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.Read the whole thing here.