bourdain

A solid culinary education is a tremendous advantage--particularly since the schools have gotten so much better. You learn basic skills, history, chemistry of food, a common language and terminology that will be very very useful later on--and you hopefully develop connections which will prove useful when looking for a stage later in life. But a degree is nowehere near enough. Real world dishwashing experience BEFORE even bothering to apply to school--and real experience in a high volume place--where you learn to move, to prioritize, to set up meez--and where you find out whether or not you even REALLY want to be in the business--is is invaluable and even necessary. I aslo recommend that (unlike myself) immediately upon leaving school, graduates work for free--or near free for the best possible kitchen they can beg, plead or harangue their way into. This sort of experience is what changes one's whole trajectory, sets standards and plumps resumes, allowing one to move into the big leagues and stay there later. Can you do completely without school? Sure. It's done all the time. But it's a hell of a lot harder--and the opportunities fewer. Just look and see how many Mexican chefs of French restaurants there are (in spite of the fact that Mexicans are hugely represented as cooks in fine restaurants) and you'll see what I mean. There's a glass ceiling--above which it's very hard to move--and ambitious cooks can use every advantage they can get. Cooking school is one of them.

Hard question--particularly for a chef. But I'll be honest. Given a choice between eating at the French Laundry with say...Al Gore...and cheap BBQ with someone I love--or a good friend--or someone I admire but have never met--like Nick Tosches, there's no contest. Company counts for a lot. I'd have to give it the edge in almost every case.

Too many people have bad memories of Mom insisting that they eat ineptly prepared liver as a duty--because "It's good for you!" Many, who grew up in poor households do not have fond memories of chitterlings or guts of any kind as it brings to mind harder times. And because since post war years--Americans have had very limited exposure to offal--because they didn't have to see it. A newly wealthy country, the US pretty much banished the good stuff from shelves in favor of boneless chicken breast, sirloin and "branded" cuts. The guts went to our burgeoning market for cats and dogs. It's a shame. If you look at old American menus from the turn of the century, we used to eat like heros. Nearly every menu began with raw shellfish, terrapin soup..and included game and offal course, ox hearts, brains, tripes, kidneys or the like. Mario B has it exactly right when he again and again points out that greart cuisines grew up from poverty and very real ecomonic needs. When that need disappears, so does the need (and cooking skills) required to deal brilliantly with the "nasty bits". Now, we only eat the hoocves and snouts an guts when they cost a lot and are made to look pretty in fancy restaurants with name chefs--as if it's exotica.

I'm assuming/hoping yes. There are indeed a few episodes left to run: the Portugal pig-killin' show, another Portugese show shot in Porto and the Duro Valley which ends in France with tete de veau and foie..a Really good (I think) Spanish show with Arzak, all-male gastro society and tapas crawl...and the Scottish show....I'm told they're rescheduling to prime time in July sometime--so maybe they're saving them up. Just don't know--and neither does NYT who produced them. I am, God help me, thinking seriously about doing a few more new shows to be shot end of year: Bahia in Brazil....Thailand..Australia...but we'll see.

Money up front--for a limited time--with opportunity to renew--and much bigger money beginning the day principal photography begins. That's usually the way it works.

There has always been a powerful element of hustler in chefs. The restaurant business-particularly at the top end--has always been to one degree or another, "show business". If you've ever watched a dining room being set up for dinner, you know this...Or watched a chef walk from the kitchen into the dining room, his posture, his whole bearing transformed into a cheerier, more important more acceptable version of himself. The phenomanon good or bad? I don't know. It's annoying, sure. And few of us really understand why its happening...but it's probably a good thing. Even the evil spuds with the happy shows are probably a force (however unwittingly) for good in that anything that gets people more interested in better food--cooking more and better--eating out in restaurants more--and giving people like me money--is a good thing, right? I mean who better to have a nice score waiting for them at the end of the rainbow than chefs? Even the guys who sell their names and open joints in airports probably deserve a few bucks after all those years in the kitchen. I may no be able to watch the excrutiating Wolfgang Puck--and I may not eat in his joints--but he's a significant guy..with an amazing career behind him--a man of real accomplishments (as is, I suppose, is Emeril). For whatever reason, cooking has become a "glamor" profession--a job with an actual future in it--for a lot of people who'd probably otherwise be sticking up liquor stores. There has never been a better time to be eating in America--and there has certainly never been a better time to be cooking in America. If that's partly a result--or a byproduct of the celebrity chef thing--then it's worth enduring.

I've really only read Lester Bangs--when his columns were in Creem and elsewhere. It wasn't until pretty recently that I read Carburator Dung and then his bio--Let It Blurt. He was a remarkable writer--so if anything, I'm flattered. Nik Cohn and the others I haven't read. Should I?

I forget...Probably chiding a slacking busboy--or a distracted pastry assistant who should have been helping the saladero.

I don't know. I just didn't like the overwhelming perfume of undercooked pignoles..the dried fruit..the cream sauce. It was too sweet for me. Matter of taste I suppose. Just about everything else in Mexico I loved.

How do I feel about all this? Hey. It beats cleaning 40 pounds of squid at a clip. It's easier.

Yeah..I've seen it happen. Generally large parties--over 7 people. --And tables of Known Most-Likely To Stiff Waiter status. Approval to add a 15% surcharge is approved or denied in advance by the manager--on a case by case basis. Usually--and I mean almost always when a table is whacked the 15%, they notice it on the check, then add a few percent more on top . A full double tip cause of an unnoticed service charge? Sure. It happens. But often? No way. We like repeat customers at Les Halles. You knowingly gouge people--like you imply we are-- and customers don't come back. They tell people about it. When a clear case of double-tipping occurs--the GM--who reviews all the tickets and charges the next day--and reconciles with the box and the computer--will call up customers from their credit card information and enlighten them of the fact--offering a refund or credit. Most of the waiters at Les Halles have been there for years and years . You don't stay busy with a line out the fucking door ripping off your customers.

I'd have to go with Bobby. For the sheer surprise factor.--he'd have to be first. As he is the most physically fit of the bunch. Best to whack him when he's not looking--from behind--as he's probably stronger than me and in better shape--and I don't want a paranoid, potentially dangerous Flay--in a highly alert state of agitation, looking at my scrawny ass--and thinking about throwing me off the damn thing... Emeril is good weight value--I agree. But I think I could get him off the baloon any time. Jamie stays. I can always trade him for cigarettes or comissary later.

Tim, Ronnie. Hola! Film of KC? I have no idea. I try not to think about, get hopeful, be involved in any way. The studio has re-optioned it,,,a new director, I believe is on it. I know nothing more--and try, very deliberately, to remain ignorant of the status of the "project" as it all seems like poisoned candy out there. Both Bone and Bamboo have been optioned many times--and I guess I know better than to get too jacked on anything I do hear.As they say: Assume the worst. You will never be disappointed.

John; Under advice of counsel I can say that the Dreadnaught sure resembles the Flagship of old--and Mario's is indeed oddly similar to Ciro and Sal's. Tyrone resembles James Luster who now owns the place. And Howard Mitchum was indeed a great man. Didn't know Sal--as the Ciro's crew rarely associated with the competition (they were secretly regarded by all of us with respect as they were often said to be better. )

CT in the UK? Sure. When they offer enough to cover the costs of editing and format transfer for release there (the versions exist--7 extra minutes per show--none especially riveting). So far, the cheap fucks haven't offered any real money that I know of. . And they wonder why so many restaurants whack Brits a 15 percent service compris when they eat in NY. (Maybe if there were a Sainsbury' tie-in.....or if I sewed a veal tongue into my mouth) I'm still reasonably hopeful. It would be good for mass market PB sales.

I doubt any of it will ever see the light of day. The bloody stuff..the pig-fisting..the vomiting..the street kids in Phnom Penh and East LA and Vietnam and Mexico looking at the lens and chanting (as prompted) "Emeril Isa MY BITCHA!!" I regret the likelyhood that I'll never see all the gorgeous "B-Roll" essentially endless hours of lush, atmospheric scenery--in Cambodia and Vietnam for instance that I would love to have--and see--but would probably be of little interest to anyone but me. There are definitely plenty of mostly humiliating "comedy moments" somewhere-but probably best left unseen. Me. drunkenly singing Tony Bennett's Rags To Riches to the VC...the producer jumping naked into the ice in Russia--his testicles instantly shrinking to pignole size while he screamed "Don't shoot my dick! Don't shoot my dick!!" And Zamir and me off camera yelling "Don't worry. It's gone." I think he destroyed that tape--it would have been on the internet by now if the editors had seen it. To their credit--Food Net actually called for very few cuts I know about--most were done by the production company--and I frankly was too beat, too tired, too exhausted and too lazy to fight for inclusion of more blood or more profanity...I saved any juice I had for inisting on a much longer French Laundry segment--and a general refusal to "get happy' when I was in fact miserably chawing on iguana for instance. Other than the portentious narration (What Was I Thinking?) during the title sequence--and a few other low moments or instances where I was just too beat to care when voice over deviated from the text of earlier transcribed off the cuff on scene rants..I'm pretty proud of the show on balance

I have spent a fair amount of time on cold tile floors during the filming/writing of CT. But only France nearly killed me. And I honestly believe that food should be an adventure--an essential part of travel and experience. What's the worst thing that can happen? You get sick. You get sweats and chills..Weighed against all the marvelous, magical, happy accidents and discoveries in this big, beautiful, dirty, cruel, wonderful you might miss if you shrink from taking chances--the benefits outweigh the occasional punishments. A little bacteria on a regular basis is good thing--keeps your resistance up. The smell of a Cambodian market? Durian, chicken shit. Frightened animals..Fish sauce...fish...sweat...cigarettes..incense...spices...moldy canvas...frying ginger and garlic and pork...simmering stock...tripe...You get to like it. Smells vary widely from country to country. Mexico's markets smell great..

It seems everyone smokes in Japan. Tsukiji market smells of seawater and cigarette smoke--with a hint of fresh fresh fish..Remember, the same culture that smokes likes chimneys also brings you kaiseki, edomae sushi and an appreciation of raw toro. It seems somehow inappropriate to criticize when our own relatively smoke free culture has no such tradition of maniacal appreciation of food and ingredients. It would be ludicrous to insist that the rest of the world conform to "our" values--when they often see us as pitiably without culture or appreciation. Ask for the non-smoking section in a Paris restaurant and you will often find yourself seated surrounded entirely by other Americans. Is that any way to live? Most chefs I know smoke. Including a hell of a lot of famous ones. They just don't do it on camera. And yes. It does affect the palate. A lot of us underseason--erring on the side of safety with customers as we ourselves love a lot of salt and crunchy black pepper and are afraid of blowing the patrons out.

I refer you to my gushy chapter on the subject in CT. Easy answer, though? Other than the perfectionist, creativity, uncompromising stuff? He has an understanding and appreciation of human nature--what it takes to make people feel nurtured and nourished--at the same time as they are impressed, surprised and delighted.

Goddamn right! Line cooks are, have been--and always will be overlooked, underpaid, misunderstood, semi-invisible creatures. You will notice--that most "foodies" and food writers--have no idea who actually cooks their food--and often betray a most unlovely dislike for cooks--on the rare occasions that they get to meet them or hear from them. Hesser's comment somewhere that most of the cooks she knows are college educated (if I recall the comment correctly) is a particularly good example of this. It's a class thing. Cooks..and even chefs are backstairs help. We are servers..in the "hospitality industry". We see the public at their best and worst--just like the servants in Gosford Park. And they know we do. Cooks instinctively feel this and know this--and more often then not--relish their apartness. Chefs may be flavor of the decade now..but it's probably smart to keep all this in mind when suddenly celebrityhairdressers are the thing to be again. Chefs who don't appreciate their cooks--who think they are somehow better than their cooks cause they got a nicer jacket and get to hang out at the bar have their heads hopelesly up their asses--and deserve flaying, flogging and the pillary. "Artists"? "Conceptual geniuses?" Please. Othe than a few rare examples of real artist..there is no reinventing the wheel--and nothing new under the sun--just a few new spokes now and again..as my pal Donovan says.

Out from Canongate (in the UK) in November: BOBBY GOLD. A novella: Synopsis: Sensitive but brutish bouncer/bonebreaker Bobby Gold tries to do his enforcing work for old college friend Eddie Fish with a minimum of force, priding himself on his technical precision yet increasingly sickened by the job. At the midtown nightclub where he is security chief, he falls in love with Nikki, a slutty, tomboyish, alcoholic line cook. Tragedy, love violence and mayhem ensue.

It would have about 85 seats..and would basically be a dupe of St John in London. Bare white walls, no bullshit menu..lots of pork fat, duck fat..a chef-friendly bar...a deep pocketed silent investor and a good bartender. Tracy Westmoreland of Siberia would be the GM. Fergus Henderson would be consulting chef. Everyone I ever liked to work with would have a job--and the place would specialize in late night service to just-off work chefs and restaurant folk--who would of course, drink for free. A recipe for bankruptcy, si? If I have two functioning neurons left..I would never open my own place.

) VietnamVietnam Vietnam..You know how pheronomes work? How you meet a woman, there's an attraction beyond attraction--a feeling--a smell that just feels right? A chemical neurotransmitter endorphin dopamine thing I think...Vietnam was like that for me. I was enchanted. 2) I travel, keeping a quick, hand written journal in rare momnts of lucidity. Back in New York, I wake up early--as always--and rewrite, After a first real draft--I run away for as long as I can to the Caribbean and do a polished draft. After that its fact -checking, galleys, final corrections, last edits. As you can probably tell from all the typos and errors in my books--its a quick, often sloppy process with me. I am always at war with my Inner Lazy Hippie.

Simon..as you well know--I consider myself first and foremost--and at all times-- very lucky line cook and chef who put down a very nice score. After 28 years on the line? I will always look at the world--and at myself from that point of view. When I imagine a reader, while writing--I imagine noone else but overworked cooks. I may swan around the world talking about myself, spend little time in my kitchen anymore, and engage in pretentious voice-overs on TV, but it is waay to late to see the world any differently than from the perspective of cook/hustler/opportunist/chef. In many ways, having been a dope fiend was really good training for a career in television and publishing. You know--viscerally-always--how low you are really willing to go--should circumstances require. Any time I think "This is humiliating" or "this is beneath me", its nice to quickly realize--"Compared to WHAT??!" Bruch...working a lunch counter..dead end restaurants, nightclubs, salad jobs..are still fresh memories --and I know full well I might come that way again....So answer is: Chef..who writes..who took his opportunities here he saw them. You cheeky fuck.

Oh God...thanks for reminding me of bad old days...At WPA in Soho in the 70's I was besotted with what I believed to be "nouvelle cuisine". This led to Criminal Misuse of pink peppercorns, Assault with Kiwi , Large Plate Syndrome...various unseemly attempts at "fusion"..Later overreaching involved a giant raviolone of brandade, crabmeat and lobstr in a tomato beurre--a nice dish in a ravioli size--but tough like shoes draped over the plate when Dino-sized..I dimly recall (shudder) some hideous spring rolls...In my defense, by the 90's I was smart enough to stick with the old school...steal recipes outright..and downscale or strip down the presentations to the kind of high volume, less fragile, less fin stuff I'm better at. I still insist I make a king-hell osso bucco ..and my daube of beef provencale (made with "paleron") I'll put up against anybody's.