Thus ends my future career as a chef before it even begins. I'm finished reading Heat and have a better understanding of the rich and famous badboy chef, Mario Batali and life in a professional kitchen. Way too hot and stressful for me. And I don't have the knowledge or know how. Besides, I may have red hair, but I'm not a celb or a want-to-be. Buford gives a sweat by sweat description of each of the kitchen stations and the people who operate them. He worked in Mario's famous New York restaurant, Babbo.

The author then goes on a quest to understand Italian food and it's people and history. He makes the adventure come alive by working with the people in Italy who have not become rich and famous, but are the sixth generation who have butchered, or made pasta, or created foods from the regions traditions and ingredients.

At one point, Buford is on a mission to find out about making pasta, specifically putting egg in pasta. As he said, no one understood his urgency to find the answer to the question. I can relate because when I have a question about foods or ingredients I research and research until I find an acceptable answer. Buford used many old accounts that have recently been translated to help understand the cooking traditions of Italy, one reference dated back to 1351.
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So finding out about pasta and all kinds of Italian meats and methods of preparing was very interesting and inspiring. One enlightening idea was the use of all kinds of meat: lamb, rabbit, duck, pork, beef, wild game, etc, and all parts of the animal. In fact, the cooked meats turn into a brown mush. Raveoli is stuffed with any and all meat parts. I thought that this idea might be disgusting to the general population who have no idea what they eat. The menu at Babbo includes all kinds of things that Americans are not supposed to like- headcheese, octopus, beef cheeks, lamb's tongue, and calf brains.

Now, I was raised on a farm and my dad was a trapper, so I understand what these items are and how they are made. I vowed that, as an adult, I would never eat many of these foods because I had no choice as a kid. Looking at the list my mom cooked lamb, pork, beef, goat, chicken, turkey, goose, duck, rabbit, squirrel, raccoon, beaver, and venison. Pretty impressive. We did draw the line at headcheese, brain, and kidney pie. However, I have eaten these foods. I do know the idea of using what you have, in season, and making it by hand which is a theme in this book.

So, even though I love watching Mario B. on Iron Chef and looking at his new line of cooking items, after reading this book, I feel a real kinship to Bill Buford especially when he cut up the side of pork on his kitchen counter in his New York apartment. I wish I could remember all of the names of foods that Bill learned about. And I appreciate the recognition brought to the not so famous people in Italy who don't give a @@@ about business, but consider themselves artists.

If I go to New York, I would still like to go to Babbo. I will really have to look over the menu though.