Medium Raw–Anthony Bourdain

Whomp. Whomp.

    That’s pretty much the noise I would associate with this book. Which breaks my heart and busts my balls at the same time. I’m a huge fan of Chef Bourdain. I watch his show, I’ve read his other books and I’ve taken what he’s said to heart about what it means to be a good chef. Hell, I’ve even tried some of the stuff he’s said to do with recipes.

   I’m not a super fan where I would stalk and maim him, but if I met him I would definitely be starstruck. If I ever did meet him, in the back of my mind I would be thinking ‘Medium Raw was not my favourite.’

   Didn’t hate it, didn’t love it. It just seemed like he was bitching about the same things he always does. Jamie Oliver and Bobby Flay, for one thing. Tourists for another. And the fact that we are all drowning in franchises that don’t give a crap about how food is produced. He talked continually about traveling abroad and what torture it can be and how much better it is eating in Spain.  Not to mention how people of Spanish decent are usually the best cooks, even if they are making French cuisine.

   I’ve heard all this before. I’ve read all this before. The only thing that seems different is the new list of things he hates. (Which is ever growing.)

Again, like with The Nasty Bits, maybe I just wasn’t in the mood for his bitchiness. Usually, I dig it. But this just seemed repetitive of his older stuff and not up to par with what I expect from a famous writer and chef. He’s consistent though, it’s still good writing, I just wanted a different story.

    Constant vigilance.

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