What do you think?
Rate this book
The Cook
Don't let the fact this blurb is unusual stop you reading this book there really are few books like it. Yes it has cooking as an underlying theme like many other books but what those books don't have is sheer passion and inspiration and motivation and drive. It is a story about having the will and strength to succeed that is to say knowing what you are and knowing what you want to be and working as hard as it takes to get where you belong. At seventeen Zac is given a choice: either go to a young offenders' institute, or enrol in a rehabilitation scheme - a course that teaches juveniles how to cook. He makes his choice. He chooses to cook. He also chooses to succeed. Whatever it takes.
245 pages, Hardcover
First published October 3, 2011
13 people are currently reading
346 people want to read
About the author
Wayne Macauley
12 books16 followersWayne Macauley is the author of the highly acclaimed novels: Blueprints for a Barbed-Wire Canoe, Caravan Story and, most recently, The Cook, which was shortlisted for the Western Australian Premier’s Book Award, a Victorian Premier’s Literary Award and the Melbourne Prize Best Writing Award. His new book Demons will be available in August 2014. He lives in Melbourne.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 97 reviews
dnf
February 26, 2016I can't read this book. There is no punctuation within the sentences. I find it too distracting to try and figure out the sentence and to be thinking about the lack of commas, quotation marks, sentence structure. I picture Sally from TC writhing in utter agony.
One newspaper reviewer said it was "astonishingly original". (Oops in keeping with the style of the book that sentence should have read one newspaper reviewer said it was astonishingly original.)
One newspaper reviewer said it was "astonishingly original". (Oops in keeping with the style of the book that sentence should have read one newspaper reviewer said it was astonishingly original.)
January 1, 2012
So Wayne Macauley, a satirist worth his salt, has been round for a while. Good ole’ Black Pepper Press took a punt on his skewered cheese-dreams of Australian aspiration. Not just suburban oiks, the obvious target, but those artistes applying for the wafer-thin dinner mints of grant funding and greater glory. Check out his early books.
But not before you read this one. My, this is a good book. If Jude the Obscure was obsessed by making it to Masterchef instead of Christminister you might get an inkling of the flavor.
Zach the delinquent trained on a TV-chef’s farm with a group of other fuck-ups takes like a zealot to the filet-knife, the butchering, the prep. But like Jude he understands nothing; his vision of where he will go is so myopic, so focussed, he misses the perilousness of his day-to-day life. He is used. He is in the hands of others.
He’s also entirely, suffocatingly creepy. Macauley gives us just enough of Zach in reflective mode to grasp that he feels very little. Shame is his engine. He freaks people out with this.
My only quibble with the book was the deliberate lack of punctuation. It felt like an ruse to elict better concentration from the reader. I read closely, but punctuation helps to slow me down, find repose. It seemed unnecessary.
Things do not end well. But the larger picture is as frightening as the denouement. In the world of food - working class butchers, obsequious deli owners, farmers, even celebrity chefs - things are broken. The dream of money and fame, the aspirational velocity that Australians have been repeatedly told is what we all should have - it’s in tatters.
And therein lies the true wonder of this novel. The dread. The dystopia. The Global Financial Crisis hangs over it as palpably as the fear of nuclear Armageddon hung over Gen X dinosaurs like myself in the early eighties. Remember, Ronald Reagan was going to start bombing in five minutes.
All that Masterchef glitz turns out to be bread and circuses. And I’m talking supermarket sawdust snags and fairy loaf.
But not before you read this one. My, this is a good book. If Jude the Obscure was obsessed by making it to Masterchef instead of Christminister you might get an inkling of the flavor.
Zach the delinquent trained on a TV-chef’s farm with a group of other fuck-ups takes like a zealot to the filet-knife, the butchering, the prep. But like Jude he understands nothing; his vision of where he will go is so myopic, so focussed, he misses the perilousness of his day-to-day life. He is used. He is in the hands of others.
He’s also entirely, suffocatingly creepy. Macauley gives us just enough of Zach in reflective mode to grasp that he feels very little. Shame is his engine. He freaks people out with this.
My only quibble with the book was the deliberate lack of punctuation. It felt like an ruse to elict better concentration from the reader. I read closely, but punctuation helps to slow me down, find repose. It seemed unnecessary.
Things do not end well. But the larger picture is as frightening as the denouement. In the world of food - working class butchers, obsequious deli owners, farmers, even celebrity chefs - things are broken. The dream of money and fame, the aspirational velocity that Australians have been repeatedly told is what we all should have - it’s in tatters.
And therein lies the true wonder of this novel. The dread. The dystopia. The Global Financial Crisis hangs over it as palpably as the fear of nuclear Armageddon hung over Gen X dinosaurs like myself in the early eighties. Remember, Ronald Reagan was going to start bombing in five minutes.
All that Masterchef glitz turns out to be bread and circuses. And I’m talking supermarket sawdust snags and fairy loaf.
November 8, 2011
My god that was disturbing, and not just the ending.
November 7, 2012
Take Anthony Bourdain's 'Kitchen Confidential'. Add a heap of rabid ambition and a glug - no, make that a bucket-full - of gore, and you get, more or less, Wayne Macauley's wildly entertaining tale of a teenage delinquent turned aspiring chef, 'The Cook'.
Actually, for all its obvious comparisons with Bourdain's biographical account of his life in the world's high-end, high-testosterone kitchens, it has to be stressed that as a work of fiction, 'The Cook' is entirely unique.
This is the account of seventeen-year-old Zac, who is given the choice of either going to a young offenders' institution or enrolling in a rehabilitation scheme that teachers troubled teenagers how to cook. The more Zac learns, the more he becomes convinced he has found his true calling in life, and the more determined he is to succeed, whatever it takes.
Armed with a copy of 'Larousse' plucked from the kitchen shelves, Zac immerses himself in basic techniques before he becomes, like Bourdain, obsessed with stretching boundaries, until his nascent desire to serve, to please, to succeed, threatens to spiral dangerously out of control.
This is not a book for avowed vegetarians or the easily queazy. There is a lot of fattening and slaughtering involved. Try this bite-sized chunk for size:
'My next challenge was agnelet. Milk lamb three to four weeks old four to five kilos in weight born in winter raised indoors fed milk only the meat very tender and delicate. I moved my lamb pens closer to the house and made three more for my pregnant ewes each ewe a bit bigger that than the next. I got Terry to show me how to spot a pregnant one and the ones I spotted I put in my pens. The trick with agnelet is to control the mother how she lives what she eats I fed these mothers quality lucerne up to about three weeks before delivery then intensely fed then a mixture of grain rosemary pinot noir and sea salt after that. This way the unborn lamb could take up via the placenta some of those flavours quite focussed and intense in utero then softened after birth when I bottle-fed it on high-fat cow's milk and whisked raw eggs. At slaughter I would have a lamb subtly flavoured with a bit of its mother's old grassiness but overlaid with hints of grain rosemary wine and salt yet exceptionally tender on account of the milk and eggs.'
Macauley's riotous tale is made all the more urgent by his employment of a colloquial first-person vernacular, bringing Zac's scatter-gun, hundred-mile-an-hour thought processes brilliantly to the page. It's as if the narrator has scribbled down these notes while he's half-watching a pan on the stove. While it takes some time to tune into, this works fabulously: Zac is, after all, a troubled and presumably relatively uneducated teenager, thus his narrative becomes increasingly mashed up with expressions gleaned from the cookbooks he scours.
All of which imbues this book with a fierce readability, propelling you through the pages with the simple desire to discover whether Zac succeeds. And I am not even going to hint at what transpires, beyond saying that you are very unlikely to read a more memorable ending to a book this year. A fun, high-octane, Bourdain-busting book. And, I should imagine, a real talking point if someone you know unwraps it just before they plonk the Christmas turkey in the oven.
Actually, for all its obvious comparisons with Bourdain's biographical account of his life in the world's high-end, high-testosterone kitchens, it has to be stressed that as a work of fiction, 'The Cook' is entirely unique.
This is the account of seventeen-year-old Zac, who is given the choice of either going to a young offenders' institution or enrolling in a rehabilitation scheme that teachers troubled teenagers how to cook. The more Zac learns, the more he becomes convinced he has found his true calling in life, and the more determined he is to succeed, whatever it takes.
Armed with a copy of 'Larousse' plucked from the kitchen shelves, Zac immerses himself in basic techniques before he becomes, like Bourdain, obsessed with stretching boundaries, until his nascent desire to serve, to please, to succeed, threatens to spiral dangerously out of control.
This is not a book for avowed vegetarians or the easily queazy. There is a lot of fattening and slaughtering involved. Try this bite-sized chunk for size:
'My next challenge was agnelet. Milk lamb three to four weeks old four to five kilos in weight born in winter raised indoors fed milk only the meat very tender and delicate. I moved my lamb pens closer to the house and made three more for my pregnant ewes each ewe a bit bigger that than the next. I got Terry to show me how to spot a pregnant one and the ones I spotted I put in my pens. The trick with agnelet is to control the mother how she lives what she eats I fed these mothers quality lucerne up to about three weeks before delivery then intensely fed then a mixture of grain rosemary pinot noir and sea salt after that. This way the unborn lamb could take up via the placenta some of those flavours quite focussed and intense in utero then softened after birth when I bottle-fed it on high-fat cow's milk and whisked raw eggs. At slaughter I would have a lamb subtly flavoured with a bit of its mother's old grassiness but overlaid with hints of grain rosemary wine and salt yet exceptionally tender on account of the milk and eggs.'
Macauley's riotous tale is made all the more urgent by his employment of a colloquial first-person vernacular, bringing Zac's scatter-gun, hundred-mile-an-hour thought processes brilliantly to the page. It's as if the narrator has scribbled down these notes while he's half-watching a pan on the stove. While it takes some time to tune into, this works fabulously: Zac is, after all, a troubled and presumably relatively uneducated teenager, thus his narrative becomes increasingly mashed up with expressions gleaned from the cookbooks he scours.
All of which imbues this book with a fierce readability, propelling you through the pages with the simple desire to discover whether Zac succeeds. And I am not even going to hint at what transpires, beyond saying that you are very unlikely to read a more memorable ending to a book this year. A fun, high-octane, Bourdain-busting book. And, I should imagine, a real talking point if someone you know unwraps it just before they plonk the Christmas turkey in the oven.
December 13, 2021
‘So here I am and no going back.’
The novel opens with sixteen kids at Cook School, an hour and a half out of Melbourne. They are being given opportunities, these boys who are mostly sixteen and seventeen, opportunities to learn and to make something of themselves. Or so it seems.
Zac is our narrator, and he tells the story in his idiosyncratic stream of consciousness way, with occasional punctuation. Zac learns to cook, to slaughter and prepare animals for whatever gastronomic treat seems to fit the occasion. And after travelling with Zac, I think I am ready to become vegetarian.
Gradually, I was drawn into a world of excess, where ‘celebrities’ have others jumping to satisfy their every whim. But not everything goes according to plan for Cook School and while Zac thinks he’s fallen on his feet as cook for a rich family, he soon learns that adaptation is the name of the game.
I have very pedestrian taste in food, and found the world described in ‘The Cook’ darkly amusing. As I read, I could envisage some of the various ‘celebrity’ cooking shows I have occasionally seen, dicing niceties and mincing feelings while savouring the moment. All of which, naturally, sounds so much more impressive in French. While I enjoyed the satire, even the dark twist at the end, I don’t think I will never look at meat the same way again.
Delicious. And now I am off to read another novel by Mr Macauley.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
The novel opens with sixteen kids at Cook School, an hour and a half out of Melbourne. They are being given opportunities, these boys who are mostly sixteen and seventeen, opportunities to learn and to make something of themselves. Or so it seems.
Zac is our narrator, and he tells the story in his idiosyncratic stream of consciousness way, with occasional punctuation. Zac learns to cook, to slaughter and prepare animals for whatever gastronomic treat seems to fit the occasion. And after travelling with Zac, I think I am ready to become vegetarian.
Gradually, I was drawn into a world of excess, where ‘celebrities’ have others jumping to satisfy their every whim. But not everything goes according to plan for Cook School and while Zac thinks he’s fallen on his feet as cook for a rich family, he soon learns that adaptation is the name of the game.
I have very pedestrian taste in food, and found the world described in ‘The Cook’ darkly amusing. As I read, I could envisage some of the various ‘celebrity’ cooking shows I have occasionally seen, dicing niceties and mincing feelings while savouring the moment. All of which, naturally, sounds so much more impressive in French. While I enjoyed the satire, even the dark twist at the end, I don’t think I will never look at meat the same way again.
Delicious. And now I am off to read another novel by Mr Macauley.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
February 22, 2013
Remember that riveting book Under the Skin by Michael Faber? A macabre mystery that by covenant amongst reviewers kept its dark secret quiet so that each reader could experience the shock? I hope The Cook receives the same respect because it’s so brilliantly done, it would be a shame to have it spoiled by careless reviews.
How best, then, to review it here? Carefully, carefully. Enough to entice you to find a copy and read it, not enough to spoil it….
Well then, it’s the story of Zac, a boy from the wrong side of the tracks here in Melbourne, who is given a second chance by the justice system. He goes to Cook School, a sort of boot camp for cooks, where others come and go but he learns to dream of a better life. He aspires now not to be a mere cook, but a chef, and a cordon bleu chef at that, with his own restaurant serving the very rich. And, as the blurb tells the reader, ‘he thinks he’s on his way when he gets a job as a house cook for a wealthy family’.
To read the rest of my review (no spoilers), please visit http://anzlitlovers.com/2011/10/29/th...
How best, then, to review it here? Carefully, carefully. Enough to entice you to find a copy and read it, not enough to spoil it….
Well then, it’s the story of Zac, a boy from the wrong side of the tracks here in Melbourne, who is given a second chance by the justice system. He goes to Cook School, a sort of boot camp for cooks, where others come and go but he learns to dream of a better life. He aspires now not to be a mere cook, but a chef, and a cordon bleu chef at that, with his own restaurant serving the very rich. And, as the blurb tells the reader, ‘he thinks he’s on his way when he gets a job as a house cook for a wealthy family’.
To read the rest of my review (no spoilers), please visit http://anzlitlovers.com/2011/10/29/th...
October 26, 2011
Seventeen year-old Zac has been chosen to attend the exclusive Cook School, a program for underprivileged youths run by a famous chef. Here he discovers a passion for cooking, and dreams of becoming a world-famous chef with his own restaurant. Eventually he lands a job as the personal chef for a very wealthy family, but things start to go a bit wrong...
This is very far from being a feel-good inspirational novel, but a darkly humourous and satirical look at the celebrity chef phenomenon and haute cuisine. The descriptions of menus and food preparation are delectable, and there are some quite detailed scenes of animal slaughter (not for the squeamish) but nothing gratuitous. The Cook is a disturbing look at obsession, ambition, and the lengths someone will go to in order to serve the perfect meal.
This is very far from being a feel-good inspirational novel, but a darkly humourous and satirical look at the celebrity chef phenomenon and haute cuisine. The descriptions of menus and food preparation are delectable, and there are some quite detailed scenes of animal slaughter (not for the squeamish) but nothing gratuitous. The Cook is a disturbing look at obsession, ambition, and the lengths someone will go to in order to serve the perfect meal.
January 17, 2016
Foodist culture is utterly grotesque and depraved, and thank god for a work of fiction that skewers it as neatly and convincingly as Steven Poole's polemic 'You Aren't What You Eat'. I loved this book.
I found 'The Cook' fun and easy to read, although I see from other Goodreads reviews that others struggled with Zac's garrulous, unpunctuated voice. I found it had a wonderful combination of cunning and naïveté, which at first makes you root for him in his journey as a chef, allowing his creepy obsession with food to dawn on you slowly.
Of course, I've watched my share of foodist TV, and the procedural rhythm Macauley sets up also lulls us into wanting Zac to succeed, to make it through competitive 'rounds' and survive judges' assessments. I found the descriptions of butchery quite confronting, but surely our polite concealment of where our food comes from is only the beginning of our willingness to ignore the brutality of late capitalism?
Zac is the avatar of neoliberal ideology. Unlike his resentful lumpen classmates at Cook School, his family, whose old-school working-class values he despises, and Hunter, the Levin-from-'Anna Karenina'-esque friend whose earnest, off-grid self-sufficiency Zac sees as a cop-out, Zac believes he understands how the world really works. He aspires to social mobility by pandering to the appetites of the wealthy – who are hungry not just for food, but also for deference. He rationalises that the nature and source of wealth may change, but the rich will always want to be served.
His humiliation is delicious to them, and Zac is willing to abase himself to provide the necessary seasoning. And, much as his tastes in food evolve from junk food to rustic peasant fare to an abstracted haute-cuisine essence, Zac himself becomes less recognisable as a person as the story goes on. He trains himself into a figure of pure cheffiness as finely honed – and as dangerous – as a kitchen knife.
But of course, Zac builds his ambitions on quicksand rather than bedrock. Investors are pulling out; projects are falling in a heap; contractors and suppliers aren't getting paid. There's an entropic air to this novel; a scary, vertiginous 'fall of Rome' vibe as Zac prepares ever more elaborate meals. (There's even a corny motif of actual cracks appearing in the mansion where Zac's employers live.)
'The Cook' satirises many different class markers and economic positions. Sanctimonious Melody, who protests Zac's employment as embarrassingly exploitative, is volunteering in a Cambodian orphanage while demanding financial support from her parents. Her father, Zac's 'Master', only comes alive when he trades commodities, while the unhappy Mistress flounders in the good life with no fucking idea what's going on. There's the deceptively glamorous, clay-footed Head Chef, the talented sous chef Fabian whose clear-eyed knowledge of the leaky bucket he's pouring his talent into is tormenting him, and the hapless proprietors of gourmet emporia – including the butcher Ray, who realises too late that he lacks the economic leverage to tangle with the rich.
Meanwhile, the descriptions of Zac's increasingly deranged 'farm-to-table' methods are lavish to the point of absurdity, but yet dispassionate and utilitarian. 'The Cook' really is as pointed a critique of foodist consumerism as 'American Psycho's painstaking fetishism of designer clothing and merchandise was a critique of 1980s yuppie preoccupations.
The only thing that bothered me was the lack of explanation of how Zac's plans come undone in the end. I really thought the ultimate critique of foodism – and capitalism – would be to show Zac landing on his feet, Tom Ripley-style, and all his dreams coming true.
I found 'The Cook' fun and easy to read, although I see from other Goodreads reviews that others struggled with Zac's garrulous, unpunctuated voice. I found it had a wonderful combination of cunning and naïveté, which at first makes you root for him in his journey as a chef, allowing his creepy obsession with food to dawn on you slowly.
Of course, I've watched my share of foodist TV, and the procedural rhythm Macauley sets up also lulls us into wanting Zac to succeed, to make it through competitive 'rounds' and survive judges' assessments. I found the descriptions of butchery quite confronting, but surely our polite concealment of where our food comes from is only the beginning of our willingness to ignore the brutality of late capitalism?
Zac is the avatar of neoliberal ideology. Unlike his resentful lumpen classmates at Cook School, his family, whose old-school working-class values he despises, and Hunter, the Levin-from-'Anna Karenina'-esque friend whose earnest, off-grid self-sufficiency Zac sees as a cop-out, Zac believes he understands how the world really works. He aspires to social mobility by pandering to the appetites of the wealthy – who are hungry not just for food, but also for deference. He rationalises that the nature and source of wealth may change, but the rich will always want to be served.
His humiliation is delicious to them, and Zac is willing to abase himself to provide the necessary seasoning. And, much as his tastes in food evolve from junk food to rustic peasant fare to an abstracted haute-cuisine essence, Zac himself becomes less recognisable as a person as the story goes on. He trains himself into a figure of pure cheffiness as finely honed – and as dangerous – as a kitchen knife.
But of course, Zac builds his ambitions on quicksand rather than bedrock. Investors are pulling out; projects are falling in a heap; contractors and suppliers aren't getting paid. There's an entropic air to this novel; a scary, vertiginous 'fall of Rome' vibe as Zac prepares ever more elaborate meals. (There's even a corny motif of actual cracks appearing in the mansion where Zac's employers live.)
'The Cook' satirises many different class markers and economic positions. Sanctimonious Melody, who protests Zac's employment as embarrassingly exploitative, is volunteering in a Cambodian orphanage while demanding financial support from her parents. Her father, Zac's 'Master', only comes alive when he trades commodities, while the unhappy Mistress flounders in the good life with no fucking idea what's going on. There's the deceptively glamorous, clay-footed Head Chef, the talented sous chef Fabian whose clear-eyed knowledge of the leaky bucket he's pouring his talent into is tormenting him, and the hapless proprietors of gourmet emporia – including the butcher Ray, who realises too late that he lacks the economic leverage to tangle with the rich.
Meanwhile, the descriptions of Zac's increasingly deranged 'farm-to-table' methods are lavish to the point of absurdity, but yet dispassionate and utilitarian. 'The Cook' really is as pointed a critique of foodist consumerism as 'American Psycho's painstaking fetishism of designer clothing and merchandise was a critique of 1980s yuppie preoccupations.
The only thing that bothered me was the lack of explanation of how Zac's plans come undone in the end. I really thought the ultimate critique of foodism – and capitalism – would be to show Zac landing on his feet, Tom Ripley-style, and all his dreams coming true.
March 10, 2018
1.5*
This was such an odd book. I almost didn't make it to the end but I'm actually somewhat glad I did - simply because something significant actually happened in the plot, even if it was strange and disturbing.
The Cook is a great example of why inverted commas are essential punctuation marks for speech, as the absence of them (and the other frequent punctuation errors) made this book hard to read. To start with I appreciated the effect this had, but it grew old quickly and didn't make reading this book an enjoyable experience, especially as there wasn't much going on anyway.
I wouldn't recommend.
This was such an odd book. I almost didn't make it to the end but I'm actually somewhat glad I did - simply because something significant actually happened in the plot, even if it was strange and disturbing.
The Cook is a great example of why inverted commas are essential punctuation marks for speech, as the absence of them (and the other frequent punctuation errors) made this book hard to read. To start with I appreciated the effect this had, but it grew old quickly and didn't make reading this book an enjoyable experience, especially as there wasn't much going on anyway.
I wouldn't recommend.
July 5, 2012
I did not see that coming! Wow! Absolutely stunned at the ending. Not expecting that at all!
A wonderful take on not just the culinary world, but social status and heirarchy, and the concept of who serves whom. It was quite refreshing to read a novel that hadn't actually been edited of punctuation and grammar - it made it all the more authentic that this 16 year old boy was narrating his story.
I don't think I've ever read a book that has surprised me with such an intriguing twist before. A great book, easy to read. I would definitely read other material of Wayne Macauley.
A wonderful take on not just the culinary world, but social status and heirarchy, and the concept of who serves whom. It was quite refreshing to read a novel that hadn't actually been edited of punctuation and grammar - it made it all the more authentic that this 16 year old boy was narrating his story.
I don't think I've ever read a book that has surprised me with such an intriguing twist before. A great book, easy to read. I would definitely read other material of Wayne Macauley.
January 16, 2012
What rollicking story written by a boy from the wrong side of the tracks who ends up in a cooking school for 'delinquent' older teens in the country near Melbourne. It is funny, thought-provoking (e.g. the class system, what is important in life) and has a couple of sys prising twists. It doesn't take long to read. Too bad our book group (a bit serious our book group) didn't select it for one of our monthly reads, but it was a suggestion. Enjoy!
February 15, 2018
The authors choice not to use punctuation was a poor one, in my opinion. I couldn’t settle into the story, I had to pause frequently to get my bearings, to the point it just wasn’t enjoyable.
I was actually very surprised to see how many positive reviews this book had, considering that fact.
Overall, I was really let down by this book.
I was actually very surprised to see how many positive reviews this book had, considering that fact.
Overall, I was really let down by this book.
December 2, 2012
Intriguing and thought provoking
January 30, 2023
What a dizzying experience. I was planning to rate this 5-stars and recommend it glowingly to anybody with even a passing interest in the culinary arts...until the last 15 pages, after which I felt cheated and tremendously let down. The "dark twist" as other commenters describe it is cheap, leaning much too heavily on shock value, completely left field, and not consistent with the protagonist's behaviour throughout the novel.
Among the things I truly enjoyed about this novel: an endearing (presumably neurodivergent) narrative voice that helps you immediately understand the perspectives of the protagonist, an unpredictable storyline with - omitting the ending - well-placed twists and turns, and a fascinating look into the sometimes-dystopian world of fine dining and culinary arts. Unfortunately, the terrible ending pretty much knocks each of these positives down a few pegs.
Main character Zac is obviously coded as neurodivergent from the get-go. He absorbs a ludicrous amount of information about cooking, animal rearing, butchery, etc, shows a strong impartiality to peers and social relationships (despite being congenial and even insightful about the workings of class and societal systems), and has absolutely no sentimentality or hesitation with regards to animal slaughter. This is not to say that he revels in butchery – it is simply a part of the process that he has learned and is seeking to perfect. Zac spends the novel mastering his craft, ruthlessly determined to ascend from house-cook to independent restauranteur. His servile intuition is as much a boon as his natural cooking skills.
The ending of the novel sees Zac murder, butcher, cook, and serve the youngest daughter of his host family to a visiting businessman, apparently convinced that this is his ticket to the next level of culinary accomplishment. If this sounds like it doesn’t make any sense in the context of the previous paragraph, that’s because it does not. Prior to this moment, Zac has demonstrated a keen understanding of the traditional career ladder for a chef – at no other point does he show any sign of cannibal inclinations, serious moral delusions or violent tendencies (near the end, the author provides what I guess was supposed to be a rosebud moment wherein we learn that Zac initially wound up in cooking reform school because he cut somebody for bullying him – this is a laughable way to try and contextualize cold blooded murder and cannibal cuisine).
I am truly disappointed to learn in hindsight that Macauley thought he was writing a “creepy, potentially dangerous character” here. Exempting the nonsensical murder stuff, this protagonist thinks and behaves like my autistic father-in-law, or any butcher I’ve met in my life. The only way this ending makes any sense is if you earnestly believe that people who platonically butcher animals (or who don’t use commas in their internal dialogue) might just be raging psychopaths. I’m still wondering if this author is a vegan propagandist or if they’ve just never met somebody who works in livestock before, because I was evidently supposed to be more horrified by the process of plucking birds and killing lambs than I was.
I think if you gave the first 100 pages of this book to 10 other authors and told them to finish writing it, at least 9 of them would have completed a better story about a young man whose ambition presents him with increasingly escalating high-stakes scenarios and moral dilemmas. This ending was truly, truly awful and makes me yearn for the novel that could have been.
Among the things I truly enjoyed about this novel: an endearing (presumably neurodivergent) narrative voice that helps you immediately understand the perspectives of the protagonist, an unpredictable storyline with - omitting the ending - well-placed twists and turns, and a fascinating look into the sometimes-dystopian world of fine dining and culinary arts. Unfortunately, the terrible ending pretty much knocks each of these positives down a few pegs.
Main character Zac is obviously coded as neurodivergent from the get-go. He absorbs a ludicrous amount of information about cooking, animal rearing, butchery, etc, shows a strong impartiality to peers and social relationships (despite being congenial and even insightful about the workings of class and societal systems), and has absolutely no sentimentality or hesitation with regards to animal slaughter. This is not to say that he revels in butchery – it is simply a part of the process that he has learned and is seeking to perfect. Zac spends the novel mastering his craft, ruthlessly determined to ascend from house-cook to independent restauranteur. His servile intuition is as much a boon as his natural cooking skills.
The ending of the novel sees Zac murder, butcher, cook, and serve the youngest daughter of his host family to a visiting businessman, apparently convinced that this is his ticket to the next level of culinary accomplishment. If this sounds like it doesn’t make any sense in the context of the previous paragraph, that’s because it does not. Prior to this moment, Zac has demonstrated a keen understanding of the traditional career ladder for a chef – at no other point does he show any sign of cannibal inclinations, serious moral delusions or violent tendencies (near the end, the author provides what I guess was supposed to be a rosebud moment wherein we learn that Zac initially wound up in cooking reform school because he cut somebody for bullying him – this is a laughable way to try and contextualize cold blooded murder and cannibal cuisine).
I am truly disappointed to learn in hindsight that Macauley thought he was writing a “creepy, potentially dangerous character” here. Exempting the nonsensical murder stuff, this protagonist thinks and behaves like my autistic father-in-law, or any butcher I’ve met in my life. The only way this ending makes any sense is if you earnestly believe that people who platonically butcher animals (or who don’t use commas in their internal dialogue) might just be raging psychopaths. I’m still wondering if this author is a vegan propagandist or if they’ve just never met somebody who works in livestock before, because I was evidently supposed to be more horrified by the process of plucking birds and killing lambs than I was.
I think if you gave the first 100 pages of this book to 10 other authors and told them to finish writing it, at least 9 of them would have completed a better story about a young man whose ambition presents him with increasingly escalating high-stakes scenarios and moral dilemmas. This ending was truly, truly awful and makes me yearn for the novel that could have been.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 7, 2020
I was enticed to pick up this book as the cover looked very mysterious and intriguing. This story is about a troublesome youth Zac from the wrong side of town, who is given a second chance in life at Cook School, and his ambitions to make it big in the world. Nothing prepared me for how difficult it was to read or get into the prose due to the lack of punctuation in the text. It wasn't easy to figure out when a sentence ended or when a character was speaking or whether it was the protagonist's internal processing. It was frustrating to keep re-reading bits so I kept putting this down.
The second half of the book improves, I think partly once I got used to Zac's narrative. I was rooting for him to succeed as a famous chef and fulfil his dreams in creating all those dishes he describes in such rich detail. I realise this is a work of satire, but the first half of the book was so slow going. The best thing about this book for me was the ending, it was shocking, memorable, and so disturbing that it's genius.
The second half of the book improves, I think partly once I got used to Zac's narrative. I was rooting for him to succeed as a famous chef and fulfil his dreams in creating all those dishes he describes in such rich detail. I realise this is a work of satire, but the first half of the book was so slow going. The best thing about this book for me was the ending, it was shocking, memorable, and so disturbing that it's genius.
July 31, 2021
The story itself is interesting and focuses on the class struggle of its characters as a backdrop to Zach’s own idealistic standings. The ending, while grim, is well established given the repeated examination of butchery. Some of the side characters meant to examine various social class standings and to challenge Zach’s obsessive naïveté are given enough scenes, such as the butcher Ray, but others like Melodys boyfriend, Nick, felt rushed. His out burst at the end that he’s just oh so rich and you’ll be nothing comes to mind after we really only had one scene with him the entire book.
Zach will recount long winded paragraphs about a dish he is making, which illustrates his obsession and indicates how it’s clouding his judgement to the reality around him, but it also pulls the reader out of the story in combination with the lack of punctuation because it creates these giants bricks of text right in the middle of the narrative. It is a novel with cooking as a central theme so it makes sense to describe dishes, but to a casual reader a lot of the cooking terms are going right over your head. We even go to cooking school with Zach so maybe it should’ve been explained earlier or something so we can feel more apart of his culinary journey. The bigger issue with the lack of clear punctuation is that it repeatedly interrupted the flow of the story in relation to dialogue because you have to sort out how people are talking so you just take multiple double takes.
Overall it’s a shorter novel so the missteps can easily be put up with. If you’re looking for a darker toned novella with an interesting examination of celebrity chefhood and the service industry as it relates to modern life this is an enjoyable read.
Zach will recount long winded paragraphs about a dish he is making, which illustrates his obsession and indicates how it’s clouding his judgement to the reality around him, but it also pulls the reader out of the story in combination with the lack of punctuation because it creates these giants bricks of text right in the middle of the narrative. It is a novel with cooking as a central theme so it makes sense to describe dishes, but to a casual reader a lot of the cooking terms are going right over your head. We even go to cooking school with Zach so maybe it should’ve been explained earlier or something so we can feel more apart of his culinary journey. The bigger issue with the lack of clear punctuation is that it repeatedly interrupted the flow of the story in relation to dialogue because you have to sort out how people are talking so you just take multiple double takes.
Overall it’s a shorter novel so the missteps can easily be put up with. If you’re looking for a darker toned novella with an interesting examination of celebrity chefhood and the service industry as it relates to modern life this is an enjoyable read.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 16, 2024
The unusual prose of A Clockwork Orange meets the unnerving storytelling of Under the Skin in this story of a young man who enters a chef school as an alternative to prison. We see his development into a skilled chef and his single-minded pursuit of greatness. It took some unexpected turns which others have alluded to in their reviews. The writing style was strange and I'm still on the fence as to whether it worked (it's stream of consciousness but with very little punctuation, yet still easier to read than the drivel in How to be Both by Ali Smith!), but certainly lends something to the characterisation. I enjoyed this because it really was different to anything I've read in a long time, though the long descriptions of French cooking may well get on your nerves.
March 11, 2018
This is a weird book, a very weird book. The ending was so out there, that there is no way anybody could see it coming, and it someways I found that annoying. There was no reason for it to happen, and it was less of a twist than a complete change in plot.
The lack of punctuation was infuriating, especially the lack of speech mark, made even worse by the conversational style of narration. You had no idea when someone was speaking and when he was commenting. It made the book difficult to read, and it really disrupted the flow of an already repetitive book.
I don't think I would read this book again, but all that said I am glad I read it. I might have not enjoyed it but I certainly talked about it, so the book must have some merit.
The lack of punctuation was infuriating, especially the lack of speech mark, made even worse by the conversational style of narration. You had no idea when someone was speaking and when he was commenting. It made the book difficult to read, and it really disrupted the flow of an already repetitive book.
I don't think I would read this book again, but all that said I am glad I read it. I might have not enjoyed it but I certainly talked about it, so the book must have some merit.
September 2, 2020
This book had me hungry the whole time, er well until the end of course. It's the story of Zac who at 17 chooses cook school over a young offenders facility. He is taught to cook but then the cook school starts to suffer financially. Zac is offered a job at a large house in a good area as the chef. Relationships with his employers family develop and he becomes part of their lives. Until the financial crisis and things change. It was a jaw dropping ending, I did not see it coming at all!!! Only reason for 3 stars is the lack of punctuation which had me re-reading at times to understand the prose. Great book, don't give up on it due to writing style.
July 30, 2023
When I started reading this book, I really had to get used to the lack of punctuation in Zac's thoughts.
When I got the hang of it, the book got a lot better😁
It was an interesting read, but what keeps puzzling me is, why he did what he did.
Having a dream of opening his own restaurant one day (soon) is one thing, but why on earth would a lad as ambitious as he was throw away his future like that?
What also interests me is how they figured out, eventually. Questions that won't be answered, I guess.
When I got the hang of it, the book got a lot better😁
It was an interesting read, but what keeps puzzling me is, why he did what he did.
Having a dream of opening his own restaurant one day (soon) is one thing, but why on earth would a lad as ambitious as he was throw away his future like that?
What also interests me is how they figured out, eventually. Questions that won't be answered, I guess.
June 11, 2018
Omgggg I loved this book so much, I loved how dark it was. I really felt the conflict between being enthralled by the food descriptions and disgusted by the detail of the slaughtering of animals in order to obtain the meat.
What a great story, culminating in a life Drawing - posing naked - disturbing dynamic
My new favourite term as it both excites and freaks me out is "glassy eyed" as I'll remember it in reference to an alcohol-poisoned dead-in-the-womb lamb
Amazing book
What a great story, culminating in a life Drawing - posing naked - disturbing dynamic
My new favourite term as it both excites and freaks me out is "glassy eyed" as I'll remember it in reference to an alcohol-poisoned dead-in-the-womb lamb
Amazing book
June 26, 2019
This was something. I enjoyed and hated it at the same time. That ending though..It's one of those books that, for a moment, made me rethink eating meat.
It took a while to get into the rhythm of the book. The lack of punctuation drove me crazy at first. But once you started to understand Zac, the easier it was to read.
This is not a book for food lovers with a soft stomach. This book is dark, filled with gore and will force you to think about all of the steps that go into your food.
It took a while to get into the rhythm of the book. The lack of punctuation drove me crazy at first. But once you started to understand Zac, the easier it was to read.
This is not a book for food lovers with a soft stomach. This book is dark, filled with gore and will force you to think about all of the steps that go into your food.
October 29, 2024
Super interesting book at times horrible shocking final I wasnt bothered by the writing style, seen it done by other authors, it adds to the flavor although it had a shocking conclusion, I found that actually a hasty ending not logic and not suiting the main character whom I found very dedicated kind and smart
October 17, 2017
If you want to see a movie through a book - just don't miss this one. The plot was so well explained that you can just picture that happening in front of you.. but do not take things for granted as what we read may not be what we see!!! Caution for the plot but a lovely read!
June 12, 2018
Brilliant and gripping novel about upping the ambition level to eleven and getting consumed by it. Loved the shocking twists. Had to re read a particular part 3 times because I was not expecting it.
Plus points for really detailed culinary jargon.
Plus points for really detailed culinary jargon.
March 20, 2019
I liked this book. I actually liked this book. As an English major the lack of punctuation did irk me a little bit but ultimately I got passed it. If you want your appetite ruined by the end of the book (in a good way) or are just in need of some disturbing reading, give this one a gander.
January 3, 2020
A great read. Once you get used to the narrative style with no speech marks, it just flows. Not for the easily squeamish, especially with regards to the slaughtering of animals for food but it rings true and is just excellent.
September 18, 2023
Very disturbing
The ending is beyond harrowing. Odd book from the get go, no punctuation. Only read to the end as it was a book group read would have given up earlier. Sorry to the author, I'm just not your audience.
The ending is beyond harrowing. Odd book from the get go, no punctuation. Only read to the end as it was a book group read would have given up earlier. Sorry to the author, I'm just not your audience.
October 8, 2024
Tricky to get my head round the way the book is initially written.. but I foolishly haven’t read in a couple years, so that’s more me than anything!
Truly an incredible read! And holy moly.. the plot twist at the end came out of NOWHERE!
Would definitely recommend!
Truly an incredible read! And holy moly.. the plot twist at the end came out of NOWHERE!
Would definitely recommend!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 12, 2017
What. A. Book.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 97 reviews