Amazon.com Review
Courtney Febbroriello, the titular
Wife of the Chef, tells all with acerbic wit in this exposé of life behind-the-scenes of a small Connecticut restaurant. But only the very secure should delve between the covers. Febbroriello tells how she met her husband, Chris, and shares a day in the life of the restaurant she now runs with him. It's a stressful job--it doesn't pay well, there are no benefits, they never get to spend any time together without talking about work, and no one appreciates her.
If you love to read about the restaurant trade, venture forth, but keep in mind that no one is spared Febbroriello's sharp tongue. If you've read Kitchen Confidential, none of the kitchen dirt will shock you (except maybe for the fact that she doesn't eat her husband's food because she's a vegetarian), but nearly everything else is fair game. According to Febbroriello, waiters don't get the respect they deserve, but then again many of them are slow, sloppy, don't anticipate her needs adequately, or are too friendly and helpful (come again?). Customers, admits Febbroriello, are the reason there are restaurants, but among those she hates are those who revere her husband (really?), those who want to relax, be pampered, and arrive with expectations (who isn't guilty?), and the ones who call themselves foodies.
Tired and cranky, overworked and never recognized, a Jill-of-all-trades and the glue that holds her restaurant together, Febbroriello's diatribe will make you laugh as long as it doesn't make you cry. --Leora Y. Bloom
From Publishers Weekly
In this window into the life of a chef's wife, Febbroriello challenges the stereotype of such women as pampered-she doesn't like exotic foods, is a vegetarian, subsists on potatoes and yogurt gulped down on the run. Febbroriello tires of hearing how wonderful it must be to be the wife of cook Christopher Prosperi of Metro Bis in Simsbury, Conn., and complains of condescending businessmen who assume they need to talk to her husband when she herself is part owner. She details the manic organizational demands of owning a restaurant, customer complaints, crowded lunches, a husband to whom every surface is a napkin; she even dishes out raunchy kitchen jokes. After her experience as Fry-O-Lator girl in a restaurant that allowed workers to pick up food that had fallen on a floor frequented by cockroaches, Febbroriello vowed never to eat out again-that is, until she became enamored of her husband-to-be and his passion for all things food. With chapter titles like "Combat Skills" and "The Rules of the Jungle," the book makes one wonder why anyone would want to be in this business. There is only passing mention of the rewarding customers and quirky regulars, and with only one recipe, there is more evidence of passion for bookkeeping than there is passion for food. However, those who have suffered the indignities and long hours of the restaurant business will appreciate her no-nonsense descriptions of the fierce competition for the best ingredients, wines and employees; the politics of reviewing; the financial woes; and the customers who can't make up their minds.
Copyright 2002 Reed Business Information, Inc.
