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Hunger Like a Thirst: From Food Stamps to Fine Dining, a Restaurant Critic Finds Her Place at the Table
Written and read by food writer and
New York Times
contributor Besha Rodell—(formerly) one of the world’s last anonymous restaurant critics—comes this witty and lively memoir.
When Besha Rodell moved from Australia to the United States with her mother at fourteen, she was a foreigner in a new land, missing her friends, her father, and the food she grew up eating. In the years that followed, Rodell began waitressing and discovered the buzz of the restaurant world, immersing herself in the lifestyle and community while struggling with the industry’s shortcomings. As she built a family, Rodell realized her dream, though only a handful of women before her had done to make a career as a restaurant critic.
From the streets of Brooklyn to lush Atlanta to sunny Los Angeles to traveling and eating around the world, and, finally, home to Australia, Rodell takes us on a delicious, raw, and fascinating journey through her life and career and explores the history of criticism and dining and the cultural shifts that have turned us all into food obsessives. Hunger Like a Thirst shares stories of the joys and hardships of Rodell’s coming-of-age, the amazing (and sometimes terrible) meals she ate along the way, and the dear friends she made in each restaurant, workplace, and home.
A Macmillan Audio production from Celadon Books.
When Besha Rodell moved from Australia to the United States with her mother at fourteen, she was a foreigner in a new land, missing her friends, her father, and the food she grew up eating. In the years that followed, Rodell began waitressing and discovered the buzz of the restaurant world, immersing herself in the lifestyle and community while struggling with the industry’s shortcomings. As she built a family, Rodell realized her dream, though only a handful of women before her had done to make a career as a restaurant critic.
From the streets of Brooklyn to lush Atlanta to sunny Los Angeles to traveling and eating around the world, and, finally, home to Australia, Rodell takes us on a delicious, raw, and fascinating journey through her life and career and explores the history of criticism and dining and the cultural shifts that have turned us all into food obsessives. Hunger Like a Thirst shares stories of the joys and hardships of Rodell’s coming-of-age, the amazing (and sometimes terrible) meals she ate along the way, and the dear friends she made in each restaurant, workplace, and home.
A Macmillan Audio production from Celadon Books.
Audible Audio
First published May 13, 2025
39 people are currently reading
9598 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 84 reviews
May 8, 2025
I do enjoy reading about the food industry- specifically restaurants and all its behind-the-scenes prep work, inner machinations, hookups, the challenging long hours of a chef, wait staff, reservationist, hostess...etc. This memoir takes us on a different tangent with a woman who becomes a food critic/writer. I didn't enjoy that aspect as much. However, Rodell is a gifted writer, especially when she so exquisitely describes her surroundings in these various eateries. I was intrigued by her childhood growing up with limited financial means, yet gravitating towards dining in expensive restaurants- always finding a way to do that. I was also fascinated by her cunning tactic of never being photographed so that the restaurants wouldn't know they were being scrutinized. Some of the things I didn't like were the cover of the book (which reminded me of a rom-com horror story), some political musings, and some intermittent cursing that increased during the end- which at first seemed natural and endearing but then began to grate on my reading ears. You've really got to love this job in order to deal with the strain of both travel and moving and the collateral impact on your spouse and children, which she honestly shared in this book. Rodell clearly has a passion for it and I applaud her dedication and strength in pursuing this profession.
Thank you to Celadon Books who provided an advance reader copy via NetGalley.
Thank you to Celadon Books who provided an advance reader copy via NetGalley.
April 24, 2025
Thank you @Celadonbooks for the ARC book. I truly enjoyed getting a look into a food reviewer's life, mind, and day to day activity. My husband &I like to enjoy a great meal as a treat - so enjoyed Besha’s stories.
We get a look into her life - starting as a child in Australia, then moving a lot of times around the US with her mother, with her father back in Australia. Besha then settles in New York first, Atlanta, LA, and then back to Melbourne.
We see her adult life starting out on food stamps, and then evolving into fine dining restaurants, and writing reviews - and getting paid to do it! Sounds like a dream. I loved hearing names like Voltaggio, Noma, and other famous people and restaurants in the book.
We also see it's not all glamorous & can be exhausting, expensive, and repetitive especially when you have to go 3 times to a restaurant before you can review & how flying to a new country/city every other day to review another spot. It also broke my heart that her husband, Chef Ryan, opened a restaurant in March 2020 to only close. I’ve googled her best restaurants in the world list!
Her epilogue, which was a love note to Bourdain, was beautiful & heartfelt. If you love food, travel and a good memoir - this is a great one - add to the TBR.
We get a look into her life - starting as a child in Australia, then moving a lot of times around the US with her mother, with her father back in Australia. Besha then settles in New York first, Atlanta, LA, and then back to Melbourne.
We see her adult life starting out on food stamps, and then evolving into fine dining restaurants, and writing reviews - and getting paid to do it! Sounds like a dream. I loved hearing names like Voltaggio, Noma, and other famous people and restaurants in the book.
We also see it's not all glamorous & can be exhausting, expensive, and repetitive especially when you have to go 3 times to a restaurant before you can review & how flying to a new country/city every other day to review another spot. It also broke my heart that her husband, Chef Ryan, opened a restaurant in March 2020 to only close. I’ve googled her best restaurants in the world list!
Her epilogue, which was a love note to Bourdain, was beautiful & heartfelt. If you love food, travel and a good memoir - this is a great one - add to the TBR.
June 6, 2025
The key to a great memoir is threefold: an interesting life, a vibrant, engaging voice, and ideally some insight into the world you’re portraying and the themes you’re evoking. Besha Rodell busts right out the gate with all three. Given her background as a food writer, specifically, this shouldn’t come as a surprise. But I’m ashamed to admit, I had no idea who she was until I picked up this book. In a way, this was almost a boon, getting wrapped up in the story she was telling me without any expectations or preconceptions.
I deeply appreciated the honesty with which Rodell approached her subject matter, from the entrenched misogyny the food world hasn’t managed to buck to this day, to the dysfunctional side of her own family. In particular, I appreciated her candor in admitting that she low-key ruined her son’s life by moving back to Australia, instead of pretending it was a quirky global learning experience for him, as many other writers might. At the same time, there’s nothing glib or ‘edgy’ about her portrayals. She makes no bones about how much she loves what she does—the food, the travel, the novelty—and also how strenuous it is. She is also clearly very knowledgeable, as the chapters dealing with the history of food and food service pay testament to.
Last but not least, I won’t lie, Rodell’s background makes her a lot more relatable to me than many of her fellow food writers. Even the luminaries (whom I love) like Ruth Reichl and Anthony Bourdain (RIP) likely wouldn’t have wound up eating their way to fame if their families weren’t loooooaaaaaded. Rodell’s background, instead, felt a lot more familiar. That bit where she says, “I didn’t crave wealth, I craved luxury,” really resonated with me. If you don’t get a lot of luxe as a kid, yeah, it’s a bit like stepping into a fairy tale.
All in all, a terrific read, and you better believe I’ll be scouring the web for Rodell’s other writing now.
Thank you to NetGalley and Celadon Books for the free ARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions within are my own.
I deeply appreciated the honesty with which Rodell approached her subject matter, from the entrenched misogyny the food world hasn’t managed to buck to this day, to the dysfunctional side of her own family. In particular, I appreciated her candor in admitting that she low-key ruined her son’s life by moving back to Australia, instead of pretending it was a quirky global learning experience for him, as many other writers might. At the same time, there’s nothing glib or ‘edgy’ about her portrayals. She makes no bones about how much she loves what she does—the food, the travel, the novelty—and also how strenuous it is. She is also clearly very knowledgeable, as the chapters dealing with the history of food and food service pay testament to.
Last but not least, I won’t lie, Rodell’s background makes her a lot more relatable to me than many of her fellow food writers. Even the luminaries (whom I love) like Ruth Reichl and Anthony Bourdain (RIP) likely wouldn’t have wound up eating their way to fame if their families weren’t loooooaaaaaded. Rodell’s background, instead, felt a lot more familiar. That bit where she says, “I didn’t crave wealth, I craved luxury,” really resonated with me. If you don’t get a lot of luxe as a kid, yeah, it’s a bit like stepping into a fairy tale.
All in all, a terrific read, and you better believe I’ll be scouring the web for Rodell’s other writing now.
Thank you to NetGalley and Celadon Books for the free ARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions within are my own.
March 23, 2025
I really enjoyed this book! I loved reading about Besha's life and the food reviews and articles were fascinating. I loved that she didn't want to just review the high end restaurants, it made it more relatable. It also made me understand how hard it can be to be a food critic. It was definitely an interesting read!
March 25, 2025
I had a pleasure reading this book. Besha is by far my favorite food critic because of her honesty . Not everybody can afford a 5 star meal .Oh, who are we kidding? Just a handful can . She gave many restaurants recognition they deserved from all over . She was brutally honest about her life with the good and bad . I appreciate that so much .
May 25, 2025
Hunger Like a Thirst by Besha Rodell
Audio Version
Overall Grade: A-
Information: A-
Writing/Organization: B+
Narration: B+
Best Aspect: Interesting story that made me hungry often.
Worst Aspect: The changes in the author(narrators) accent. Time frames didn’t stick in my head and I was confused a few times.
Recommend: Yes.
Available Now. Thanks NetGalley for this audio book.
Audio Version
Overall Grade: A-
Information: A-
Writing/Organization: B+
Narration: B+
Best Aspect: Interesting story that made me hungry often.
Worst Aspect: The changes in the author(narrators) accent. Time frames didn’t stick in my head and I was confused a few times.
Recommend: Yes.
Available Now. Thanks NetGalley for this audio book.
March 24, 2025
In another life, I would LOVE to be a food critic and travel the world to try all of the best restaurants. I really enjoyed this read, and thought it was a great memoir.
Received this ARC from Celadon Books
Received this ARC from Celadon Books
May 19, 2025
In the increasingly homogenized world of food writing, where Instagram aesthetics often trump substance, Besha Rodell's memoir "Hunger Like a Thirst" arrives like an unexpectedly perfect meal at an unassuming roadside diner. It's honest, unpretentious, and leaves you feeling both nourished and contemplative long after the final page is turned.
Rodell's narrative voice is refreshingly direct - sometimes uncomfortably so - as she charts her journey from a displaced Australian teenager in America to becoming one of the world's most respected (and stubbornly anonymous) restaurant critics. What elevates this memoir above the crowded shelf of food-adjacent memoirs is Rodell's refusal to romanticize the often toxic restaurant culture that both shaped and nearly broke her.
The Outsider's Perspective That Defined a Career
Born in a bungalow on an Australian farm aptly named "Narnia," Rodell's life story reads almost like fiction in its unlikely trajectory. Her first formative food experience wasn't at some Michelin-starred temple of gastronomy but at Melbourne's grandest restaurant, Stephanie's, where she was taken as a nine-year-old by a friend's father. This early glimpse into the world of high-end dining planted a seed of fascination with not just the food, but the theater of restaurants themselves.
When her mother relocated the family to America when Rodell was fourteen, that outsider perspective became both a burden and eventually her greatest asset. She writes with searing honesty about how this displacement shaped her identity:
"Leaving is the key event of your life—you spend all the time after trying to reconcile the person you were when you belonged somewhere with the displaced person you've become."
This sense of never quite belonging allowed Rodell to observe restaurant culture with a critical eye that those born into it might lack. Her depictions of working at "Goldie's" (a stand-in for a real restaurant in North Carolina) capture the intoxicating energy, casual misogyny, and often predatory dynamics of restaurant work in the late 1990s with unflinching clarity.
Beyond the Michelin Stars: A History Lesson Served on the Side
What distinguishes "Hunger Like a Thirst" from typical food memoirs is Rodell's intellectual curiosity about the deeper currents shaping American dining culture. Between chapters of personal narrative, she weaves in fascinating historical context about:
- The development of cafeterias as working-class dining options
- How Howard Johnson's pioneered the "comfort of sameness" that defines American chain restaurants
- The cultural shifts that transformed cocktails from sophisticated adult beverages to sugary, sexual-innuendo-laden concoctions
- The evolution of service styles across different cultures
These sections elevate the memoir beyond personal reminiscence into something more substantial - a thoughtful examination of how dining culture reflects broader societal values and changes. When Rodell observes that "dining out was never something I took for granted; every meal felt like a pilgrimage to a temple belonging to a religion not my own but to which I aspired," she's articulating how food becomes intertwined with class aspiration and cultural belonging.
The Gender Question That Pervades the Industry
Throughout the book, Rodell confronts the gendered expectations that shaped her career. As a woman in the predominantly male worlds of both restaurant kitchens and food criticism, she learned to adopt a certain toughness:
"I have taken a fair amount of pleasure from this distinction and harbored a sense of pride that I was tough enough, that I could roll with the inappropriate humor and pirate ship mentality."
Yet she grapples honestly with how this adaptation ultimately reinforces the very systems that make the industry so inhospitable to many women. Her friendship with Michelle, the intimidating pastry chef from Goldie's who later opens her own café in San Francisco, provides a poignant case study. Despite Michelle's talent and drive to create a more humane workplace, the ingrained toxicity of restaurant culture proves nearly impossible to escape.
Rodell writes with particular insight about how women in authority positions face double standards: "If you are a woman in the restaurant industry, or any industry, the expectation is that you will be soft. You're not allowed to have the hard edges and straightforward mannerisms of the men in the same position."
The Critic's Journey: From Alt-Weekly to The New York Times
The narrative of how Rodell established herself as a critic makes for compelling reading, especially for those interested in the changing landscape of food media. Her start at the alternative weekly Creative Loafing in Atlanta, followed by her replacement of Jonathan Gold at LA Weekly, and eventual work for The New York Times showcases both her determination and the precarious nature of journalism careers.
Her observations about the role of a critic feel especially relevant in today's influencer-dominated landscape. She articulates a philosophy that prizes cultural context over mere gustatory pleasure:
"I'm looking for a sense of place, experiences that could only be had in a particular country or city. I'm looking for the food that you might travel across the world to get."
Finding Home: The Return to Australia
What gives the memoir its emotional center is Rodell's eventual return to Australia, a homecoming complicated by the illness and death of her father and the struggle of her husband and son to adapt to a new country. The Food & Wine assignment that sends her traveling around the world to compile a list of the best restaurants becomes both a professional triumph and a personal reckoning with what matters most.
In these sections, Rodell's writing achieves a vulnerable quality that contrasts with the tougher persona she cultivated earlier in her career. Her description of a moment with her son Felix on a trampoline in Los Angeles - "It was the best moment of my life. Nothing else will ever come close" - reveals the tender heart beneath the critic's necessarily tough exterior.
Where the Narrative Occasionally Falters
For all its strengths, the memoir isn't without flaws:
- The middle sections sometimes meander, with anecdotes that, while interesting, don't always advance the overall narrative
- Rodell's focus on certain influential men in her life (Jonathan Gold, Anthony Bourdain) occasionally overshadows her own story
- Some of the industry commentary feels slightly dated in the post-#MeToo era
- The chronology can be confusing, with jumps between time periods that sometimes require re-orientation
However, these are minor criticisms of what is overall a remarkably candid and insightful account of one woman's journey through the food world.
The Final Course: A Meditation on Loss and Pleasure
Rodell ends her memoir with a reflection on the death of Anthony Bourdain, whose influence on her work and the entire food world is undeniable. Her connection of personal grief (symbolized by a heart-shaped bruise from a fall the night of his death) to broader questions about the pursuit of pleasure in a painful world provides a moving conclusion.
"Writing is painful. Life is f*cking painful. And darkly, wickedly comical. And because of that, the pursuit of connection and pleasure, be it at a table or in the pages of a book or over a glass of whiskey, is vital."
This sentiment encapsulates what makes "Hunger Like a Thirst" so compelling. It's not just about food or restaurants or criticism. It's about how we construct meaning and find connection in a world that can be both brutally harsh and unexpectedly beautiful - sometimes in the same moment, like a heart-shaped bruise.
Rodell's narrative voice is refreshingly direct - sometimes uncomfortably so - as she charts her journey from a displaced Australian teenager in America to becoming one of the world's most respected (and stubbornly anonymous) restaurant critics. What elevates this memoir above the crowded shelf of food-adjacent memoirs is Rodell's refusal to romanticize the often toxic restaurant culture that both shaped and nearly broke her.
The Outsider's Perspective That Defined a Career
Born in a bungalow on an Australian farm aptly named "Narnia," Rodell's life story reads almost like fiction in its unlikely trajectory. Her first formative food experience wasn't at some Michelin-starred temple of gastronomy but at Melbourne's grandest restaurant, Stephanie's, where she was taken as a nine-year-old by a friend's father. This early glimpse into the world of high-end dining planted a seed of fascination with not just the food, but the theater of restaurants themselves.
When her mother relocated the family to America when Rodell was fourteen, that outsider perspective became both a burden and eventually her greatest asset. She writes with searing honesty about how this displacement shaped her identity:
"Leaving is the key event of your life—you spend all the time after trying to reconcile the person you were when you belonged somewhere with the displaced person you've become."
This sense of never quite belonging allowed Rodell to observe restaurant culture with a critical eye that those born into it might lack. Her depictions of working at "Goldie's" (a stand-in for a real restaurant in North Carolina) capture the intoxicating energy, casual misogyny, and often predatory dynamics of restaurant work in the late 1990s with unflinching clarity.
Beyond the Michelin Stars: A History Lesson Served on the Side
What distinguishes "Hunger Like a Thirst" from typical food memoirs is Rodell's intellectual curiosity about the deeper currents shaping American dining culture. Between chapters of personal narrative, she weaves in fascinating historical context about:
- The development of cafeterias as working-class dining options
- How Howard Johnson's pioneered the "comfort of sameness" that defines American chain restaurants
- The cultural shifts that transformed cocktails from sophisticated adult beverages to sugary, sexual-innuendo-laden concoctions
- The evolution of service styles across different cultures
These sections elevate the memoir beyond personal reminiscence into something more substantial - a thoughtful examination of how dining culture reflects broader societal values and changes. When Rodell observes that "dining out was never something I took for granted; every meal felt like a pilgrimage to a temple belonging to a religion not my own but to which I aspired," she's articulating how food becomes intertwined with class aspiration and cultural belonging.
The Gender Question That Pervades the Industry
Throughout the book, Rodell confronts the gendered expectations that shaped her career. As a woman in the predominantly male worlds of both restaurant kitchens and food criticism, she learned to adopt a certain toughness:
"I have taken a fair amount of pleasure from this distinction and harbored a sense of pride that I was tough enough, that I could roll with the inappropriate humor and pirate ship mentality."
Yet she grapples honestly with how this adaptation ultimately reinforces the very systems that make the industry so inhospitable to many women. Her friendship with Michelle, the intimidating pastry chef from Goldie's who later opens her own café in San Francisco, provides a poignant case study. Despite Michelle's talent and drive to create a more humane workplace, the ingrained toxicity of restaurant culture proves nearly impossible to escape.
Rodell writes with particular insight about how women in authority positions face double standards: "If you are a woman in the restaurant industry, or any industry, the expectation is that you will be soft. You're not allowed to have the hard edges and straightforward mannerisms of the men in the same position."
The Critic's Journey: From Alt-Weekly to The New York Times
The narrative of how Rodell established herself as a critic makes for compelling reading, especially for those interested in the changing landscape of food media. Her start at the alternative weekly Creative Loafing in Atlanta, followed by her replacement of Jonathan Gold at LA Weekly, and eventual work for The New York Times showcases both her determination and the precarious nature of journalism careers.
Her observations about the role of a critic feel especially relevant in today's influencer-dominated landscape. She articulates a philosophy that prizes cultural context over mere gustatory pleasure:
"I'm looking for a sense of place, experiences that could only be had in a particular country or city. I'm looking for the food that you might travel across the world to get."
Finding Home: The Return to Australia
What gives the memoir its emotional center is Rodell's eventual return to Australia, a homecoming complicated by the illness and death of her father and the struggle of her husband and son to adapt to a new country. The Food & Wine assignment that sends her traveling around the world to compile a list of the best restaurants becomes both a professional triumph and a personal reckoning with what matters most.
In these sections, Rodell's writing achieves a vulnerable quality that contrasts with the tougher persona she cultivated earlier in her career. Her description of a moment with her son Felix on a trampoline in Los Angeles - "It was the best moment of my life. Nothing else will ever come close" - reveals the tender heart beneath the critic's necessarily tough exterior.
Where the Narrative Occasionally Falters
For all its strengths, the memoir isn't without flaws:
- The middle sections sometimes meander, with anecdotes that, while interesting, don't always advance the overall narrative
- Rodell's focus on certain influential men in her life (Jonathan Gold, Anthony Bourdain) occasionally overshadows her own story
- Some of the industry commentary feels slightly dated in the post-#MeToo era
- The chronology can be confusing, with jumps between time periods that sometimes require re-orientation
However, these are minor criticisms of what is overall a remarkably candid and insightful account of one woman's journey through the food world.
The Final Course: A Meditation on Loss and Pleasure
Rodell ends her memoir with a reflection on the death of Anthony Bourdain, whose influence on her work and the entire food world is undeniable. Her connection of personal grief (symbolized by a heart-shaped bruise from a fall the night of his death) to broader questions about the pursuit of pleasure in a painful world provides a moving conclusion.
"Writing is painful. Life is f*cking painful. And darkly, wickedly comical. And because of that, the pursuit of connection and pleasure, be it at a table or in the pages of a book or over a glass of whiskey, is vital."
This sentiment encapsulates what makes "Hunger Like a Thirst" so compelling. It's not just about food or restaurants or criticism. It's about how we construct meaning and find connection in a world that can be both brutally harsh and unexpectedly beautiful - sometimes in the same moment, like a heart-shaped bruise.
September 24, 2025
I won a free book from Celadon publishing company in exchange for an honest book review.
Besha Rodell is a two time James Beard Award winner. First for her article "From the Farm to Your Table" Creative Loafing (Atlanta, GA) 2006 food issue. Second for her essay "40 ounces to freedom" from the 2014 Punch magazine. Additionally, she has written for Travel + Leisure, and Food & Wine and as a former restaurant critic for LA Weekly, The New York Times, and Creative Loafing (Atlanta, GA).
A memoir of her personal journey, including her move from Australia to the United States at the age of fourteen. In addition, her love for restaurant food at a young age which, led to her eventual path to becoming a restaurant critic in a traditionally male-dominated position.
I enjoy reading about her description of her experiences working in restaurants and the community that became her second family. Moreover, her struggles with food insecurity together with living on food stamps. Furthermore, I love the history of food culture and restaurant service.
Being a fan of Anthony Bourdain, I appreciate that the book's structure was inspired by the table of contents of Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential. Also, in her epilogue (entitled Tony), she reflects on the loss of Bourdain and admits to her own struggles with depression.
Finally, I found it humorous that the phrase "Hunger Like a Thirst" is a lyric from the Liz Phair song "Exile in Guyville".
Besha Rodell is a two time James Beard Award winner. First for her article "From the Farm to Your Table" Creative Loafing (Atlanta, GA) 2006 food issue. Second for her essay "40 ounces to freedom" from the 2014 Punch magazine. Additionally, she has written for Travel + Leisure, and Food & Wine and as a former restaurant critic for LA Weekly, The New York Times, and Creative Loafing (Atlanta, GA).
A memoir of her personal journey, including her move from Australia to the United States at the age of fourteen. In addition, her love for restaurant food at a young age which, led to her eventual path to becoming a restaurant critic in a traditionally male-dominated position.
I enjoy reading about her description of her experiences working in restaurants and the community that became her second family. Moreover, her struggles with food insecurity together with living on food stamps. Furthermore, I love the history of food culture and restaurant service.
Being a fan of Anthony Bourdain, I appreciate that the book's structure was inspired by the table of contents of Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential. Also, in her epilogue (entitled Tony), she reflects on the loss of Bourdain and admits to her own struggles with depression.
Finally, I found it humorous that the phrase "Hunger Like a Thirst" is a lyric from the Liz Phair song "Exile in Guyville".
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 24, 2025
The book don’t flow well, it was largely chronological but then she’d throw in some random essays.
I always appreciate frank talk about money but it was hard to read about her moving to different states, cross country and even from the US to Australia for jobs that not only didn’t pay a living wage but ones what stopped her chef husband from working in restaurants and required a huge amount of time, travel and effort on her part. Then she would go on and on about how they didn’t have money for food at their own house and couldn’t pay the bills. They did have a child. A child who seemed miserable for long chunks of time. It seemed like a very stressful situation and it kept repeating itself because she kept making the same choices.
Her mother left her sister with them early in their marriage and her career and then didn’t give them financial support. She would pay out of pocket for extra meals to write a better review. Why didn’t she push back on this? Why did she accept the crumbs people offered to her and not said she needed more time and more money? It felt like she constantly felt like it would lead to something better and she was paying her dues but it went on for decades and she doesn’t seem much better off than when she started. Which is fine but she didn’t seem happy in her day to day life.
I always appreciate frank talk about money but it was hard to read about her moving to different states, cross country and even from the US to Australia for jobs that not only didn’t pay a living wage but ones what stopped her chef husband from working in restaurants and required a huge amount of time, travel and effort on her part. Then she would go on and on about how they didn’t have money for food at their own house and couldn’t pay the bills. They did have a child. A child who seemed miserable for long chunks of time. It seemed like a very stressful situation and it kept repeating itself because she kept making the same choices.
Her mother left her sister with them early in their marriage and her career and then didn’t give them financial support. She would pay out of pocket for extra meals to write a better review. Why didn’t she push back on this? Why did she accept the crumbs people offered to her and not said she needed more time and more money? It felt like she constantly felt like it would lead to something better and she was paying her dues but it went on for decades and she doesn’t seem much better off than when she started. Which is fine but she didn’t seem happy in her day to day life.
September 15, 2025
Loved this book!
May 21, 2025
*** I received a free copy of this book through a Goodreads Giveaway in exchange for an honest review ***
5 Stars - Hunger Like a Thirst is a nice balance of stories about Rodell’s life mixed with restaurant/food history and reviews of restaurants. I enjoyed her very down-to-earth storytelling and witty humor. I appreciated her willingness to share the darker side of the food industry and working as a restaurant critic while also acknowledging all the amazing benefits of her career choices.
The book will interest both those who work in the food industry and those unfamiliar with it. I’ve always had an interest in fine dining which is what first drew me to the book, but I’ve never worked in the food industry. Despite being unfamiliar with the culture of the industry, Rodell’s writing makes it very easy to grasp the dynamics.
I love the descriptions of all the different locations. I’ve never been to Georgia but Rodell’s writing makes me believe I would truly enjoy spending time in Atlanta. I would have loved to hear more about all the different places she traveled while compiling the list of the thirty best restaurants. This was the one part of the book that I thought could have been expanded, otherwise all the other sections felt like an ideal length.
I don’t typically read memoirs, but this one really captured my interest in a way the others haven’t. I particularly enjoyed the story about Eater attempting to publish a photo of Rodell, but instead mistakenly publishing a photo of a woman with a very unusual haircut, because they couldn’t differentiate a photo credit from a photo caption. It’s a nice blend of humor and heartfelt stories that make the book truly captivating.
Thank you so much for the copy of this book. It was a delight to read.
5 Stars - Hunger Like a Thirst is a nice balance of stories about Rodell’s life mixed with restaurant/food history and reviews of restaurants. I enjoyed her very down-to-earth storytelling and witty humor. I appreciated her willingness to share the darker side of the food industry and working as a restaurant critic while also acknowledging all the amazing benefits of her career choices.
The book will interest both those who work in the food industry and those unfamiliar with it. I’ve always had an interest in fine dining which is what first drew me to the book, but I’ve never worked in the food industry. Despite being unfamiliar with the culture of the industry, Rodell’s writing makes it very easy to grasp the dynamics.
I love the descriptions of all the different locations. I’ve never been to Georgia but Rodell’s writing makes me believe I would truly enjoy spending time in Atlanta. I would have loved to hear more about all the different places she traveled while compiling the list of the thirty best restaurants. This was the one part of the book that I thought could have been expanded, otherwise all the other sections felt like an ideal length.
I don’t typically read memoirs, but this one really captured my interest in a way the others haven’t. I particularly enjoyed the story about Eater attempting to publish a photo of Rodell, but instead mistakenly publishing a photo of a woman with a very unusual haircut, because they couldn’t differentiate a photo credit from a photo caption. It’s a nice blend of humor and heartfelt stories that make the book truly captivating.
Thank you so much for the copy of this book. It was a delight to read.
April 4, 2025
I had never heard of Besha Rodell when I decided to read her memoir about her life as a James Beard Award-winning food writer. I only chose to read it because I like books about food and about people who like food. Hers is a fantastic addition to that category of books.
It’s about what it’s like to be a food critic (she previously worked for The New York Times, Food & Wine, and LA Weekly), it’s about dining culture and the evolving world of food writing, and a memoir about her life more broadly. She chronicles her moves to and from her home country of Australia and to small towns in North Carolina and Atlanta (my hometown and a place that she writes lovingly about, so fellow Atlantans will enjoy that about the book) and Los Angeles.
She talks about complex family dynamics and relationships. And she talks about her own relationship with her work. What I found most relatable was her writing about her struggle between her personal identity and her professional identity and the ways in which those do and don’t overlap. The struggles of maintaining work-life balance when so much of your life and ambition and ego is tied up in your work.
Besha is not Anthony Bourdain or Ruth Reichl or Jonathan Gold, but you can tell her work has been inspired by all of them and is the better for it. I recommend this book to any reader who is a fan of those folks or of food writing in general. You’re in for a delicious meal!
It’s about what it’s like to be a food critic (she previously worked for The New York Times, Food & Wine, and LA Weekly), it’s about dining culture and the evolving world of food writing, and a memoir about her life more broadly. She chronicles her moves to and from her home country of Australia and to small towns in North Carolina and Atlanta (my hometown and a place that she writes lovingly about, so fellow Atlantans will enjoy that about the book) and Los Angeles.
She talks about complex family dynamics and relationships. And she talks about her own relationship with her work. What I found most relatable was her writing about her struggle between her personal identity and her professional identity and the ways in which those do and don’t overlap. The struggles of maintaining work-life balance when so much of your life and ambition and ego is tied up in your work.
Besha is not Anthony Bourdain or Ruth Reichl or Jonathan Gold, but you can tell her work has been inspired by all of them and is the better for it. I recommend this book to any reader who is a fan of those folks or of food writing in general. You’re in for a delicious meal!
April 15, 2025
This book is far from my usual fare of mystery, crime and thriller novels, but when I saw the subject matter, I just had to read it. Mind you, I'm far removed from the author's noteworthy standing among professional restaurant critics/food writers, but I do pen a local restaurant review blog and for several years wrote a review column and other food-related articles for a regional business newspaper. Thus, I'm super-interested in the topic. And indeed, reading it was a pure delight.
Mind you, this is not a book of restaurant reviews (and certainly not recipes); it's a look at the author's look through her own eyes from the time she immigrated to the United States from Australia at age 14 to the present, when she's come full circle to return to the land of her birth. Along the way, needless to say, she's encountered many challenges as a woman in a man's world (quick: how many female restaurants critics can you name?) and as an "outsider" everywhere except in her native country as well as racked up almost too many achievements to count. Wedged somewhere in between those is dealing with a husband - himself a chef - and child as careers collide, money ebbs and flows and publications willing to pay someone to write about food drop like dumplings in hot broth.
All told, it was a very engaging and enjoyable journey - and I thank the publisher for giving me the chance to tag along. Well done!
Mind you, this is not a book of restaurant reviews (and certainly not recipes); it's a look at the author's look through her own eyes from the time she immigrated to the United States from Australia at age 14 to the present, when she's come full circle to return to the land of her birth. Along the way, needless to say, she's encountered many challenges as a woman in a man's world (quick: how many female restaurants critics can you name?) and as an "outsider" everywhere except in her native country as well as racked up almost too many achievements to count. Wedged somewhere in between those is dealing with a husband - himself a chef - and child as careers collide, money ebbs and flows and publications willing to pay someone to write about food drop like dumplings in hot broth.
All told, it was a very engaging and enjoyable journey - and I thank the publisher for giving me the chance to tag along. Well done!
May 14, 2025
Hunger Like a Thirst by Besha Rodell is like sinking your teeth into the perfect croissant—flaky, warm, layered, and unexpectedly emotional in the best way. This isn’t just a memoir—it’s a full-course meal of memories, flavor, sass, and soul.
Rodell takes you from awkward teenage expat in the U.S. to full-blown culinary super woman, one bite (and heartbreak) at a time. You can practically taste the longing in her early days—missing her friends, her dad, and the comforting flavors of her Australian childhood. But it’s in the greasy, chaotic underworld of restaurant kitchens where she truly comes alive. There’s sweat, spilled wine, salty language, and enough butter to make Paula Deen blush.
Her writing is smart and sharp, like a well-aged parmesan, but with the warmth of a favorite comfort dish. You’ll feel the buzz of Brooklyn streets, the steamy kitchens of Atlanta, and the golden glow of LA sunsets as she dishes out the highs and lows of being one of the last anonymous food critics on earth. (Yes, she wore wigs. Yes, I screamed.)
It’s funny, fierce, and full of flavor—kind of like if Anthony Bourdain and Nora Ephron had a literary baby who loved dumplings. If you’ve ever had a meal that made you feel something big, Hunger Like a Thirst will speak to your soul…and your stomach. Five stars, and now I’m starving.
Rodell takes you from awkward teenage expat in the U.S. to full-blown culinary super woman, one bite (and heartbreak) at a time. You can practically taste the longing in her early days—missing her friends, her dad, and the comforting flavors of her Australian childhood. But it’s in the greasy, chaotic underworld of restaurant kitchens where she truly comes alive. There’s sweat, spilled wine, salty language, and enough butter to make Paula Deen blush.
Her writing is smart and sharp, like a well-aged parmesan, but with the warmth of a favorite comfort dish. You’ll feel the buzz of Brooklyn streets, the steamy kitchens of Atlanta, and the golden glow of LA sunsets as she dishes out the highs and lows of being one of the last anonymous food critics on earth. (Yes, she wore wigs. Yes, I screamed.)
It’s funny, fierce, and full of flavor—kind of like if Anthony Bourdain and Nora Ephron had a literary baby who loved dumplings. If you’ve ever had a meal that made you feel something big, Hunger Like a Thirst will speak to your soul…and your stomach. Five stars, and now I’m starving.
May 15, 2025
I was lucky enough to receive an ARC of this book from Celadon Books. I dove in expecting to casually explore a few food stories—but quickly found myself slowing down to truly savor the journey Besha Rodell takes us on.
Her writing feels like a conversation with a kindred spirit. She blends the glamor and grit of being a food critic with just the right sprinkle of random history. As someone who used to work BOH myself, this book made me nostalgic for all the incredible food I once had (but definitely not the lifestyle that came with it).
Rodell is sharp, funny, and refreshingly real. I could’ve read several more chapters if they existed. And honestly—it was such a joy to read a food memoir written unapologetically from a female perspective. I recommend taking your time to relax and relish in this book. In a world where it feels like everyone is releasing a memoir, I’m glad this one made it into my hands.
Also: TENS all around for the shoutout to Bacchanal in New Orleans. One of the best spots I’ve ever been to!
Her writing feels like a conversation with a kindred spirit. She blends the glamor and grit of being a food critic with just the right sprinkle of random history. As someone who used to work BOH myself, this book made me nostalgic for all the incredible food I once had (but definitely not the lifestyle that came with it).
Rodell is sharp, funny, and refreshingly real. I could’ve read several more chapters if they existed. And honestly—it was such a joy to read a food memoir written unapologetically from a female perspective. I recommend taking your time to relax and relish in this book. In a world where it feels like everyone is releasing a memoir, I’m glad this one made it into my hands.
Also: TENS all around for the shoutout to Bacchanal in New Orleans. One of the best spots I’ve ever been to!
March 14, 2025
This is a beautifully written memoir from someone who has lived many lives in many different places. I loved that not only did Rodell write about her life and the intricacies of a job that people dream about but also interspersed histories - of food, of drinks, of people, of a region. I also loved reading about Jonathan Gold and Bourdain in relation to people who knew them and the impact those personalities had on the food world. I was interested in hearing more about how her job and moving so often impacted those around her - it felt glossed over. I thought her traveling back and forth across the globe for jobs sounded both enviable and stressful and it's been revelatory hearing about other people's experiences during COVID. Really enjoyed this and would highly recommend!
I received an ARC from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
I received an ARC from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
March 25, 2025
“The best meals, the best restaurant reviews, the best memoirs do more: more than simply feed you; more than simply assign a thumbs up or thumbs down; more than just tell the story of one person‘s life. The best of all of these things teaches you something bigger, about pleasure, about culture, about why we are who we are.”
In Hunger Like a Thirst, Besha Rodell invites readers into a world where food is not just sustenance but a lens through which she examines her life, her identity, and the complexities of her relationships. As a memoir of a food critic, Rodell’s narrative is not only about the art of reviewing restaurants but about the emotional hunger that drives her to seek meaning in both her professional and personal life.
Rodell’s writing is candid and immersive, offering a raw look at the challenges of being a woman in a high-pressure, male-dominated industry. She explores her experiences with an unflinching honesty, touching on her struggles with body image, the loneliness that often accompanies her work, and the toll that an intense, food-centric life has on her mental and physical health. The memoir is not just a love letter to food; it’s a deep exploration of how food, consumption, and desire are intertwined with the larger themes of self-worth, belonging, and ambition.
One of the book’s strengths is how it deconstructs the role of a food critic. It’s easy to think of food critics as detached, professional tastemakers, but Rodell pulls back the curtain on the emotional labor that goes into writing about food. She skillfully blends personal anecdotes with critiques of the food world, showing how her own story is woven into the larger narrative of culinary culture. There’s an underlying tension between her love for food and her sense of guilt about the privilege she holds as someone who critiques and consumes it for a living.
Rodell also delves into the complexities of identity — particularly her experiences as an outsider, both within the world of food criticism and in her own community. She’s an Australian transplant to the United States, and this cultural dislocation adds another layer to her sense of being an observer rather than a participant. This sense of “otherness” becomes a key theme in the memoir, shaping her perspective on food and her place in the world.
At its heart, Hunger Like a Thirst is about the human need for connection, both with others and with oneself. Rodell’s writing is deeply introspective, asking difficult questions about what it means to consume — not just food, but experiences, relationships, and even life itself. The memoir moves beyond the boundaries of the food world to touch on universal themes of fulfillment, desire, and self-discovery.
Ultimately, Hunger Like a Thirst is a compelling, nuanced exploration of a food critic’s life, one that is as much about the personal and emotional journey as it is about the culinary one. Rodell’s blend of humor, insight, and vulnerability makes for a memoir that is both a feast for the senses and a thought-provoking reflection on the hunger that resides within us all. In Hunger Like a Thirst, Besha Rodell invites readers into a world where food is not just sustenance but a lens through which she examines her life, her identity, and the complexities of her relationships. As a memoir of a food critic, Rodell’s narrative is not only about the art of reviewing restaurants but about the emotional hunger that drives her to seek meaning in both her professional and personal life.
Rodell’s writing is candid and immersive, offering a raw look at the challenges of being a woman in a high-pressure, male-dominated industry. She explores her experiences with an unflinching honesty, touching on her struggles with body image, the loneliness that often accompanies her work, and the toll that an intense, food-centric life has on her mental and physical health. The memoir is not just a love letter to food; it’s a deep exploration of how food, consumption, and desire are intertwined with the larger themes of self-worth, belonging, and ambition.
One of the book’s strengths is how it deconstructs the role of a food critic. It’s easy to think of food critics as detached, professional tastemakers, but Rodell pulls back the curtain on the emotional labor that goes into writing about food. She skillfully blends personal anecdotes with critiques of the food world, showing how her own story is woven into the larger narrative of culinary culture. There’s an underlying tension between her love for food and her sense of guilt about the privilege she holds as someone who critiques and consumes it for a living.
Rodell also delves into the complexities of identity — particularly her experiences as an outsider, both within the world of food criticism and in her own community. She’s an Australian transplant to the United States, and this cultural dislocation adds another layer to her sense of being an observer rather than a participant. This sense of “otherness” becomes a key theme in the memoir, shaping her perspective on food and her place in the world.
At its heart, Hunger Like a Thirst is about the human need for connection, both with others and with oneself. Rodell’s writing is deeply introspective, asking difficult questions about what it means to consume — not just food, but experiences, relationships, and even life itself. The memoir moves beyond the boundaries of the food world to touch on universal themes of fulfillment, desire, and self-discovery.
Ultimately, Hunger Like a Thirst is a compelling, nuanced exploration of a food critic’s life, one that is as much about the personal and emotional journey as it is about the culinary one. Rodell’s blend of humor, insight, and vulnerability makes for a memoir that is both a feast for the senses and a thought-provoking reflection on the hunger that resides within us all.
My thanks to @Celadon Books for an advanced copy for review.
In Hunger Like a Thirst, Besha Rodell invites readers into a world where food is not just sustenance but a lens through which she examines her life, her identity, and the complexities of her relationships. As a memoir of a food critic, Rodell’s narrative is not only about the art of reviewing restaurants but about the emotional hunger that drives her to seek meaning in both her professional and personal life.
Rodell’s writing is candid and immersive, offering a raw look at the challenges of being a woman in a high-pressure, male-dominated industry. She explores her experiences with an unflinching honesty, touching on her struggles with body image, the loneliness that often accompanies her work, and the toll that an intense, food-centric life has on her mental and physical health. The memoir is not just a love letter to food; it’s a deep exploration of how food, consumption, and desire are intertwined with the larger themes of self-worth, belonging, and ambition.
One of the book’s strengths is how it deconstructs the role of a food critic. It’s easy to think of food critics as detached, professional tastemakers, but Rodell pulls back the curtain on the emotional labor that goes into writing about food. She skillfully blends personal anecdotes with critiques of the food world, showing how her own story is woven into the larger narrative of culinary culture. There’s an underlying tension between her love for food and her sense of guilt about the privilege she holds as someone who critiques and consumes it for a living.
Rodell also delves into the complexities of identity — particularly her experiences as an outsider, both within the world of food criticism and in her own community. She’s an Australian transplant to the United States, and this cultural dislocation adds another layer to her sense of being an observer rather than a participant. This sense of “otherness” becomes a key theme in the memoir, shaping her perspective on food and her place in the world.
At its heart, Hunger Like a Thirst is about the human need for connection, both with others and with oneself. Rodell’s writing is deeply introspective, asking difficult questions about what it means to consume — not just food, but experiences, relationships, and even life itself. The memoir moves beyond the boundaries of the food world to touch on universal themes of fulfillment, desire, and self-discovery.
Ultimately, Hunger Like a Thirst is a compelling, nuanced exploration of a food critic’s life, one that is as much about the personal and emotional journey as it is about the culinary one. Rodell’s blend of humor, insight, and vulnerability makes for a memoir that is both a feast for the senses and a thought-provoking reflection on the hunger that resides within us all. In Hunger Like a Thirst, Besha Rodell invites readers into a world where food is not just sustenance but a lens through which she examines her life, her identity, and the complexities of her relationships. As a memoir of a food critic, Rodell’s narrative is not only about the art of reviewing restaurants but about the emotional hunger that drives her to seek meaning in both her professional and personal life.
Rodell’s writing is candid and immersive, offering a raw look at the challenges of being a woman in a high-pressure, male-dominated industry. She explores her experiences with an unflinching honesty, touching on her struggles with body image, the loneliness that often accompanies her work, and the toll that an intense, food-centric life has on her mental and physical health. The memoir is not just a love letter to food; it’s a deep exploration of how food, consumption, and desire are intertwined with the larger themes of self-worth, belonging, and ambition.
One of the book’s strengths is how it deconstructs the role of a food critic. It’s easy to think of food critics as detached, professional tastemakers, but Rodell pulls back the curtain on the emotional labor that goes into writing about food. She skillfully blends personal anecdotes with critiques of the food world, showing how her own story is woven into the larger narrative of culinary culture. There’s an underlying tension between her love for food and her sense of guilt about the privilege she holds as someone who critiques and consumes it for a living.
Rodell also delves into the complexities of identity — particularly her experiences as an outsider, both within the world of food criticism and in her own community. She’s an Australian transplant to the United States, and this cultural dislocation adds another layer to her sense of being an observer rather than a participant. This sense of “otherness” becomes a key theme in the memoir, shaping her perspective on food and her place in the world.
At its heart, Hunger Like a Thirst is about the human need for connection, both with others and with oneself. Rodell’s writing is deeply introspective, asking difficult questions about what it means to consume — not just food, but experiences, relationships, and even life itself. The memoir moves beyond the boundaries of the food world to touch on universal themes of fulfillment, desire, and self-discovery.
Ultimately, Hunger Like a Thirst is a compelling, nuanced exploration of a food critic’s life, one that is as much about the personal and emotional journey as it is about the culinary one. Rodell’s blend of humor, insight, and vulnerability makes for a memoir that is both a feast for the senses and a thought-provoking reflection on the hunger that resides within us all.
My thanks to @Celadon Books for an advanced copy for review.
June 2, 2025
I have always felt that life in the restaurant industry is difficult, given the hard work, long hours, and competition. This memoir reinforces my beliefs and taught me that it is even harder for women who are trying to make their mark. Being a food critic while trying to be a wife and mother made for some difficult choices for the author. Her story is interesting and worth a read, especially if you are a foodie.
October 1, 2025
Besha Rodell had a unique background - she was born in Australia to an Australian father and American mother. After her parents split up, she and her mother and siblings moved back to the US. It was a hard adjustment for teenage Besha and she ended up dating a guy who worked in a restaurant. She ended up working in restaurants because while her family didn't have a lot of money, they had expensive tastes and working in expensive restaurants usually came with some expensive food perks. After meeting her husband, they live all over - New York City, Durham, NC, Atlanta, GA, Los Angeles, CA, and eventually back to Australia. All that moving was mainly for Besha's career as a food writer and critic. Hunger Like a Thirst tells her story of working in the food writing world, not quite as harsh as actually working in a restaurant kitchen, but close. Working as a food critic seems like a very hard job and she definitely shows both the pros and cons - especially as a parent. I really like her writing and her story/life is definitely unique and interesting. I like that she organized her story like the courses of a meal and it really worked with the book. Definitely worth reading if you're interested in food/dining/cooking at all.
June 3, 2025
3 Stars
This was an interesting book. It is worth reading if you are a foodie or a fan of food critics. I have to say it wasn't one of my favorite memoirs I have read. I found it a little off putting at times and then I would have a soft spot for her. I had a bit of a roller coaster time with it. While it wasn't for me I do think it was well written and others might enjoy it.
Thank you to Celadon books for the gifted copy to read and review.
This was an interesting book. It is worth reading if you are a foodie or a fan of food critics. I have to say it wasn't one of my favorite memoirs I have read. I found it a little off putting at times and then I would have a soft spot for her. I had a bit of a roller coaster time with it. While it wasn't for me I do think it was well written and others might enjoy it.
Thank you to Celadon books for the gifted copy to read and review.
October 1, 2025
I don't read a lot of restaurant reviews, mainly because I like to form my own opinion, but I do admire and envy those who get paid to eat in restaurants - or i did until I read about the grueling pace at which Besha Rodell had to work to get the restaurants reviewed. This book was eye-opening in so many ways. I learned so much more about what goes into these reviews and how hard she had to work to cobble together jobs to keep her family afloat as well as how much of her own money went into it. Most importantly, though, I got to know Besha Rodell (or as much as she was willing to share) and what motivated her to get into critique and how she consistently fought to make a name for herself. This book was interesting and enlightening. I enjoyed it so much despite not knowing who she was. Highly recommended for those who like stories about strong women who forge their own paths.
I received a copy from #NetGalley and #CeladonBooks for an honest review.
I received a copy from #NetGalley and #CeladonBooks for an honest review.
April 3, 2025
Everyone’s a critic, but not all critics are ninjas. Besha Rodell spent much of her career in stealth mode. Invisible. Faceless. If you look her up, you’ll find an abundance of food reviews, but for the majority of her career, she’s remained a self-imposed ghost haunting eateries in the states as well as internationally. You’re not supposed to know her face, but you will know her appetite and her heart, if you read her memoir, Hunger Like a Thirst out this May from Celadon Books. The memoir appeals to my armchair foodie self. But really it will appeal to anyone hustling to make their dreams come true.
The first part of the book is traditional autobiography, answering how does one become a famous food critic? In order to answer that question, we’re taken way, way back, via Rodell recalling her hippy mom and dad’s differing cooking styles. She also remembers her first high-end restaurant visit at age 8, which sets into motion a love for all that is “fancy.”
It isn’t until her 20’s, however, that she realizes the profound effect these foodie experiences have had. Rodell initially resists going to college and instead aims for a restaurant job. As a hostess, she exists on the fringes of the stereotypical restaurant family. The “types” she talks about are easily recognizable. The stereotypes are gritty yet endearing as watching an episode of The Bear and ultimately tragic as reading Anthony Bourdain’s romancing of the rock n’ roll lifestyle of the kitchen crew.
The path to food critic is not without its obstacles. For Rodell, the obstacles are domestic as well as industry-specific. She juggles motherhood and raising her teenage sister. She works to protect her marriage from the tension created when her career sometimes overshadows her husband’s culinary career.
There is also the obstacle of tradition and being a young woman in an industry that seemingly is male-dominated.
Rodell spends a significant amount of time providing an insightful history of restaurant criticism, only to show how she doesn’t fit. For example, most restaurant critics at the time focused on fancy restaurants. Rodell writes, “I don’t want to write about the places where rich people eat. I want to write about the weird little places serving cool, cheap things. I want to write about dive bars” (62-63). And she does just that, writing about the likes of Outback Steak House, Cracker Barrel, and TGI Fridays.
Her writing style also differs from the critics before her: “I was a friendly chat. I was not a symphony.” The reader is treated to a couple full-size examples of those articles. Honestly, I wished for more reviews, anthology-style, but I guess that’s what the Internet’s for.
Despite having “made it” in the industry, Rodell makes it clear the profession isn’t for the weak. Male critics obtain rock star status, while she slogged through less glamorous territory. She recalls writing 3 blog posts a day (imagine the pressure of having to post with frequency the sorts of articles that would garner a certain amount of website traffic!) She also recalls spending $13,000 of her own money the first year while dining out in order to even have fodder for the reviews. In later years, she experienced loneliness, exhaustion, and illness while world traveling for the sake of her reviews.
I’m not sure I knew, before reading this memoir, that the adage, “if you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen” applies as much to food critics as it does to those working back of house. Some are irreparably damaged by it, and Rodell writes about those lost souls (Anthony Bourdain included) with great sensitivity. However the industry evolves, that heat will continually test those who choose to be near it. Rodell’s story says some will be burnished, made better, more tenacious by virtue of that heat.
The first part of the book is traditional autobiography, answering how does one become a famous food critic? In order to answer that question, we’re taken way, way back, via Rodell recalling her hippy mom and dad’s differing cooking styles. She also remembers her first high-end restaurant visit at age 8, which sets into motion a love for all that is “fancy.”
It isn’t until her 20’s, however, that she realizes the profound effect these foodie experiences have had. Rodell initially resists going to college and instead aims for a restaurant job. As a hostess, she exists on the fringes of the stereotypical restaurant family. The “types” she talks about are easily recognizable. The stereotypes are gritty yet endearing as watching an episode of The Bear and ultimately tragic as reading Anthony Bourdain’s romancing of the rock n’ roll lifestyle of the kitchen crew.
The path to food critic is not without its obstacles. For Rodell, the obstacles are domestic as well as industry-specific. She juggles motherhood and raising her teenage sister. She works to protect her marriage from the tension created when her career sometimes overshadows her husband’s culinary career.
There is also the obstacle of tradition and being a young woman in an industry that seemingly is male-dominated.
Rodell spends a significant amount of time providing an insightful history of restaurant criticism, only to show how she doesn’t fit. For example, most restaurant critics at the time focused on fancy restaurants. Rodell writes, “I don’t want to write about the places where rich people eat. I want to write about the weird little places serving cool, cheap things. I want to write about dive bars” (62-63). And she does just that, writing about the likes of Outback Steak House, Cracker Barrel, and TGI Fridays.
Her writing style also differs from the critics before her: “I was a friendly chat. I was not a symphony.” The reader is treated to a couple full-size examples of those articles. Honestly, I wished for more reviews, anthology-style, but I guess that’s what the Internet’s for.
Despite having “made it” in the industry, Rodell makes it clear the profession isn’t for the weak. Male critics obtain rock star status, while she slogged through less glamorous territory. She recalls writing 3 blog posts a day (imagine the pressure of having to post with frequency the sorts of articles that would garner a certain amount of website traffic!) She also recalls spending $13,000 of her own money the first year while dining out in order to even have fodder for the reviews. In later years, she experienced loneliness, exhaustion, and illness while world traveling for the sake of her reviews.
I’m not sure I knew, before reading this memoir, that the adage, “if you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen” applies as much to food critics as it does to those working back of house. Some are irreparably damaged by it, and Rodell writes about those lost souls (Anthony Bourdain included) with great sensitivity. However the industry evolves, that heat will continually test those who choose to be near it. Rodell’s story says some will be burnished, made better, more tenacious by virtue of that heat.
April 23, 2025
I’ve found food critics to come across as so pretentious, rubbing it in that they’ve dined at the best places, describing elements of entrees I’ve never heard of with an unnecessary amount of adjectives, but Besha Rodell isn’t that type of food critic. She’s down to get into the muck and mire of a Waffle House for 24 hours or dissect what the appeal is of an Outback Steakhouse. Amongst the popular chain restaurants, she’s here to educate about sheep to table service, her distaste of small plates and the luxury of service and food. You may know nothing about famous food critics or even fancy restaurants but it doesn’t matter because Besha gives you a brief run down on what matters.
I love the way she broke down the book from the appetizer of her early beginnings, the entree of criticism and her place within that role, and the dessert of why dining out and experiencing new foods appeals to so many of us. I appreciated her honesty about how hard it was at points in her life money wise and how alien it felt to live in certain places. That candor made her so endearing and pushed me to read on. The Interlude (smack in the middle of my entree and dessert) was an article previously published in 2013, and it really took me out of my food journey and into a food coma. I understand that the reader was given a break from the memoir and given a real review Besha wrote. We’re able to read her growth and enjoy a new perspective on where some of our food comes from, but it was too dry coming from her savory life story. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy the other excerpts included throughout the book. I loved her article about Outback Steakhouse! The deep dive on TGI Fridays brought back so many memories of being in my 20s. The sheep farmer just didn’t do it for me.
I gravitate towards her desire to eat at a fancy restaurant with no money as well as sitting in a Waffle House not because the food is good but because it provides comfort. I enjoy the insights on drinks, food and beverages from our 20s and how our tastes and the culture have evolved. This book runs the gamut and the little deep dives of history are rich. I first thought this would be a book describing meal after meal but what I got was an incredible education on the life of a critic, the history of restaurants/cafeterias and the importance of service. If you read Sweetbitter or watched Mildred Pierce or The Harvey Girls, this book won’t disappoint. If you don’t know any of those references, pick this up anyways because we all love to eat and there’s bound to be something that wets your appetite.
Thank you to Celedon Books for this ARC via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
I love the way she broke down the book from the appetizer of her early beginnings, the entree of criticism and her place within that role, and the dessert of why dining out and experiencing new foods appeals to so many of us. I appreciated her honesty about how hard it was at points in her life money wise and how alien it felt to live in certain places. That candor made her so endearing and pushed me to read on. The Interlude (smack in the middle of my entree and dessert) was an article previously published in 2013, and it really took me out of my food journey and into a food coma. I understand that the reader was given a break from the memoir and given a real review Besha wrote. We’re able to read her growth and enjoy a new perspective on where some of our food comes from, but it was too dry coming from her savory life story. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy the other excerpts included throughout the book. I loved her article about Outback Steakhouse! The deep dive on TGI Fridays brought back so many memories of being in my 20s. The sheep farmer just didn’t do it for me.
I gravitate towards her desire to eat at a fancy restaurant with no money as well as sitting in a Waffle House not because the food is good but because it provides comfort. I enjoy the insights on drinks, food and beverages from our 20s and how our tastes and the culture have evolved. This book runs the gamut and the little deep dives of history are rich. I first thought this would be a book describing meal after meal but what I got was an incredible education on the life of a critic, the history of restaurants/cafeterias and the importance of service. If you read Sweetbitter or watched Mildred Pierce or The Harvey Girls, this book won’t disappoint. If you don’t know any of those references, pick this up anyways because we all love to eat and there’s bound to be something that wets your appetite.
Thank you to Celedon Books for this ARC via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
May 16, 2025
"How did I get here?
And, perhaps even more baffling, how did we all get here? To a place where food is important enough that some publication or other might foot the bill for my wild adventures—while eating became so deeply ingrained in the zeitgeist that we now have celebrity shepherds and debates over the best Thai food in the middle of the Australian outback?
The answers are, appropriately and improbably, gloriously entangled."*
I love that Besha Rodell ends her introduction with this thought—fittingly placed in a section titled Amuse-Bouche. It sets the tone for a book that is just as bold, curious, and refreshingly honest—filled with a keen eye for wit, humor, and a sense of Rodell herself—a delightful mix of self-awareness and self-deprecation.
As with all her writing, Rodell is a straight shooter—she tells it as she sees it, feels it, tastes it, and, perhaps most importantly, remembers it. This book isn’t just a memoir of her years as a food writer—it’s a reflection on the life and experiences that shaped the passion behind her career. For her, “This is a book of my memories and experiences; as we all know, memory is a fickle beast. But I have done my best to reflect those experiences as accurately as possible,” she writes. And with that, the book becomes more than just a food memoir—it’s an invitation to explore the deep subjectivity of taste, memory, and criticism itself.
Because what is food criticism, really, if not deeply personal? A dish isn’t simply good or bad—it carries history, nostalgia, and deeply personal associations. One person’s comfort food may be another’s painful reminder; a single plate may evoke joy for one and sorrow for another. Rodell acknowledges this complexity with nuanced reflection, making it clear that every review—no matter how objective—comes wrapped in personal experience.
This book is as much a deep dive into Rodell’s lifelong relationship with food as it is a reflection on the art of culinary storytelling. It unfolds like a map of her life, charted through dishes, restaurants, and moments that shaped her journey. Told with passion, humor, and the same keen eye that makes her food reviews immersive, this memoir pulls back the curtain on the world of food writing in the most engaging and thought-provoking way.
It’s not just about the meals—it’s about the moments they create, the memories they hold, and the stories they tell.
Thank you Celadon Press for sharing and ARC of this book with me for review. All of these thoughts are my own and freely given.
And, perhaps even more baffling, how did we all get here? To a place where food is important enough that some publication or other might foot the bill for my wild adventures—while eating became so deeply ingrained in the zeitgeist that we now have celebrity shepherds and debates over the best Thai food in the middle of the Australian outback?
The answers are, appropriately and improbably, gloriously entangled."*
I love that Besha Rodell ends her introduction with this thought—fittingly placed in a section titled Amuse-Bouche. It sets the tone for a book that is just as bold, curious, and refreshingly honest—filled with a keen eye for wit, humor, and a sense of Rodell herself—a delightful mix of self-awareness and self-deprecation.
As with all her writing, Rodell is a straight shooter—she tells it as she sees it, feels it, tastes it, and, perhaps most importantly, remembers it. This book isn’t just a memoir of her years as a food writer—it’s a reflection on the life and experiences that shaped the passion behind her career. For her, “This is a book of my memories and experiences; as we all know, memory is a fickle beast. But I have done my best to reflect those experiences as accurately as possible,” she writes. And with that, the book becomes more than just a food memoir—it’s an invitation to explore the deep subjectivity of taste, memory, and criticism itself.
Because what is food criticism, really, if not deeply personal? A dish isn’t simply good or bad—it carries history, nostalgia, and deeply personal associations. One person’s comfort food may be another’s painful reminder; a single plate may evoke joy for one and sorrow for another. Rodell acknowledges this complexity with nuanced reflection, making it clear that every review—no matter how objective—comes wrapped in personal experience.
This book is as much a deep dive into Rodell’s lifelong relationship with food as it is a reflection on the art of culinary storytelling. It unfolds like a map of her life, charted through dishes, restaurants, and moments that shaped her journey. Told with passion, humor, and the same keen eye that makes her food reviews immersive, this memoir pulls back the curtain on the world of food writing in the most engaging and thought-provoking way.
It’s not just about the meals—it’s about the moments they create, the memories they hold, and the stories they tell.
Thank you Celadon Press for sharing and ARC of this book with me for review. All of these thoughts are my own and freely given.
April 14, 2025
Food writing is always a genre I enjoy, so when this memoir from a restaurant critic came up on Net Galley to request, I jumped at it. Ms Rodell held positions on papers in New York Atlanta, then Los Angeles, and finally back to her home in Australia where she grew up. She is a James Beard Award winner and served as restaurant critic for LA Weekly and The New York Times. The book is well organized for the first half, then tends to jump around a bit in time towards the end. It was very interesting to see her approach to the job as a question of why more than a question of what. Critics usually tell readers what they ate, how it was prepared and tasted, level of service and so on. Of course she did some of that. But she began to wonder about why people eat where they do, what makes Waffle House such a ubiquitous restaurant of comfort food? What is it about mid-price restaurant chains like Applebees that makes them so popular? She goes in to detail how Outback Steakhouse is not Australian, and how it was purely a marketing ploy, but the popularity is based in familiarity and reasonably priced meals. She goes into some history, which was very interesting, touching on Harvey House and Howard Johnsons. When she gets to 2020, her covid experiences are glossed over. What could have been a wonderful insight into how restaurants weathered or failed during lockdown and after would have been very interesting to read, but she skipped over it. From there, the book seemed to falter a bit, as she began to rant against the prejudice in the industry against women, the toll it takes on family as she traveled, how poorly free lance writers are paid and that they are expected to spend some their own money for expenses. A long treatise on a good friend’s battle with cancer, while touching, seemed out of place for the focus of the book. Overall, it was an interesting read.
June 9, 2025
If you were hoping to find the best food, wine and restaurant recommendations for fine dining, this is not the book for you.
Rodell was gifted at an early age with a desire to enjoy delicious food in lovely surroundings, and a drive to express this bliss. Putting it into words, however, would take a few years. Her inauspicious beginnings were as a waitress/server and hostess in small town Australia. There she meets the man she would eventually marry. As she describes it, Rodell’s life has not been an easy, steady climb to the success she has come to know. Earning recognition and respect of the food and wine industry meant inter-hemispheric moves, homesickness, disorientation, and heartache. I grew to greatly admire her integrity as a critic, and her steadfast adherence to a critic’s code of conduct. She takes nothing for granted. To farmers, to restaurant staff, employers, and competitors, she shows nothing but humility, respect and gratitude. In fact, had she not included several of her essays and columns, I would not have had an appreciation for her wit and bawdiness. In her memoir, she describes dealing with poverty, sexism, food snobs, old-guard, and her exposure to blogging, all in a self-deprecating fashion. By reviewing food that appeals to the masses vs. high-brow dining, she provides a unique perspective – one that shines a light on culture and history and how they have come to influence what we eat and drink. Her take on cocktails of the 80s and 90s is hilarious!
The writing is impeccable, the book outline clever, and I’ll never look at food criticism in the same way again. Definitely a 5-star read.
Thank you to @Celadon books and Besha Rodell for the opportunity to enjoy this book!
Rodell was gifted at an early age with a desire to enjoy delicious food in lovely surroundings, and a drive to express this bliss. Putting it into words, however, would take a few years. Her inauspicious beginnings were as a waitress/server and hostess in small town Australia. There she meets the man she would eventually marry. As she describes it, Rodell’s life has not been an easy, steady climb to the success she has come to know. Earning recognition and respect of the food and wine industry meant inter-hemispheric moves, homesickness, disorientation, and heartache. I grew to greatly admire her integrity as a critic, and her steadfast adherence to a critic’s code of conduct. She takes nothing for granted. To farmers, to restaurant staff, employers, and competitors, she shows nothing but humility, respect and gratitude. In fact, had she not included several of her essays and columns, I would not have had an appreciation for her wit and bawdiness. In her memoir, she describes dealing with poverty, sexism, food snobs, old-guard, and her exposure to blogging, all in a self-deprecating fashion. By reviewing food that appeals to the masses vs. high-brow dining, she provides a unique perspective – one that shines a light on culture and history and how they have come to influence what we eat and drink. Her take on cocktails of the 80s and 90s is hilarious!
The writing is impeccable, the book outline clever, and I’ll never look at food criticism in the same way again. Definitely a 5-star read.
Thank you to @Celadon books and Besha Rodell for the opportunity to enjoy this book!
June 25, 2025
In "Hunger Like a Thirst", Besha Rodell tells the story of her life from her childhood in Australia to her career as one of the last anonymous food critics. Rodell is a gifted writer and storyteller- as one would imagine, given the nature of her work- and her story is remarkable in that she spent so much time in poverty and yet still found her way into the world of luxurious cuisine and food writing. We see that the restaurant industry is brutal, elitist, and often sexist, and Rodell's journey has been interesting to say the least.
This book is a really interesting blend of anecdotes from the author's life, insights into the restaurant industry and restaurant reviewing, and one-off stories about particularly influential reviews in her career. For me, the most fascinating part was the author lifting the curtain on the seemingly small world of professional restaurant critiquing, which is an area that seems to interest a lot of people. There is obviously very little known about it because critics' anonymity is so important and therefore, the process is very guarded and mysterious. She also calls out some of the less glamorous portions- the expense, the travel, the stress of repeating visits without getting recognized, and the toll it takes on her family.
The cover of the book really does it a disservice, as it looks more like a romance novel cover than a serious memoir.
Readers who are interested in the restaurant industry and foodies at heart will surely find Rodell's memoir fascinating, though she never goes too in-depth on the details of the food. The book did inspire me to look up some of the author's reviews and work, and that was a fun rabbit hole in itself.
Thanks to Celadon Books and NetGalley for the advanced read.
This book is a really interesting blend of anecdotes from the author's life, insights into the restaurant industry and restaurant reviewing, and one-off stories about particularly influential reviews in her career. For me, the most fascinating part was the author lifting the curtain on the seemingly small world of professional restaurant critiquing, which is an area that seems to interest a lot of people. There is obviously very little known about it because critics' anonymity is so important and therefore, the process is very guarded and mysterious. She also calls out some of the less glamorous portions- the expense, the travel, the stress of repeating visits without getting recognized, and the toll it takes on her family.
The cover of the book really does it a disservice, as it looks more like a romance novel cover than a serious memoir.
Readers who are interested in the restaurant industry and foodies at heart will surely find Rodell's memoir fascinating, though she never goes too in-depth on the details of the food. The book did inspire me to look up some of the author's reviews and work, and that was a fun rabbit hole in itself.
Thanks to Celadon Books and NetGalley for the advanced read.
April 5, 2025
I received an eARC of this book from NetGalley and the publisher, for which I thank them.
“Hunger Like a Thirst” is a memoir by Besha Rodell. If, like me, you’ve never heard of Ms. Rodell (or read her work), this book is an interesting look at the food and newspaper industry. Ms Rodell started writing at the time that newspapers delivered to your door or being hawked on corners was being replaced by people getting their news via the internet. In some ways, her story is rather refreshing - she spent a number of years living in Australia then moved to the US. One of her essays is about Outback Steakhouse which I found rather delightful. I found her writing to be a bit angrier than I expected - something that she admits (she drops cuss words into her writing, along with politics, and her frustrations with many things). Ms. Rodell is passionate - and her writing shows that. I did like some of the food history she peppered into her essays and this book - information about the cocktail I thought was fascinating. While this book is about being a restaurant critic (there’s being a daughter, a mother, a wife, a friend, struggles regarding money, struggles regarding work, and struggles of finding oneself), there’s a lot more than “just eating at fancy restaurants.” In some ways, Ms. Rodell made me want to think of a younger, angrier Ruth Reichl - but that’s not a fair comparison for either woman. I’d recommend picking up this book to read - it’s not a fast read (which is fine) but it’s an interesting read.
“Hunger Like a Thirst” is a memoir by Besha Rodell. If, like me, you’ve never heard of Ms. Rodell (or read her work), this book is an interesting look at the food and newspaper industry. Ms Rodell started writing at the time that newspapers delivered to your door or being hawked on corners was being replaced by people getting their news via the internet. In some ways, her story is rather refreshing - she spent a number of years living in Australia then moved to the US. One of her essays is about Outback Steakhouse which I found rather delightful. I found her writing to be a bit angrier than I expected - something that she admits (she drops cuss words into her writing, along with politics, and her frustrations with many things). Ms. Rodell is passionate - and her writing shows that. I did like some of the food history she peppered into her essays and this book - information about the cocktail I thought was fascinating. While this book is about being a restaurant critic (there’s being a daughter, a mother, a wife, a friend, struggles regarding money, struggles regarding work, and struggles of finding oneself), there’s a lot more than “just eating at fancy restaurants.” In some ways, Ms. Rodell made me want to think of a younger, angrier Ruth Reichl - but that’s not a fair comparison for either woman. I’d recommend picking up this book to read - it’s not a fast read (which is fine) but it’s an interesting read.
May 29, 2025
Besha’s parents were part professors and hippies. Coming from Australia, they settled in North Carolina. (I’m betting this was Asheville, known for its hippies and people that were part of the organic food movement.) Her parents didn’t stay together and her father returned to Australia while her mother moved to New York leaving her behind to care for a younger sister. Money was difficult to come by so Besha started off as a hostess in a restaurant and then moved to New York for a time along with her husband, Ryan, a chef. There she worked as a waitress and also worked on getting her degree. She then moved to Atlanta where she got her first job as a food critic. She loved her job and she loved the city. But the job folded along with the newspaper and she and her family ended up in Los Angeles with another job as a food critic. Along the way, she learned a lot about the business and she also tried very hard to be fair and stay incognito.
It’s at this point in the book that the author really grabbed my attention as she gave a terrific history of early cafeterias, and fast food restaurant. (I’m a bit of a history buff.) One restaurant in particular had me really laughing at her snarky comments. It shall go unnamed. Read the book to find out. She went on to give us a history of bars that led to co-ed cocktail bars with sugary drinks destined to turn one into a diabetic.
This book is quite interesting for me in that I have always been a Foodie and enjoy just perusing menus of restaurants to see what’s new and exciting. I certainly enjoyed reading this book and cannot imagine how Besha managed to keep up with the demanding travel like she did. She created some lovely memories for herself and I’m glad she shared them with us.
Copy provided by NetGalley in exchange for a fair and honest review.
It’s at this point in the book that the author really grabbed my attention as she gave a terrific history of early cafeterias, and fast food restaurant. (I’m a bit of a history buff.) One restaurant in particular had me really laughing at her snarky comments. It shall go unnamed. Read the book to find out. She went on to give us a history of bars that led to co-ed cocktail bars with sugary drinks destined to turn one into a diabetic.
This book is quite interesting for me in that I have always been a Foodie and enjoy just perusing menus of restaurants to see what’s new and exciting. I certainly enjoyed reading this book and cannot imagine how Besha managed to keep up with the demanding travel like she did. She created some lovely memories for herself and I’m glad she shared them with us.
Copy provided by NetGalley in exchange for a fair and honest review.
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