I’m excited to once more be a part of The Kitchen Reader. Of course, I pick a month where we don’t have an assigned book to read, but that’s ok, since I actually did some reading on my own this year. (If I sound shocked, it’s because I am – I think I have ADHD that’s getting worse over time, since I’m finding it increasingly hard to concentrate for long enough periods of time to read a novel, as opposed to news articles which I do all the time.) But I digress.

My pick to review this month is Grant Achatz’ Life, on the Line. It was recently recommended by Serious Eats as one of their 10 favorite non-cookbook food books in 2011, which reminded me that I read this back in the Spring and how much I liked the book. It’s sad that I only got the significance of the title when I sat down to write this review – not only is this a memoir of his career in the restaurant industry, it’s a fairly detailed account of his battle with tongue cancer. What comes across incredibly clearly in the book is Achatz’ (rhymes with “packet”, which I didn’t know until this year) intensity and dedication. His drive for perfection seems to be a common trait with other very successful individuals, regardless of the profession. I believe these traits got him through his ordeal with cancer – much has been written by others regarding his ability to create fantastic meals, even after he had lost his sense of taste, which I attribute to his talent.

There is, of course, the flip side to this obsession to detail. I haven’t had the opportunity to eat at his Chicago restaurant Alinea, but one of my colleagues has (he’s a fellow foodie). My colleague had a miserable time – he felt like he was granted the privilege of dining at an exclusive establishment, and therefore he was supposed to marvel at everything that was placed in front of him. When I mentioned that I found the book to be fantastic and asked if he had read it, since I was interested in his opinion after having eaten at the restaurant, the first thing my colleague asked was whether there was any mention of fun in the book, since fun was notably absent in his experience at Alinea. The question stopped me in my tracks because it was something I hadn’t picked up during my reading – Achatz doesn’t seem like a guy that can cut loose and relax. In fact, he might be pretty miserable to be around, even when healthy, and it seems to have come through in my colleague’s dining experience. I contrast it with the profiles of Ferran Adria, who seems to have such a playful curiosity in the world around him that seemed to translate into wondrous and joyful meals at El Bulli. ui

It’s unlikely that I will ever eat a meal prepared by Achatz, though I did appreciate learning about his creative process. The one thing the book has made me want to do is eat at Thomas Keller’s French Laundry in Napa. Achatz speaks so highly of his mentor and makes Keller seem like a genuinely nice guy, that it almost makes me ok with with spending $500 a person for a dinner. Maybe one of these days…