A former odd-jobber and Martha Stewart Living staff writer records the highs and lows of studying at the Culinary Institute of America.
Just before turning 38, Dixon decided to veer from his aimless career path and pursue cooking, the passion of his youth, as a vocation. So he and his girlfriend boxed their urban life and moved to scenic Rhinebeck, N.Y., where he embarked on the two-year Associate of Occupational Studies program at the nearby Culinary Institute of America (CIA)—a place “like Disneyland for cooks.” Knowing at the outset that he never wanted to own his own restaurant, Dixon’s fears that his latest desire to become a chef was yet another form of vocational “escapism” and “indulgence” were only heightened upon meeting his classmates, many barely out of high school—as one notes, “my parents wanted me to come here instead of juvie”—others possessed of the same focus and drive as famous CIA alumni Thomas Keller and Grant Achatz. “The Muslims may have ninety-nine names for God,” writes Dixon, “but at the CIA, there was pretty much just one: Keller.” Filled with engaging journalistic details as his studies move from theory to practice, Dixon’s acerbic account makes the CIA program sound like two years of protracted fraternity hazing, with 16-hour days and boot camp–like ego annihilation for weeks on end, coupled with an emphasis on collective success or failure in the kitchen. Throughout, the author waffles between self-doubt and confidence, gaining as much culinary knowledge—“For every end result, there are a dozen different ways to get there”—as personal introspection: “I knew I was too pigheaded to flourish in a situation where ceding control to others was required to truly learn and succeed.” Cheeky and informative, but may leave readers wondering whether this writer will ever know what he wants to be when he grows up.
Pub Date: May 3, 2011
ISBN: 978-0-307-58903-3
Page Count: 272
Publisher: Clarkson Potter
Review Posted Online: April 3, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 2011
Stricter than, say, Bergen Evans or W3 ("disinterested" means impartial — period), Strunk is in the last analysis...
Privately published by Strunk of Cornell in 1918 and revised by his student E. B. White in 1959, that "little book" is back again with more White updatings.
Stricter than, say, Bergen Evans or W3 ("disinterested" means impartial — period), Strunk is in the last analysis (whoops — "A bankrupt expression") a unique guide (which means "without like or equal").Pub Date: May 15, 1972
ISBN: 0205632645
Page Count: 105
Publisher: Macmillan
Review Posted Online: Oct. 28, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 1, 1972
This is not the Nutcracker sweet, as passed on by Tchaikovsky and Marius Petipa. No, this is the original Hoffmann tale of 1816, in which the froth of Christmas revelry occasionally parts to let the dark underside of childhood fantasies and fears peek through. The boundaries between dream and reality fade, just as Godfather Drosselmeier, the Nutcracker's creator, is seen as alternately sinister and jolly. And Italian artist Roberto Innocenti gives an errily realistic air to Marie's dreams, in richly detailed illustrations touched by a mysterious light. A beautiful version of this classic tale, which will captivate adults and children alike. (Nutcracker; $35.00; Oct. 28, 1996; 136 pp.; 0-15-100227-4)
Pub Date: Oct. 28, 1996
ISBN: 0-15-100227-4
Page Count: 136
Publisher: Harcourt
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 15, 1996
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