Mucho Macho Chefs

Well, yes.  And what red blooded female doesn't? Fancy 'em.  That's what. When Gordon stripped his chef's whites off down the corridor on The F Word to that music, I always gave a little grin, and a frisson of pleasure rippled over me.  Swearing? check.  Rude comments? Check.  Battered charm? Check.  Then there was the Christmas special.  Oh dear.  We saw him in his kitchen being all dadsy with the kids.  No. Really.  Leave that to Jamie.
But of course the Grand Fromage of the lot was surely Anthony Bourdain. When I first read Kitchen Confidential I was cooking on gas. High octane.  No protective oven gloves, so to speak.  Phew.  It was that good. Reckless and fast and furious.  What a bad boy made good, and through food.  I mean, what's not to like? Nothing.  Not in my case anyway as I've (along with countless others) have a soft spot for the rogue, and a rogue, let's remind ourselves, who COOKS.  Wow.
So it was with huge delight that I turned to Medium Raw his follow up. Hmm.  Well. I persuaded myself to read it again, carefully this time, instead of chomping through it like a starving woman on a diet let loose on a groaning buffet table. Yep, it's OK.  But.... there's a bit too much of whining going on for me.  Poor man.  Travelling round the world to his chosen location so that he can be filmed for his US TV shows.  No one understands the pressure.The TV people don't get it.  The food isn't as good.  The ego becomes super sized. But - there are still some wonderful sickening moments.  The description of the forbidden (and therefore hugely enjoyable) illegal meal of ortolans, the visit to a mafia ridden Russian restaurant are first class, but it certainly doesn't have the fire that I needed. He's mellowed, married, has children, has stopped smoking.  He's changed. But we haven't.  We still long for the bad boy. Come on Anthony - live a little.  Just for us. Pretty please?