This thing is sort've a ten-dimensional trainwreck and one of the best visual representations I've seen of complete ADHD. I should say, in general, I love Tim's podcast. Yes, every now and then he gets guests who are whackjobs, but in general he does an exceptional job interviewing highly successful and thoughtful people. However, in this case, all his worst tendencies tend to be amplified in book form while some of his strong suits often come across as ridiculous and frequently are just wrong. The book starts out looking at strategies for learning new skills. These seem, at their heart, to be effective and worth taking some time to seriously consider, though it's also worth pointing out that the positive results of his method of learning largely rest on Tim's anecdotes. His lessons are encased in paragraphs of humble brags, straight-up unbelievable claims, and things that, when examined further, have been shown to be somewhat dishonest on Tim's part. For example, his famed kickboxing tourney win was largely a result of him finding a way to dramatically cut and regain water weight in order to qualify for a much lower weight class (thus letting himfight much smaller opponents) while also realizing all you have to do win is shove your opponent outside of the ring, thus eliminating the need to actually learn the fighting art he claims to have mastered so quickly. He didn't break the rules, per se, but he did bend them to an extreme and ever since has left that part out and instead focused on how quickly he became a champion kickboxer. In essence, how to fake expertise. Also, as others have noted, becoming a world-class dilletante in esoteric hobbies is much easier if you are a millionaire influencer and investor with all the time in the world to devote to becoming a successful dilletante. The first cooking section is supposed to be basic recipes to teach cooking principles, so of course it starts with braised lamb shanks. Really? I'm fine with starting out with a braise, but this immediately gets to one of the major issues with the book. No matter how down-to-earth he tries to be, the fact that Ferris is a millionaire many times over keeps popping up. Sometimes it's direct, such as the countless experiences he oh-so-casually recounts of dining at the world's best restaurants, or his advice to just call up a world-class expert when trying to learn a new skill and ask for an interview. In this case, it's just the assumption that everyone has a butcher who can cut them a few lamb shanks, which, BTW, are pretty darn expensive. Also, the dish itself is just bland. It's basically some lamb shanks with a can of chopped tomatoes, some garlic poweder, unpeeled carrots, and a lot of white wine cooked in an oven for a few hours. Most egregiously, it really doesn't even correctly teach how to braise because it intentionally leaves off browing and deglazing. Unfortunately, the same goes for so many of the dishes in the beginner section. Admittedly, most of my cooking revolves around Indian, Chinese, and South Asian cuisines, so I strongly gravitate towards bold flavors. Maybe it's just my taste in food, but the recipes I tried from this section are noticeably under-seasoned and dull. One of the reasons for that, it turns out, is that this is NOT a book about how to cook in general, but instead is a book about how to cook based completely on the Slow Carb Diet that Tim espouses. Leaving aside whether it's a good or bad diet (I really don't care) the fact that the cooking part of this book is based around some pretty serious dietary restrictions should probably warrant calling this the Slow-Carb Cookbook. I suppose he teaches a few basic cooking concepts fairly well in this part, but this is not culinary school in a few dozen pages, which is what he's sort've promising. Samin Nosrat, for example, covers a lot of that stuff better and with more economy in her book, and frankly, any number of YouTube channels do a better job teaching basic cooking techniques. From the opening section on simple recipes you'd expect him to expand on concepts and types of recipes and food, but instead we get a massive section on outdoor survival, guns, hunting, disaster preparedness, field dressing what you've killed, and various ways to kill smaller things like rabbits and chickens, as well as strategies for surviving in an urban landscape during an apocalyptic disaster including how to kill and eat squirrels. And of course from there we naturally jump to a large section on molecular gastronomy recipes, including things like beet foam, crunchy bloody mary bars, and using liquid nitrogen for ice cream. We end the book with Tim regailing us with more stories about eating at high-end places in NYC and San Fran, name-dropping all the celebs and savants he hangs out with, and how amazed they are with his cooking. There is also a giant mishmash of some decent recipes from his chef friends, some impossible-to-cook recipes, some using rare or super-expensive ingredients, and basically anything else he can toss in as the book sort've devolves down into a choppy, ADHD-addled splattering of stories, thoughts, and lists that largely comes across less like an organized book and more like someone just dowloaded a blog and printed it out. That last point can't be over-emphasized enough - every page of this thing is filled with sidebars, multiple photos, diagrams, text boxes, offset lists, stand-alone captions, etc... all with a two-column layout. This thing is nothing short of an eyesore to read and the prose comes across like the blog scribblings of a twenty-something tech-bro. One last thing that bothers me is how much Tim hypes everything in the book from the recipes to the "life hacks." He guarantees that eating 30 grams of protein within thirty minutes of waking up will make you lose weight. I added a protein shake (130 calories) to my morning egg white omellette. I gained weight. Seemingly half of the recipes in here feature superlatives amounting to "world's best" or "You'll never need another recipe for this dish again" when in reality, the recipes aren't that good. Early on in the book Tim claims to have essentially become fluent in Turkish simply by talking to a random Turkish speaker over the course of a short flight. And yet, in the same section he complains that he and his assistant spent hours unsuccessfully trying to figure out how to use a pressure cooker. I can't learn to speak fluent Turkish from scratch in two hours, but it took me about fifteen minutes to learn how to use a pressure cooker. My point is that the superlative-filled nature of so much in this book becomes tiring, and, at least in my experience, often stretches credulity or simply doesn't live up to the hype when I try it out. To some degree this reminds me of the products that Tim shills for on his podcast, a great number of which are just snake oil. It also reinforces a skepticism around Tim that everyone should keep in mind - part of the guy's first book was literally a set-by-step plan for how to con people into thinking you're an expert in very little time and how to make money off that fake expertise with as little effort as possible. In essence, how to run a scam. Talking like an expert and promising seemingly impossible results with little effort are core aspects of Tim's books, and have been the basic line of hucksters everywhere for millenia. This is no different. I'll keep listening to him interview other guests who are actual experts, but I don't think I'll read anymore of his books. Fool me once, etc...