(I don’t star rate memoirs!)

I’ve read this one before when I was younger and less likely to be annoyed by Bourdain’s schtick. There’s a lot to be annoyed about in this, but there’s also a lot that is just beautiful writing.

His chapter about a day in the life at Les Halles is spectacular and the moments when he’s talking about himself and his experience hit beautifully in comparison to when he focuses on others. 

If you haven’t read this before, read it. It’s clearly written by a guy with opinions that aren’t always right and will likely annoy you, but I appreciate that he knows it. It’s odd to reread it after his death, but I’ll always love that books keep someone alive.