As a memoir, the book is really good. It's well written and Samuelsson does a good job describing memories through food. His recollections of food are often vivid and colorful. His recollection of his adopted family and his struggles as a black chef are heartfelt. He really tries to dissect what makes him tick and why he has the drive he has. I found myself really enjoying the story. Then he gets to the part in his life where he has a one-night stand and the woman gets pregnant. She keeps the baby and Samuelsson pays child support. However, he voluntarily does not meet his daughter until she is fourteen years old. I couldn't wrap my head around that. He gives a couple of reasons for this, but honestly I couldn't see it. I mean damn, really dude? Not even for, like, one holiday? Or right after she was born? Or one birthday in fourteen years? Or hell even just her first birthday? For fourteen years? I found myself feeling quite sad for his daughter and the pain she went through growing up. When he finally does meet her, it's bittersweet for both of them. He put in thousands and thousands of hours towards cooking, and that helped him contribute financially to his daughter, but my wish for him is that he mends that personal relationship because the part that money can't buy is damaged.
That didn't make me enjoy the book any less; it just made me kind of sad for him. If you consider yourself a foodie and love vivid descriptions of falling in love with food, pick this up. Just realize that he really does put it all in this memoir and it's not just about food. It's also about sacrifice, personal relationships, family, food security, travel, and a little bit of politics. Even though I felt a bit saddened by his absence in his daughter's life, it does not diminish the good writing and the flow of the story. It just goes to show that no matter how successful one becomes, there is always a struggle.
