bookmate game
en

Anthony Bourdain

A​​nthony Michael Bourdain was an American chef, author, broadcaster, and travel documentarian who starred in programs focusing on the exploration of international culture and cuisine. Born in New York he was one of the world’s first and most influential celebrity chefs. He became known for his bestsellers Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly (2000) and A Cook's Tour: In Search of the Perfect Meal (2001).

Bourdain's first book, a culinary mystery Bone in the Throat, was published in 1995. He paid for his book tour but was not successful. His second mystery book, Gone Bamboo, also performed poorly in sales. By that time he was already an established professional and became an executive chef at Brasserie Les Halles in Manhattan in 1998.

After two published crime novels Bourdain also began contributing magazine articles. A piece for the New Yorker, Don’t Eat Before Reading This (1999), formed the basis of his breakthrough book, the bestseller Kitchen Confidential (2000).

The book itself is more a collection of essays than a solid narrative. "For all the rock’n’roll, the easy, sleazy charm, the guy wrote like a poet and, as he got older, he just got better."

Bourdain's career followed the success of the book. He began working with television producer Lydia Tenaglia and broadcasted A Cook's Tour on The Food Network in 2002, when his next book of the same title, combining food and travel, came out.

Anthony Bourdain went on to write books: a collection of anecdotes and essays, a historical investigation, and even the graphic novel Get Jiro! which he co-wrote with Joel Rose. All of them were quite successful.

His articles and essays also appeared in many publications, including The New Yorker, The New York Times, The Observer, Gourmet, Maxim, Esquire, etc. His blog for the third season of Top Chef was nominated for a Webby Award for Best Blog in 2008.

Anthony Bourdain also was the host of the popular Emmy and Peabody Award-winning television show Parts Unknown.

But there was another side to Bourdain's life.

Bourdain was born in New York and grew up in New Jersey. His mother, Gladys, was an editor at the New York Times, and his father, Pierre, an executive at Columbia Records. By his own account, they exposed him to great music, film, and literature, and holidayed in France where his interest in food was sparked.

Bourdain was a 1978 graduate of The Culinary Institute of America and a veteran of many of New York city’s kitchens during his career. Most of that time he was addicted to drugs and moved among the semi-criminal community that characterized the restaurant scene of the time. The chef's relationship with money was also complicated.

“I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging about this,” he told Wealth Simple, “but the sad fact is, until 44 years of age, I never had any kind of savings account. I’d always been under the gun. I’d always owed money. I’d always been selfish and completely irresponsible.”

So, as many notes, Kitchen Confidential was the original handbook for toxic masculinity in the kitchen. But with the appearance of this book, Bourdain tried to be the best version of himself, and he succeeded.

However, Anthony Bourdain ended his life by committing suicide in a hotel room in Paris.
leveår: 25 juni 1956 8 juni 2018

Stemme

Serier

Citater

Anahar citeretfor 2 år siden
In my kitchens, I'm in charge, it's always my ship, and the tenor, tone and hierarchy - even the background music - are largely my doing. A chef who plays old Sex Pistols songs while he breaks down chickens for coq au vin is sending a message to his crew, regardless of his adherence to any Escoffier era merit system.
Anahar citeretfor 2 år siden
Scott Bryan, like me, happily refers to himself as a 'marginal' character. When he says 'marginal', you can hear his hometown of Brookline, Massachusetts, in his voice, the same accent you hear in body shops and Irish bars in 'Woostah', 'New Bedfahd,' 'Glahsta,' and Framingham. Scott uses the term 'dude' a lot, though, which leads one to believe there might be surf in Boston. When I dropped by to see him recently, passing first through his stylishly sparse sixty-five-seat dining room, past his four sommeliers - count them, four - through a kitchen staffed by serious-looking young Americans in buttoned-up Bragard jackets with the Veritas logo stitched on their breasts and chef wear MC Hammer pants, down a flight of stairs, I found him wrapping a howitzer-sized log of foiegras in cheesecloth. He was wearing a short-sleeved dishwasher shirt, snaps done up to the collar, Alice In Chains blaring in the background. I took inordinate comfort from this, thinking, 'I do that! Maybe we're not so different!' But, of course, we are very different, as you shall see.

Scott grew up in what he calls a 'housing development - a project, really', unlike me, who grew up in a leafy green wonderland of brick colonial homes, distant lawn-mowers, backyard croquet games, gurgling goldfish ponds and Cheever-esque cocktail parties. Scott went to Brook line High, a public school where the emphasis seems to have been on technical skills; they had a culinary program and a restaurant open to the public. I went to private school, a tweedy institution where kids wore Brooks Brothers jackets with the school seal and Latin motto (Veritas fortissimo) on the breast pocket. Scott learned early that he might have to actually work for a living, whereas I, a product of the New Frontier and Great Society, honestly believed that the world pretty much owed me a living - all I had to do was wait around in order to live better than my parents.

At an age when I was helping to rack up my friends' parents' expensive automobiles and puking up Boone's Farm on Persian carpets, Scott was already working - for Henry Kinison at the Brook line High restaurant. He was doing it for money. Junior year, he took a job in a 'Hungarian Continental' joint, and as a fishmonger at Boston's Legal Seafood. One worked, and that was it. Scott, though still unmoved by the glories of food, found that he preferred cooking to his other imagined career option: electrical engineer or electrician.
Anahar citeretfor 2 år siden
Like me, Scott is conflicted on the issue of the French. We like to minimize their importance, make fun of their idiosyncrasies.'It's a different system over there,' he said, talking about the work habits of the surrender-monkey. 'You start young. For the first ten years of your career, you get your ass kicked. They work you like a dog. So, when you finally get to be a sous-chef, or a chef, your working life is pretty much over. You walk around and point.' Putting a last twist on his foiegras torpedo, he shrugged. 'Socialism, man. It's not good for cooks.'

But when he sees bad technique, technique that's not French, it's torture. As Scott well knows - and would be the first to admit - as soon as you pick up a chef's knife and approach food, you're already in debt to the French. Talking about one of the lowest points in his career, a kitchen in California, he described going home every night 'ashamed, and a little bit angry', because 'the technique was bad . . . it wasn't French!

They may owe us a big one for Omaha Beach, but let's face it, without my stinky ancestors we'd still be eating ham steak with pineapple ring. Scott knows this better than anybody.
fb2epub
Træk og slip dine filer (ikke mere end 5 ad gangen)