Heat: An Amateur's Adventures as Kitchen Slave, Line Cook, Pasta-Maker, and Apprentice to a Dante-Quoting Butcher in Tuscany (Vintage)

Anyone who has ever worked at a continental-style restaurant should read this book.

I picked up "Heat" in the interests of reliving my experiences in two continental restaurants, run by two totally different-in-temperament chefs, one Austrian, one Swiss. Neither one embodies quite the insanity exhibited by Mario Batali, the owner/operator of Babbo in New York City,and known via TV as The Iron Chef. I must confess I have never watched The Iron Chef, although I have heard of him; but most of what goes on here does not impact him in that show.

Mr Buford, who seems to have had an open-ended commitment with his real job at the New York Times, decides upon interviewing and further visiting with Mario Batali, that he would like to apprentice to him, to learn the art of Italian cooking. Mr Buford knows just enough about cooking to get into trouble, and it doesn't take long for him to do so when he arrives at Babbo to begin his apprenticeship. I found myself nodding my head at the things that happened to him; I recognized all the personalities in the restaurant, all the petty jealousies, all the various traumas that go on in a busy, popular restaurant on a weekend night. Mr Buford's traverse through the stages of hierarchy was entertaining to say the least. Some things that went on there made me cringe; I'm pretty sure some of the things Mr Buford reported have never occurred at the restaurants I worked at, but it's possible; I was never on the line, but my chefs were nowhere near Mario Batali in style or performance either. (And I mean that in a good way; the man is clearly nuts.)

My favourite part of the book, however, was when Mr Buford, in the interests of furthering his education as a butcher, went to Italy to study under Dario Cecchini in Tuscany (further indication that Mr Buford has ample funds stored up to entertain these conceits about becoming a chef, as it seems apparent that he wasn't earning anything in Italy either). His style of writing made the little hill town where he was very vivid in my mind; the personalities he encountered were highly likable; and overall I wanted to pack up and go over there for a protracted visit myself. It didn't make me any more enamoured of pigs or their products (I only had to find out what pancetta was to know I didn't need it in my diet), but I was greatly entertained by his excursion over there and, having long wanted to visit Tuscany, it just makes me want to go there even more.

Mr Buford is a thorough examiner of his environment, and I felt like I knew everyone he worked with afterwards. The joy of food, the joy of the preparation of food (or not), is clear throughout the book, and while I found hilarity within it, I also found great insight in the entire restaurant experience, from cooking to management. I'm not sure I could work with Mr Batali, but I have a greater insight into the world of food preparation for the public, on all levels. A very entertaining book. I felt like I had a pretty good education in the topic at the end of it.

In reading through the 1 star reviews, I'm awfully confused. There's not much "foul" language, particularly if you contrast it with Bourdain's books. I'm 7/8 of the way through and can't think of anything other than a very few sprinkled f-bombs at all. For the folks who complain about the lack of an in-depth look at French food and life in France - well, its title is pretty much the major clue - pasta and Tuscany don't scream French cuisine. I'm constantly amazed at people's ability to complain. That said, I enjoyed it but it's not a great book. It offers one person's experiences in a celebrity driven kitchen (I've never watched Mario Batali on TV and I am less likely to now) and in some other settings. I never caught his passion for cooking - it seemed more like an adventure so he would have something to write about than an adventure of his life.

This is a very fun book. It is especially fun for those of us who have worked in restaurants. The literary images of poor Mr. Buford being thrown to the fire--quite literally--is a delightful ride. It is a foodie's paradise and a self-deprecating memoir of the author's offbeat culinary education (at a somewhat mature age).

Bill Buford writes a highly entertaining book. Heat is good for 3 reasons.

One, Bill is humble. It's very easy to forget that the author was an editor for the New Yorker. It's also very easy to forget how successful/famous Mario Batali and his restaurants are; which is for whom and where Bill worked. These facts seem to disappear because the author is so humble. This makes him appear more human and allows the reader to connect with him more easily.

Two, he's extremely self-deprecating. After working at Babbo for a few months he described his role as the, "kitchen bitch, cleaning the kitchen's bitch." Little quotes like this speed the book along.

Three, he's passionate. Bill Buford loves food. He loves learning about it, preparing it and most of all the timeless tradition of eating it. Whenever he's describing something food related his excitement begins to permeate through his writing.

Together these points make Heat a very entertaining book that is difficult to put down.

A note to all the foodies - you may be disappointed by this book. This book is more about the journey than it is about the food.

The book is boring, and what is worst, the author is always making racist comments. Very disappointing.Don't bother reading this book.