2. Reading

I share with the great Renaissance masters, Michelangelo and Leonardo, just one trait: the inability to finish anything. I appreciate a good read every once in a while but something in my eyes or brain causes me to fall asleep every time I open a book.

Nevertheless, these books sit in a towering pile on my nightstand. The first of these is Infinite Jest, by David Foster Wallace, which I've been trying to read at the gym. The emphasis here is on 'trying'--holding a thousand-page-long book while bobbing up and down on the Stairmaster and getting sweaty is, well, tiring. But I swear, one day, I'm going to finish this book.

My favorite thing about this book is the author's vocabulary. Wallace will use a phrase from contemporary slang or 'low-brow' diction right next to words I've never seen in my life. I try to write these words down so I can define them later. While I could mask this as a pursuit of knowledge, (like the good Honors student I am), I'll admit right here that I'm doing it so I can sound less stupid when I communicate verbally. I'm trying to fill the lacunae (thanks, David Foster Wallace) in my personal word-bank. I like to think that from a cultural standpoint, I appear curious and interested in self-improvement. And I suppose I'd like to differentiate myself from the 'likes' and 'ums' of other people my age.

It's hard for me to write about the book thematically, even revisiting this post months later, because I still haven't progressed past the first chapter. But for some reason, it's still sitting on my nightstand, begging to be read. The act of reading, then, not the actual content of the book, shows a lot more about my culture. Because I can't manage to set aside time to read Wallace's book, it makes me embarrassed how little I actually read. For all my professors' griping about how 'kids these days' don't read enough books, they don't allow me enough time to take a break from their assignments to actually read for pleasure. School is overwhelming for me, a struggling Honors student, who isn't quite smart enough to understand David Foster Wallace, and who has to balance school, homework, my artwork, and two jobs. But one day I'll get there.

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One other book I'm reading is Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly. It's great because he doesn't dumb down cooking like so many other chef personalities do. And he doesn't censor it either. The result is a funny, intelligent, and sometimes abrasive look into cuisine and the food industry.

I can cook. I don't know how to flambé but I can broil, bake, and sauté my way into a decent meal. I like complex flavors, and foods from all over the world. I'd say a lot of my tastes were inspired by Anthony Bourdain and his book. He shares his contempt for people who order well-done meat, and for cooks who cover up their slightly-rancid fish by smothering it in hollandaise sauce and put it on 'special.' The book delves into the "underbelly" of the restaurant industry, revolving around the grungy, oft-tattooed staff that makes a restaurant work. These are not the Rachel Rays and Martha Stuarts on TV.

I guess the reason I liked it is that I can relate to it. Like most kitchen staff, I never went to culinary school. My kitchen isn't decorated with tissue paper flowers and I don't have multiple wall-mounted ovens for making cute tarts with. Cooking in my kitchen is fast, aggressive and dirty. There is a lot of improvisation and taste-testing. Picky eaters are not tolerated in my kitchen. No one should limit themselves to hamburgers and chicken. I love Vietnamese food, Turkish food, real southern barbecue... I love it all.