Anthony Bourdain

My friend’ famously means ‘asshole’ in the worst and most sincere sense of that word

My vato locos are, like most line cooks, practitioners of that centuries-old oral tradition in which we – all of us – try to find new and amusing ways to talk about dick

But what the system seeks, what it requires, is someone, anyone, who can hold up their station, play the game without getting bent out of shape and taking things personally

Turn left and cough’ or ‘Grab your ankles, ‘cause here comes papi chulo

in short, the kind of warm welcome and name recognition all of us beaten-down, working-class slobs crave when going out to dinner

Let him show up late, fuck up service … because you’re afraid he’s gonna off himself? Fuck him. We’re on a lifeboat, baby. The weak? The dangerous? The infirm? They go over the side.’

If an unexpected period of unemployment inspires you to leap off a bridge, hang yourself from a tree or chug-a-lug a quart of drain cleaner, that’s too bad

It is no coincidence that all my kitchens over time come to resemble one another and are reminiscent of the kitchens I grew up in: noisy, debauched and overloaded with faux testosterone – an effective kitchen, but a family affair, and a dysfunctional one, at that. I coddle my hooligans when I’m not bullying them.

Scott learned early that he might have to actually work for a living, whereas I, a product of the New Frontier and Great Society, honestly believed that the world pretty much owed me a living – all I had to do was wait around in order to live better than my parents

thought Scott was in it for the food or for the lifestyle. It gave him pause