Bill Buford, Digested
The miraculous John Crace at The Guardian delivers the essential bits of Bill Buford’s Heat:
"Where are your knives?" barked Frankie. It was my first day on the prep line. Why hadn't it occurred to me I needed a knife? Frankie plunged a blade deep into my shoulder. I pulled it out, letting the blood spray heroically, accepting his act of generosity. Sweat pouring in rivers down my virile body, I diced vegetables for 12 hours a day.
posted by the chocolate doctor מרת שאקאלאד at 8:40 PM
3 Comments:
that is the best illustration to appear on the blog (which is saying something), or accompany reference to bill buford.
how is it that the eatee is a chef and clueless looking one?
heh. I thought you might like that.
Does the chef look clueless or just terrified? I can't guess what this was originally meant to advertise.
Ha! Where is the illustration from? It looks like something from Gargantua & Pantagruel.
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