A hilarious series of culinary adventures from GQ's award-winning food critic, ranging from flunking out of the Paul Bocuse school in Lyon to dining and whining with Sharon Stone.
Alan Richman has dined in more unlikely locations and devoured more tasting menus than any other restaurant critic alive. He has reviewed restaurants in almost every Communist country (China, Vietnam, Cuba, East Germany) and has recklessly indulged his enduring passion for eight-course dinners (plus cheese). All of this attests to his herculean constitution, and to his dedication to food writing.
In Fork It Over, the eight-time winner of the James Beard Award retraces decades of culinary adventuring. In one episode, he reviews a Chicago restaurant owned and operated by Louis Farrakhan (not known to be a fan of Jewish restaurant critics) and completes the assignment by sneaking into services at the Nation of Islam mosque, where no whites are allowed. In Cuba, he defies government regulations by interviewing starving political dissidents, and then he rewards himself with a lobster lunch at the most expensive restaurant in Havana. He chiffonades his way to a failing grade at the Paul Bocuse school in Lyon, politely endures Sharon Stone's notions of fine dining, and explains why you can't get a good meal in Boston, spurred on by the reckless passion for food that made him "the only soldier he knows who gained weight while in Vietnam" and carried him from his neighborhood burger joint to Le Bernardin.
Alan Richman, once described as the "Indiana Jones of food writers," has won more major awards than any other food writer alive, including a National Magazine Award, eight James Beard Awards for restaurant reviewing, and two James Beard M.F.K. Fisher distinguished writing awards.
The all new cover will emphasize Richman's globetrotting persona and attract a wide audience
You know when you are dining with a guy who has interesting things to say but then makes an inappropriate joke to the waiter or is a jerk to the bartender and you are embarrassed to be his dining companion? But he doesn't notice, and thinks he is funny and charming? This book is like that.
I've had this on my shelf for a while, a gift from in-laws. Basically a compilation of a bunch of food articles Richman wrote for GQ. I have to admit, I found him dull and snooty, but what else are food critics if not those things?
"You shouldn't eat dessert. Dessert is a sin. So if you are going to sin, do it freely. Having one dessert is like having one mistress, ridiculous. You must have two or three, once you get started." - attr. to Alain Ducasse, by Alan Richman
Alan Richman's Fork It Over comes across as a naked attempt to cash in on the growing interest in food literature that started several years back. For the most part, it's a collection of Richman's selected writings for various food publications from the early 90s to the mid noughties. The problem is, many of the articles haven't aged well over the years. The best food literature - Ruth Reichl, some of Anthony Bourdain's early stuff, Michael Ruhlman - talk about personal journeys and histories that involve a connection with food. You can connect with the work years after the writing. Fork It Over is essentially a bunch of reviews of eateries that may or may not still be around at the time of Fork It Over's publication.
To be fair to Richman, Fork It Over was published in 2004; I purchased a copy in 2006 and only recently retrieved it from the recesses of my bookshelf. I'm reading the book 6 years later than Richman had hoped I would. But that still doesn't explain the fact how Richman thought it appropriate to include pieces from 1993 (Hungry in the Hamptons) and 1995 (The Fruits of Islam, essentially a review of Louis Farrakhan's eatery in Chicago). And it's quite clear that the pieces from 2001 - Toro Toro Toro - on sushi in California, Slicing up Naples - on his dining experiences in that city, and Pete Jones is a Man Among Pigs - on BBQ pork sandwiches in North Carolina won't age gracefully either.
Other pieces, while they didn't show their age as much, were just not great pieces of writing. A Room of One's Own, the Saucier's Apprentice (Richman's account of his experience in the Paul Bocuse Institute), Play it Again, Lam (on his time in Vietnam, where Richman comes across as a boorish American tourist), Not Much of A Man in Havana (more boorish American tourist stories), My Beef with Vegans (just a boor) made for poor reading. And his series of Ten Commandments and Palate Cleaners, which were essentially lists of his peeves and dislikes, appeared to be there solely for the purpose of taking up space, to enable the book to hit 300 pages, thereby rendering it A Substantial Book.
There are some decent pieces in the collection - Richman's pieces on truffles and wine are entertaining enough and the piece on Leo's Latticini in Queens is quite heartwarming (and makes me want to hunt this place out, if it's still around). But these pieces are few and far between. For the most part, only sheer pig headedness (I hate reading books halfway) kept me reading.
I bought this at the Strand, having heard Richman's name before and hoping it would be amusing; he's a well-known food critic, and this turns out to be a collection of his articles (many of them for GQ). Well, it is amusing, in spots; he does have an often devastating wit, and good food descriptions (though I thought there were too many reviews of bad food). I liked a couple of essays about his family, which are insightful and touching.
What I most definitely didn't like is his condescending, patriarchal, chauvinistic attitude toward women, which is unavoidably present throughout the book. A couple of examples I marked (and I could certainly come up with more if I were willing even to skim it again): an encounter with an Asian girl in Shanghai: "an Asian Alicia Silverstone, which meant she was very pretty and going to fat"; on truffles: "If the white truffle is a slattern with immoderate lipstick, the black truffle is a Ph.D. in a naughty dress" -- I mean, what? Objectification much?
It comes to a head in the last article, about a dinner he had with Sharon Stone, which I knew was going to irritate me when he ended the second paragraph with this: "In other words, [Stone:] was a woman who knew how to eat like a man."
And then I got to the third paragraph, which I will quote in full:
"When it comes to dining with women, I have become skeptical. I simply don't bounce back from those experiences the way I used to. Once I was wonderfully resilient, but these days I question the fundamental concept of men and women going to a restaurant together. I even wonder where it all began, when the dinner table became the preferred venue for men and women to get better acquainted. It is now one of the burdens that men bear."
And it gets worse from there -- I haven't even gotten to the bit about how all older women (the younger ones being "callow and indulgent") are "dinner-table dominatrices". I suppose one could take this as tongue-in-cheek and not serious, but coupled with a lot of other remarks, Richman's whole attitude left a very bad taste in my mouth. And I'm not remotely vegan, but the article entitled "My Beef with Vegans" was also incredibly condescending and offensive.
Collection of essays, mostly entertaining and hunger producing. Alan Richman is one of the world's foremost food critics and writers. He writes for GQ Magazine, Bon Appetit, and Condé Nast Traveler. Fork it Over is a collection of essays written about cuisine around the world - from Richman's search for black truffle overload (his favorite food) to the best barbecue in North Carolina, and all points in-between. Other culinary visits include a French cooking school, the Hamptons, Monte Carlo, Vietnam, Florida, Italy, New York, and LA.
Richman bastes his writing with humor, a great deal of tongue-in-cheek comment, and an even larger amount of outright criticism. You will not come away from his writing unsure of his position on wine stewards, cheese carts, or petit fours. Many of the foods and cuisines he consumes are gourmet, and a few - such as haggis or unusual Chinese dishes - will not appeal to the unadventurous eater. Yet the enjoyment of reading about Richman's experiences is not diminished because they involve foods unfamiliar to some of us.
The narration makes readers feel right there at the table with Richman and his dinner companions. We live vicariously through his travels, and are inspired to contemplate visiting some of these countries to taste their wonderful foods for ourselves. Discourses are provided on food found in 'joints' (like a diner but less classy), on sushi, Jewish food, celebrity chefs, and on the disappearance of Polynesian restaurants. Each essay is unique, entertaining, and delightful.
This is a delectable treasure. Readers who enjoy narrative non-fiction, food lovers of all kinds, and those who are looking for an unusual and humorous writing style will thoroughly enjoy Fork it Over.
There should be more range in the star ratings just for books like this. While I enjoyed reading this collection of essays, I wouldn't necessarily recommend it to someone, unless they love to drench themselves in sarcasm and biting commentary. To say Alan Richman is a pompous critic would be redundant. What else do we want in our critics? However, reading more than two or three articles at a stretch left me with a nasty twitch. Pity the restaurant with the misfortune to serve him. I was entertained by the breadth of his adventures and there were several articles I found genuinely amusing. If I could, I would offer a 3.5 stars, or a conditional 4 for die-hard foodies and fans of food writing.
This was a collection of food- and wine-related columns from various publications (like GQ, Food and Wine) throughout the 1990s and early 2000s. I particularly liked the one about Montreal, Viet Nam, and the ones about France.
Best story: on a wine-drinking/buying weekend with professional wine-buyers and collectors, he hears a story about an un-priced bottle on a menu. The group asks, they hear that it costs 14,000 francs ($2000USD) so they order it. Turns out it was 40,000 francs ($7000) but it was so good, it was worth it.
I wanted to read food writing, so this hit the spot. I just wish it had been more up-to-date, as I'm sure the places he mentioned don't exist anymore.
Richman can craft a good turn of phrase, and he describes food so perfectly that you can almost taste it. Not that that's always a good thing; he's an unashamed omnivore. (If you'll pardon the food-related metaphor, his chapter on vegans was the sneeze on an already-subpar sandwich.) As well, he's snooty and self-satisfied, castigating "regular" food, even as he rhapsodizes about some foodie-porn, "look how authentic I am", hole in the wall serving him Moonpies and shredded pigs on sandwich bread. Being a nicer person probably wouldn't make him a better critic, but it would have made for a better book.
I picked this book up because I'd read a couple of his things in Bon Appetit that were delightfully hilarious. This book, a compilation of some of his magazine articles, was really interesting and funny! I don't understand why some of the reviews I read are so harsh on Alan Richman. Maybe I relate more than most people because I am also critical of dining experiences. I don't know if I'd want to go out to eat with him, but he admits as much. And, hey, he's a restaurant critic.What do you expect? But Fork It Over is much more than reviews of restaurants. It's history, culture, and personal stories about his acquaintances and his family. And it's "let me read this part to you" funny!
Alan Richman certainly knows how to write obviously. His wry, biting humor came through with every article. It just seemed he came across as slightly pretentious (which may have been the point) and nothing ever fully satisfied him. Which is fine, but then in some of his later articles he positions himself as sympathetic. It didn't 100% ring true.
In my mind, there are plenty of writers out there that give a better description of decadent eating. I would seek those out before reading Fork It Over.
Alan Richman is a decidedly fun fellow and this romp through the culinary and oenological landscapes of various countries left me laughing repeatedly. It is a collection of essays over the years from a wide variety of publications.
Some of my favorite portions: "Indeed, the chunks of snake did have a meat-on-the-bone quality, although snake meat is much chewier than rib meat, probably because snakes wiggle around a lot and pork ribs do not." "My wife is so irrationally against bread that I now think of her as the Anticrust."
Alan Richman is a fun writer who writes as much about sociology as he does about food, though he's not overbearing or jargonic about either. This is a collection of essays that are unrelated, except for the theme of food. I especially enjoyed the articles about Cuba, Jewish waiters, and North Carolina barbecue sandwiches. Except for the occasional swear word, I'd recommend this as a fun read to pretty much anyone.
What a delicious read and adventure through several countries and many restaurants with Alan Richman. From learning about wine "spitters" to fungus amungus, I had a good time! I had met Alice Waters years ago, so it was fun to see what his opinion of her and her famous Chez Panisee in Berkeley was in a west coast chapter. I am rarely disappointed in any book about cooking, hunting the perfect meal, criticizing what SHOULD be a perfect meal and I had it all here.
This is a compendium of the author's articles from various magazines. There were very few articles that I would say I didn't like. A couple of pieces that stood out for me were about his elderly parents and food and the chapter about the disappearance of Polynesian-themed restaurants. It was a light, fun read.
This is one of food writing's best voices. Richman crafts great stories around his culinary critiques and captures the essence of lively characters embellished with the history and progression of the business and culture. Certainly a favorite voice of mine when it comes to writing in general and a standout in this genre.
Um, obsessed with Alan Richman and this book. His tales are unrivaled, in my opinion, and the stories he shares will make you wish, then unwish, then wish again that you were a food critic too.
I can't decide if this book or "Eating My Words" by Mimi Sheraton is better. Read them both and let me know what you think!
WHY I PICKED IT UP: Same as always. Can't turn down food writing :-)
NOW THAT I'VE READ IT: I really enjoyed this compilation. Richman is one of my favorite food writers and here you get to see how he handles a huge variety of restaurants- from $2.50 pork sandwiches to $6000/meal wine allowances. Every story is funny, ensuring you'll be amused from cover to cover.
I had taken a food writing class that was taught by Alan Richman and his book is a clear reflection of his personality. The stories, taken from previously printed versions found in GQ, Food & Wine and more, are quite sardonic. He's definitetly not a critic to praise every meal, more the type to find fault in most and grandeur in few.
After reading this book, I realize that I am more interested in ACTUALLY eating food than reading about someone else's eating adventures. About 1/2 way through I found myself skimming through the book, reading the chapters that featured his parents thoroughly. His mom is hilarious.
This book is Alan Richman at his finest, which is to say, witty, brilliant, and, on occasion, a trifle misogynistic, and even a touch pretentious. Whether you agree with his assessments and pronouncements or not, his essays are always thought provoking and this is a collection of some of his best work.
A collection of Richman's essays from GQ, Food & Wine, etc. He's a very funny writer, much like Calvin Trillin, but with a much finer restaurant base. I loved the insight into fine dining, food writing, and wine tasting.
Not bad. It's a selection of articles that this guy has written over the years, and some of them definitely made me chuckle ("My Beef with Vegans" was particularly amusing), but it's not the best food writing I've read.
Meh. I always hope that the authors don't read these things, so Alan Richman, I'm sorry if you read the following: There are much, much better food writers. Ruth Reichl, for example, is an amazing writer, period. Sigh.
For the most part an enjoyable but unmemorable book of food writing, but Richman gets lots of bonus points for recognizing that Eastern North Carolina barbeque is the superior form of barbeque in the world, and for giving me half a dozen restaurants along the coast to check out.
A bit of an obnoxious snob, Richman leads the reader through many different culinary experiences. Once I got over his tone, I enjoyed the essays. Although I had a tough time realizing that he does not like very many unique culinary experiences.
A fun read about travels and food (and more food.) This one made me want to pack my bags and sling-shoot around the world to sample new food... as well as eat to excess. Reminds us we only get one shot at life, so enjoy the good things in life.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I was given a copy of this when I took a class from Richman. His writing is appealingly anecdotal, unliterary and funny, with none of the usual high-minded food-writing tropes. The essays are oddly long, though, and left me wondering in what form they were originally published (or were they?).
This misogynistic assault on foodies in a pre-celebrity-chef world is a product of its time, and as such, it should stay in its time. I put this book down after the essay on Vietnam, though I suggest you put it down much sooner, if you even pick it up.