CARE AND FEEDING

A tale of celebrity kitchen mayhem.

Woolever came onto the high-end New York restaurant scene at 22, “the correct age to eat shit at a poverty-­wage job that I hated, while living in a wet hole in the ground.” The first wet hole belonged to Mario Batali, the once-eminent empire-building chef who fell afoul of the dawning #MeToo culture with behavior that would make even the most unapologetic horndog blush: “His handsiness and constant dirty jokes and innuendo signified that it was OK, even encouraged, to squeeze and flirt with and grope each other,” Woolever recounts, and in the end, it brought him down. To her good fortune, Woolever wasn’t there for that end, having since—at Batali’s engineering—gone to work for Anthony Bourdain, the angel on Woolever’s shoulder to Batali’s devil. Much of what Woolever has to say about Bourdain is available, in one voice or another, in the oral biography Bourdain that she assembled after his death, just as much of what she has to say about restaurant work is told, and far better, in Bourdain’s own breakthrough book, Kitchen Confidential. What is not available elsewhere is an enumeration—that eventually becomes tedious and then numbing—of Woolever’s own bad behavior: pickup sex and numerous affairs while married and raising a child, abundant drugs and an endless flow of alcohol, lies and evasions and missed days of work, and all the rest. It’s noteworthy, and a detriment, that Woolever is harshly judgmental of just about everyone but herself (and, for the most part, Bourdain), cutting herself innumerable breaks for decades of infidelities and addictions until finally allowing that sobriety works better. “If Tony were still alive,” she writes, “I’d almost certainly still be working for him, maybe collaborating on a new book, instead of having written this one.” Yes, and more’s the pity.

This is one meal you can skip.