bookclub banter: lets discuss heat
Hello dear readers! About a month or so, we decided that Heat: An Amateur’s Adventures as a Kitchen Slave, Line Cook, Pasta Maker, and Apprentice to a Dante-Quoting Butcher in Tuscany
From Angela M.
I enjoyed this book so much, I’m sad that it’s finished. Buford dove head first into his saga and takes you right with him. First, he spends a year or so working his way through the ranks in Mario Batali’s kitchen at Babbo. Then he goes off to Tuscany to learn butchery. I have to say, it’s changed the way I look at restaurants, and has given me a new, deep appreciation of all those invisible kitchen workers that slave away behind the scenes. It’s also changed the way I look at meat (Who knew you could do so much with one pig?) and has me craving a trip to Italy in the worse way.
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From Beth J.
One of the things I’m enjoying most about Heat is Buford’s Everyman role in the kitchen. He’s no pro, but rather an enthusiastic amateur — and so his experiences in the Babbo kitchen feel like they would be mine or yours. (Unless you’re actually a cook — I’m decidedly not.) A perfect example: On the first day in the kitchen he cuts his finger. Of course!
The part I enjoyed most about this book was learning all about Mario Batali from the perspective of his kitchen. I watch his cooking shows all the time, but never really get a good sense of him. Buford definiely fills it in.
The genre–cooks writing about cooking–has been somewhat saturated lately, but this book’s novice perspective really brings a new glimer to the kitchen.
For those seeking the Cliff Notes version, Buford wrote a great New Yorker piece (April? May?) about trying to butcher a full pig in his Manhattan apartment.
I agree with the first post- I was very disappointed when I finished it because I thought it was such a great book. I couldn’t put it down-I read from start to finish in four hours.
While I loved the story, I found it a bit odd that he would leap right into Mario Batali’s kitchen without even knowing how to use tongs so that you don’t burn your fingers horribly.
Maybe that was just for some extra color…
It’s funny.. so much of this book is centered around Mario Batali — after all he really is the Buford’s inspiration for the whole journey. But I felt that you never really get to know Mario. He’s an elusive figure who breezes in and out of the kitchen, occasionally making a profound observation though usually hopelessly ignorant to what’s going on with his staff. But the REAL character of this book, in my opinion, is Dario Cecchini. Even though I have never seen or heard him, I feel as though I have such a clear image of what he is like. I love the singing! Though it would be a little intimidating — god, forbid you ask the wrong question! — it would be amazing to visit his shop in Panzano. If you’ve ever spent any time in a small town in Tuscany, you know that Buford nails the experience.
I’ve got one more chapter to go, and I’m savoring the final pages.
Still, I have a few thoughts. I actually found Buford’s naiveté in the kitchen quite endearing. His gaffes made the story that much more accessible to an amateur cook like me, and I admire his bravery–not sure I could ever take that kind of abuse.
In some ways, Heat reminds me of Kitchen Confidential–that raw inside account of life behind the line. But Bourdain, while highly entertaining, is so sadistically amused by everything and so insider-y in his prose, that I felt like an observer more than a participant while reading it. What I appreciate about Buford is his pedestrian approach, which pulls the reader in with him to experience a bumpy ride of humiliations and surprises.
On another note, did anyone else feel that Buford’s implicit assertion that he packed up his literary career to be a kitchen slave had a slightly misleading ring to it? Yes, he did give up a desk job, but I had to keep reminding myself that Buford is a very accomplished writer/editor and no doubt had a lucrative book deal to carry him through this work-for-free experience.
Although I never made it all the way through (work and life keep taking me away), this book had a huge effect on my just-beginning-to-cook self. I have started to touch meat with my fingers to see if it is cooked yet, save pasta water to add into sauce, and think intensely about the ravioli from Caputo’s before I eat it. I admire Bill Buford for throwing himself into the kitchen of a highly competitive restaurant and truly working his way up, rather than just observing to write a book about it. I also admire his wife for seeing him through this crazy, mid-life-crisisish project!
SO when do we pick the next book?