Latest news with #KitchenConfidential
Irish Times
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Maybe what the world needs right now is another Anthony Bourdain
Like Anthony Bourdain, I am a little bit early. This August will mark 25 years of his memoir, Kitchen Confidential. But Bourdain was always two steps ahead. He still exists in most people's imaginations as 'the first celebrity chef' (Marco Pierre White or indeed the 19th century's Marie-Antoine Carême might have something to say on that); he pioneered, though didn't invent, the travelogue-cum-food television genre; he showed up for every appointment 20 minutes ahead of time, the New Yorker magazine's Helen Rosner once revealed. So it strikes me as fitting to mark Kitchen Confidential's anniversary two months in advance (though this is where mine and Bourdain's similarities begin and end). This is because it is in keeping with that enterprising spirit (I continue to flatter myself) and because the content of Bourdain's universe – the subject of his memoirs, his novels, his TV shows – is universal, always interesting and perhaps the only thing consistently relevant to every living person. READ MORE There is no bad time to write in tribute to Bourdain because there is no wrong time to think about food. Take, for example, his 2014 trip to Iran for the television show Parts Unknown. The country was escalating its incursion in Iraq and the social temperature was in flux (some controversially argued the regime was liberalising). Something was definitely changing (weeks after appearing on the show, two Iranian journalists were put in prison). But as Bourdain made clear, no matter the mutable weather of Iran – the friendliness of its people contrasted with the vitriol of its anti-American rhetoric – food remained the ancient and unchanging universal. [ Anthony Bourdain: The sceptical outsider baffled by fame ] And that was the soul of Bourdain: whether it was the tahdig he shared with the Iranian journalists, soon to be imprisoned; the cow's foot he ate in a Haitian enclave in Miami as Haiti itself was about to experience a devastating hurricane; or the maqluba he ate in Palestine in 2013. This was a marrying of the timely (the politics of the West Bank at the beginning of the 2010s) and the universal (the falafel made by everyone in the greater region); the ephemeral (the spectre of a liberalising Iran) and the material (the tahdig). Forget the pre-Socratics, Bourdain more than anyone understood this organising feature of the universe. I cannot help but think that if food was of central analytical importance, then – I was perhaps just too young to quantify seriously the extent of global upheaval in 2013 and 2014 – it must be all the more central now. But where is the Bourdain-redux eating borscht (with apologies for the regional stereotyping) with Ukrainians in Kyiv? Sharing a hamburger with Donald Trump just as he shared bun cha in Vietnam with Barack Obama? Proving the truth behind the mawkish and sentimental dreck that there is a culinary universal language? It needn't be so lofty, of course. In the long swooping arc of history the little things matter too. Yes, there is the goat stew that ties the 21st century Iranian with their ancient Persian forebears, linking ancestors through every political permutation of the country. Sure we can we think about the potato and its central importance to the trajectory of the Irish people – from the devastating Famine in the mid-1800s to source of a hackneyed and annoying stereotype in 2025. And what about the long shadow cast by Italy's historical Risorgimento movement on the culinary landscape of the Italian-American in New York today? Fine. But Bourdain was as concerned with the prosaic as he was with all of that stuff. It's not always about the shifting geopolitical sands, but the quotidian life of a restaurant; one not rendered any more or less interesting because of its location within or outside of a war zone. He struck fame in 1999 with his now-clichéd advice in the New Yorker that you shouldn't order fish on a Monday (it has been sitting there since Friday, by now cloudy eyed); that the worst cuts of meat are reserved for whoever orders it well-done; that chefs prefer weeknight diners over the fair-weather weekend ones. Perhaps none of this applies any more. It certainly sounds less original and significantly more pedestrian 25 years on. He was a better writer than chef, something he was willing to admit. And Bourdain had a tendency toward equivocation (on the one hand Iran ran an oppressively conservative regime towards women, but on the other hand the men on the street were terribly friendly to him). He was an imperfect rhetorician and a troubled man whose life ended in suicide . But there are perennial truths to the world constructed by Bourdain: chefs are mercurial; food is always about more than just food; the daily banalities performed in the kitchen are not incidental to an important life but the source of one; and fish goes off. Maybe his task was all too easy: ventriloquising things that were as true millenniums ago as they will be millenniums from now. He just happened to be the first to really do it.
Daily Mirror
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Mirror
Gordon Ramsay says there's one dish you should 'avoid ordering' at restaurants
Brits have been warned to be wary of a specific dish in restaurants. According to Gordon Ramsay, there's a certain reason why it should be avoided by customers When you spot a "dish of the day" at a restaurant, it's often tempting to give it a go. These menu options are presented as exclusive and described in such an enticing manner that we're naturally drawn to them. Yet, a marketing and psychology guru has shed light on why this could be a trap. Despite appearances, these deals might not be as fantastic as they seem. On TikTok, marketing whizz Basia claims these "specials" are rarely special at all. In reality, they're usually concoctions designed to use up ingredients that need to be cleared out. Take, for instance, a surplus of steak that's nearing its expiry date; chefs will cleverly incorporate this premium product into a new dish to avoid waste. In her enlightening clip, Basia remarked: "The daily special written in chalk? It's been 'today's special' for three weeks. But your brain sees handwriting and thinks: limited, fresh, rare." Even Michelin-starred culinary maestro Gordon Ramsay supports this viewpoint, advising diners to steer clear of soup specials. He suggests they're often just a mix of leftovers that get served up repeatedly. Speaking to Town & Country, he advised: "Ask what yesterday's soup du jour was before today's special. It may be the case that it's the soup du month." Anthony Bourdain also cautioned his Kitchen Confidential audience against ordering fish on Mondays. A fish special at the start of the week could indicate it's been lingering in the kitchen since Friday, unsold. Many fish markets tend to shut down over the weekends, suggesting that dishes served on Mondays may not be as fresh as they could be. Restaurants employ various other psychological tricks. Basia shared more advice in her video, aiming to educate her followers on these subtle marketing tactics.... 1. Restaurants often use an "anchoring effect" to manipulate customers' perception of value By pricing one steak at £50 and another at £35, the latter appears relatively affordable. As Basia noted: "It's to make others look like a deal." 2. The tip jar is never empty Peer pressure can be a powerful influencer, even when it comes to strangers. Basia observed: "They put cash in the tip jar before you even show up. So when you see it, your brain goes: 'Oh... tipping is what people do here." 3. The still or sparkling question When sitting down at a restaurant, you're often asked whether you prefer still or sparkling water. Requesting tap water can feel awkward, leading to increased costs. Basia pointed out: "[It's] not 'would you like water?' It skips the choice of whether, and jumps to which." 4. Menus without currency symbols Some restaurants omit the currency symbol from their menus, listing only the numbers. This tactic can affect your perception of the price, making it seem lower than it actually is. Basia clarified: "Because '£24' screams money. But '24' just looks like a number."
Scroll.in
17-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Scroll.in
‘Kitchen Confidential' at 25: Anthony Bourdain revealed high-end chefs as rock-star pirates
Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly was released 25 years ago into a culinary world vastly different to today's. With his signature semi-gonzo style, all sarcasm, wit and profanity, Anthony Bourdain lifted the pot lid on the world of the professional restaurant kitchen. That world, if we were to believe Bourdain, was full of ne'er-do-well line cooks, shady produce purveyors, drug-fuelled hijinks and ego. Lots of ego. It was also full of people who loved food, who recognised, as Bourdain put it, that 'food had power'. Smash-hit show The Bear is set in a kitchen universe resembling this very world. Bourdain's book is part memoir, part journalistic tell-all. Trainspotting author Irvine Welsh has written the introduction to the anniversary edition. Food writer AA Gill once called the book 'Elizabeth David written by Quentin Tarantino'. In its pages, Bourdain unfolds the story of a contrary young man who enters the culinary world because food made him feel something. A kitchen fever dream By the time he published Kitchen Confidential, Bourdain was contentedly installed as executive chef of the Manhattan branch of Brasserie Les Halles, the culmination of years of experience in the professional kitchen. The catalyst for his love of food, we're told, was an oyster, shucked fresh from the bed by a French oyster-fisher, sampled in defiance, his horrified family looking on. In his usual economically descriptive style, Bourdain tells us that 'it tasted of seawater … of brine and flesh … and somehow … of the future'. He recounts his journey from pretentious teenager, smoking pilfered cigarettes and failing out of Vassar College, to arrogant kitchen hand thrust into learning classic techniques at the Culinary Institute of America, and finally to his substance-addled climb up the professional ladder. In between this personal narrative, Bourdain offers his readers insights and opinions: why you shouldn't order fish on a Monday, the set-up of a diligent line cook's mise-en-place (the cook's prepared ingredients and essential tools), the best knife to buy if you wanted to try this at home. Bourdain wasn't the first culinary 'bad boy' to write their memoir. Marco Pierre White's White Heat, published a decade prior, portrayed White as a chain-smoking culinary savant. However, Bourdain's book went further and deeper, and his innate storytelling skill made Kitchen Confidential stand out. Reading it, it's easy to imagine the bone-deep exhaustion, feel the exhilarating rush of service, hear the patois of the kitchen. Kitchen Confidential made the work of a professional kitchen seem like a fever dream. To Bourdain, chefs were anti-authoritarians. Rockstars. Pirates. Being a chef was cool. Of course, that patina of cool hid systemic problems: drug addictions, misogyny, racism, stress and exploitation. Dark restaurant underbelly Kitchen Confidential was certainly a response to the emergent trend of food as entertainment at the time. The Food Network started programming in 1993 and turned chefs, previously known only in the depths of the culinary world, into superstars on television sets across the world. Of course, there had been cooking shows around for a long time: Julia Child's The French Chef was first broadcast in 1963. But those programs were for housewives, lacking the commercial glamour with which the Food Network gilded their stable of chefs, including American chefs and restaurateurs Emeril Lagasse and Bobby Flay. Bourdain was hypercritical of this 'credulous' approach to food, an attitude which suffuses Kitchen Confidential. Rather than embracing what he saw as the sterility of those television chefs, he revelled in the 'dark recesses of the restaurant underbelly'. He wanted us to, as well. Bourdain set out to shock the establishment. He succeeded. Kitchen Confidential is also a reflection of the state of masculinity at the turn of the 21st century. When Bourdain describes the restaurant kitchen, it is hyper-masculine. He points out those rare women who could 'cut it' in the machismo-heavy atmosphere. He claimed he had worked 'with some really studly women line cooks'. What made them so good? They 'refused to behave any differently than her male co-workers'. In order to succeed, women had to behave like men. While Bourdain may have tempered these views in his later career, men are still the dominant gender in the professional kitchen. It is not friendly to women, as non-binary Australian chef Jess Ho pointed out in their recent kitchen memoir, which has been compared to Bourdain's. You can imagine a slew of young men would have been encouraged to try their hands at the culinary arts after reading Bourdain's macho, swashbuckling stories of life on the line. Passion, isolation, abuse Kitchen Confidential also sheds light on the overwhelming amount of mental health issues at play in the professional kitchen. He detailed his own ongoing struggles, as well as those of colleagues. He recounted the story of his friend, who fired a 'cocaine-stoked and deranged employee' who then went home and took his own life. Bourdain is chillingly cold-blooded about the story, stating 'the guy had to go', acknowledging the kitchen is a cut-throat ecosystem – only the fittest survive. The stress of the kitchen and toxic workplace culture contribute to chefs currently being more likely than the general population to die by suicide, so it seems these issues have not been addressed even 25 years later. While Bourdain may have been one-dimensionally critical of those who couldn't cut it, Kitchen Confidential also provided searing commentary about equality. He illuminated the ironic divide between the haves (those enjoying high-class meals) and the have-nots (those cooking them). He was particularly keen on showing the diligence of immigrant staff, often illegal, often 'downtrodden' and 'underpaid' by unscrupulous restaurant owners who exploited their work ethic. Bourdain felt these cooks, who 'come up through the ranks', were 'more valuable […] than some bed-wetting white boy whose mom brought him up thinking the world owed him a living'. It's clear Bourdain was critiquing himself as well. Twenty-five years ago, Bourdain's work was revolutionary. Now, we see reflections of the kitchen culture exposed in Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential everywhere. A forum on Reddit for food service professionals is titled r/KitchenConfidential. Television shows such as reality show Hell's Kitchen, hosted by Gordon Ramsay, and recent smash-hit drama The Bear, reinforce that in the kitchen, passion is still the tool that gets you through the inevitable isolation, abuse and suffering. Food for everyday people Kitchen Confidential became a bestseller, arriving as popular interest in food and the restaurant industry began to take off. It launched Bourdain's further career. Despite his disdain for sanitised food television, Bourdain himself went on to become a television host. His first series, A Cook's Tour, was accompanied by a book of the same title and appeared on the same Food Network he disparaged in Kitchen Confidential. With his shows filmed in far-off places, Bourdain could have easily become a 'food adventurer', making a spectacle of and exoticising ethnic cuisines. He wasn't perfect, but his genuine enthusiasm and curiosity connected his audience not only to the food he ate on screen, but also with the social and cultural context of the people who made that food. It fostered in many, including myself, a similar curiosity about food: about why we eat what we do, with whom and how. Bourdain died by suicide in 2018 in France, while filming Parts Unknown, his final and most successful series: it had 12 seasons. There was an immediate outpouring of grief, with mourners adding to a memorial at the then-closed Brasserie Les Halles in Manhattan. Bourdain could talk and write about food for everyday people, making them think about where our food comes from, who is cooking for us, and the connections that food forms between us all. In light of his death, his final lines from Kitchen Confidential strike tragically differently 25 years on. He reflected: I'll be right here. Until they drag me off the line. I'm not going anywhere. I hope. It's been an adventure. We took some casualties over the years. Things got broken. Things got lost. But I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Lauren Samuelsson, Associate Lecturer in History, University of Wollongong. This article first appeared on The Conversation.
Yahoo
11-05-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
This Restaurant Customer's Tariff-Induced Meltdown Perfectly Captures How Misinformed People Are
"The customer is always right" is one of those phrases that's been repeated so often in American culture it's practically gospel. But anyone who's ever worked in hospitality knows the truth: the customer is frequently wrong — loudly, confidently, and often about things they don't remotely understand. Still, most of us are trained to "go high," Michelle Obama-style. Still, there are some times when a customer starts crashing out over something, and you just have to stand your ground. Recently, one chef on Reddit's r/KitchenConfidential community shared a story about a diner whose confusion (and misplaced outrage) over tariffs was just too much to ignore. His story is evidence that politics these days colors every aspect of our lives — even the entreé course. The story starts: "A customer got upset about tariffs, and I'm confused." Here's what went down: "I had a customer ask if the salmon was farm-raised or wild-caught. I said it was wild caught from the Bay of Fundy in Canada." "'No, it's not, you're making that up,' the customer said." "'No, I'm not. The fish gets delivered in a box that says Product of Canada on it and states where it was caught.'" "This dude got angry, saying, 'I thought we had tariffs on them!? It would make no sense for an American restaurant to get Canadian fish!!!' And I responded, saying, 'Well, regardless, that's where it's from.'" "Like brother, please. You're gonna be real mad when you learn where all of our other frozen goods come from." "He didn't eat the salmon by the way." "It's like he thinks we need 10 salmon to serve per month. I need like 10 whole salmon per day. I work in the Appalachian mountains, my man, I invite you to find me a steady supply of 300 salmon per month for cheaper in America. And that's just one restaurant. How many restaurants serve salmon in this city? In this state? Good luck with that." Fellow restaurant workers instantly recognized the type — the confidently misinformed customer who doubles down when corrected — and they showed up in the comments to commiserate, unpack the moment, and swap stories of working in hospitality in an era of economic confusion and culture war-fueled dining habits: "It sounds to me like the guy might have confused 'tariff' with 'ban.' Like, he thought that it would now be illegal to import foreign products." —HootieRocker59 "I would've said: 'Yeah man, that's why it's more expensive than it was last week.'" —pate_moore "If people want everything to come from America, they better be prepared for 86'd specials halfway through service and a $20 higher price." —Shwaggins "'I thought we had tariffs on them!' So…do you want the fish or..?" —AcornWholio "As a Canadian, this is what it's all a-trout. Elbows Up!" —eatrepeat "Those damned foreign fish, stealing opportunities from hardworking American Salmon." —Chlorofom "I've heard talk from management that the large corporate seafood chain I work for is phasing out shrimp entirely because it comes mostly from outside the US." —rancidvat "Imagine a $50 cheeseburger. It could happen. That salmon special you are talking about, $75. I'm thinking about the Portlandia episode where they spoof hipsters at a restaurant asking about whether their chickens come from a happy farm. Your story is a hilarious flipping of the script." —Shwaggins "Americans are about to discover what the rest of the world pays for animal protein, and their gasts are going to be totally flabbered." —d3ssp3rado "I used to work at the fish department in a grocery store in Youngstown, Ohio, close to Lake Erie. We sold wild-caught walleye, a product of Canada." "Americans would say, 'Why the hell are the Canadians fishing in our lake?!'" "And I always thought, '...you know half the lake is theirs, right?'" —Interesting-Goose82 "I'm starting to worry that the human brain isn't designed to handle constant exposure to this kind of injurious information all day, every day." —theragu40 "The restaurant I work at is supplied by the LCBO (Liquor Control Board of Ontario). We have had so many customers complaining about the lack of American wines on our list since the LCBO no longer carries them." "Like, guys, do you not know what's going on right now?" —SyrupySex "You want control over where your food comes from? Cook it yourself." —BB_squid "It sounds more like he thought the United States was going to immediately create tens of millions of new jobs to fill industries that have been vacant for decades." —angrymoppet Americans, have you noticed your dining experiences have been changed by the recently imposed tariffs? Let us know your thoughts in the comments. And if you have simply given UP on dining out, you must download the free Tasty app — no subscription required — to access 7,500+ recipes and cooking tips.
Yahoo
11-05-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
This Restaurant Customer's Tariff-Induced Meltdown Perfectly Captures How Misinformed People Are
"The customer is always right" is one of those phrases that's been repeated so often in American culture it's practically gospel. But anyone who's ever worked in hospitality knows the truth: the customer is frequently wrong — loudly, confidently, and often about things they don't remotely understand. Still, most of us are trained to "go high," Michelle Obama-style. Still, there are some times when a customer starts crashing out over something, and you just have to stand your ground. Recently, one chef on Reddit's r/KitchenConfidential community shared a story about a diner whose confusion (and misplaced outrage) over tariffs was just too much to ignore. His story is evidence that politics these days colors every aspect of our lives — even the entreé course. The story starts: "A customer got upset about tariffs, and I'm confused." Here's what went down: "I had a customer ask if the salmon was farm-raised or wild-caught. I said it was wild caught from the Bay of Fundy in Canada." "'No, it's not, you're making that up,' the customer said." "'No, I'm not. The fish gets delivered in a box that says Product of Canada on it and states where it was caught.'" "This dude got angry, saying, 'I thought we had tariffs on them!? It would make no sense for an American restaurant to get Canadian fish!!!' And I responded, saying, 'Well, regardless, that's where it's from.'" "Like brother, please. You're gonna be real mad when you learn where all of our other frozen goods come from." "He didn't eat the salmon by the way." "It's like he thinks we need 10 salmon to serve per month. I need like 10 whole salmon per day. I work in the Appalachian mountains, my man, I invite you to find me a steady supply of 300 salmon per month for cheaper in America. And that's just one restaurant. How many restaurants serve salmon in this city? In this state? Good luck with that." Fellow restaurant workers instantly recognized the type — the confidently misinformed customer who doubles down when corrected — and they showed up in the comments to commiserate, unpack the moment, and swap stories of working in hospitality in an era of economic confusion and culture war-fueled dining habits: "It sounds to me like the guy might have confused 'tariff' with 'ban.' Like, he thought that it would now be illegal to import foreign products." —HootieRocker59 "I would've said: 'Yeah man, that's why it's more expensive than it was last week.'" —pate_moore "If people want everything to come from America, they better be prepared for 86'd specials halfway through service and a $20 higher price." —Shwaggins "'I thought we had tariffs on them!' So…do you want the fish or..?" —AcornWholio "As a Canadian, this is what it's all a-trout. Elbows Up!" —eatrepeat "Those damned foreign fish, stealing opportunities from hardworking American Salmon." —Chlorofom "I've heard talk from management that the large corporate seafood chain I work for is phasing out shrimp entirely because it comes mostly from outside the US." —rancidvat "Imagine a $50 cheeseburger. It could happen. That salmon special you are talking about, $75. I'm thinking about the Portlandia episode where they spoof hipsters at a restaurant asking about whether their chickens come from a happy farm. Your story is a hilarious flipping of the script." —Shwaggins "Americans are about to discover what the rest of the world pays for animal protein, and their gasts are going to be totally flabbered." —d3ssp3rado "I used to work at the fish department in a grocery store in Youngstown, Ohio, close to Lake Erie. We sold wild-caught walleye, a product of Canada." "Americans would say, 'Why the hell are the Canadians fishing in our lake?!'" "And I always thought, '...you know half the lake is theirs, right?'" —Interesting-Goose82 "I'm starting to worry that the human brain isn't designed to handle constant exposure to this kind of injurious information all day, every day." —theragu40 "The restaurant I work at is supplied by the LCBO (Liquor Control Board of Ontario). We have had so many customers complaining about the lack of American wines on our list since the LCBO no longer carries them." "Like, guys, do you not know what's going on right now?" —SyrupySex "You want control over where your food comes from? Cook it yourself." —BB_squid "It sounds more like he thought the United States was going to immediately create tens of millions of new jobs to fill industries that have been vacant for decades." —angrymoppet Americans, have you noticed your dining experiences have been changed by the recently imposed tariffs? Let us know your thoughts in the comments. And if you have simply given UP on dining out, you must download the free Tasty app — no subscription required — to access 7,500+ recipes and cooking tips.
