Kitchen not-so-confidential

One of my favorite reads of 2006, was definitely Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential. Lent to me by a fellow who, as me, thoroughly enjoys the methodology behind the act of eating.

I had seen Anthony Bourdain on television, but it wasn't until I read the book, that I realized how big of a bad-ass this guy is.

One thing that stood out through his preface and some of the chapters, was his adamant dislike of the Food Network. Hilariously enough, in an updated version, he talks about his meetings with some great chefs of whom he had spoken not too kindly in his book, being completely nice to him and inviting him out to dinner, some even cooking for him!

Well today, through Serious Eats, I came across a blog entry of his where he monsoons down upon the FN once more. I find it highly entertaining.

They have nothing newer, or fresher or better - after all that time - than my first, stumbling, nascent attempts at making travel/food television? They don't have any material from anyone else - like from someone who doesn't make constant rude and obscene suggestions about their stable of "stars?" Surely they haven't reached so far down the bottom of the archives as to want ME back?! [Serious Eats via Eater]

On his blog entry he goes on to describe his conspiracy theories, of why the Food Network would be rerunning his old series "A Cook's Tour", right as his Travel Channel series No Reservations is about to air.

They're not putting the show back on because they like it. They're trying to destroy me!" I theorized. People will surely comment on the striking - even horrifying - decline in my appearance since those few years ago - and will wonder why they would still watch someone who is clearly dying of some hideous hair whitening, skin puffing, tropical bloating disease. Or maybe they're putting it back on as a deliberate strategy to break off and confuse a segment of potential audience who might otherwise be tuning in to the exciting new season of NO RESERVATIONS (the vastly superior and more expensive series on TRAVEL CHANNEL)! Maybe ... maybe it's vengeance for some of the Rachael Ray cracks. [Anthony Bourdain's Blog]

This is exactly the kind of stuff that made Kitchen Confidential such an entertaining book for me. Well, that and his massive sexually-charged, drug-hazed, violent kitchen tales that make me want become a chef. Check out his book if you get a chance. If you're not really the reading type, check out his cook book (which is going on my wish list) and cook something up.

If you so desire, I'm always down to go check out the D.C. version of his fantastic NYC restaurant Les Halles.

So good I forgot to eat

For as long as I can remember, I've enjoyed reading. Sometimes it takes me a while to finish a book. Sometimes I fly through them.

One thing I have noticed in my years of reading is that there are writers out there that like to include meals in their books. Vivid imagery of dinners past. Detailing into even the spices and herbs on plates. food you can smell and taste just off the text.

My most vivid memory of a book's food description would have to be Diego El Rojo, a coming of age, biographical story of a young Diego Rivera (my favorite Mexican muralist, for more reasons than just his art) and his rise to fame and communist idealism. Written by his daughter, Guadalupe Rivera Marin.

She delves into details of Mexican family breakfasts and European meals revolving around bottles of wine. Describes even what seems to be the texture of the cheeses sprinkled on top of the beans and the green enchiladas. Until this point, I had not read anything, I don't think, that talked so much (and so well) about aliments.

I have now finished reading another book, given to me by a friend for my birthday, which reminded me quite a bit of Diego El Rojo. Not by characters nor story-line, but by the foods consumed by the characters.

Catfish and Mandala takes you in a journey through both time and continents. Retelling the story of the author, Andrew X. Pham. Part autobiography, part memoir, part journal. Andrew travels from Vietnam to the United States with his parents after the fall of Saigon in 75, coming to the States as a young immingrant (something I immediately felt akin to), not even knowing how to speak the language. He tells his tales of displaced childhood in a country of strangers.

He also recounts his travels trying to find his roots, biking from California to Washington. Biking Japan and Vietnam, in search of himself and his background. His adventures and realizations of his home country transcend him, his take on life, and Vietnam as a whole.

Through the entire book, Pham describes meals eaten through out his whole trip, from campfire meals in the desert of Mexico to Vietnamese style feasts at family reunions in California to rice cakes and beating cobra hearts in Vietnam.

There's a part in the book, which made me laugh a little to myself as well as take me back to growing up, visiting friend's houses, and roaming through their refrigerators (as well as my fridge in Austin).

Cu-Den banged us a skillet of scrambled eggs, fried Spam, and steamed rice. It was all we could rake out of Cu-Den's sorriest-looking fridge on the planet. The thing was loaded with relish, horseradish, salad dressing, teriyaki sauce, mayonaisse, ketchup, mustard, and not a damn thing to slather the condiment galore on. We doused Cu-Den's special rice with fishsauce and chili paste and gobbled it up. We were going to need full stomachs to fight the Mexican homeboys who were a lot tougher than the redneck football players. [Catfish and Mandala]

The book is no less than a masterpiece. Such a human take it on it all that you can't help but relate to his stories, whether or not you're Vietnamese. So well written, you'll fly through the pages like a hot knife through butter. I feel like I've been to Vietnam and back. Pick it up if you get a chance.