Bourdain spends much of his subsequent life trying to prove he's a tough guy. He works in ratty fish houses, goes to the CIA, and embarks on a checkered career made even more spotty by a reliance on various pharmaceutical substances.
As a result, he comes across as unlikable, yet quotable. You've almost got to like a guy that is willing to take on Emeril Lagasse, the cash cow of the Food Network. And what can one learn about food from this book? Don't go to restaurants on Monday (they're usually using up old food), avoid cheap seafood (should be obvious), don't order meat well-done (unless you're willing to eat otherwise inedible bits), and don't work for Anthony Bourdain (unless you're a masochist).
Mr. Bourdain also writes fiction. For a sample, go to: http://www.barcelonareview.com/20/e_ab.h...
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