Burn the Ice: The American Culinary Revolution and Its End

by Kevin Alexander

James Beard Award-winning food journalist Kevin Alexander traces an exhilarating golden age in American dining

Over the past decade, Kevin Alexander saw American dining turned on its head. Starting in 2006, the food world underwent a transformation as the established gatekeepers of American culinary creativity in New York City and the Bay Area were forced to contend with Portland, Oregon. Its new, no-holds-barred, casual fine-dining style became a template for other cities, and a culinary revolution swept across America. Traditional ramen shops opened in Oklahoma City. Craft cocktail speakeasies appeared in Boise. Poke bowls sprung up in Omaha. Entire neighborhoods, like Williamsburg in Brooklyn, and cities like Austin, were suddenly unrecognizable to long-term residents, their names becoming shorthand for the so-called hipster movement. At the same time, new media companies such as Eater and Serious Eats launched to chronicle and cater to this developing scene, transforming nascent star chefs into proper celebrities. Emerging culinary television hosts like Anthony Bourdain inspired a generation to use food as the lens for different cultures. It seemed, for a moment, like a glorious belle epoque of eating and drinking in America. And then it was over.

To tell this story, Alexander journeys through the travails and triumphs of a number of key chefs, bartenders, and activists, as well as restaurants and neighborhoods whose fortunes were made during this veritable gold rush--including Gabriel Rucker, an originator of the 2006 Portland restaurant scene; Tom Colicchio of Gramercy Tavern and Top Chef fame; as well as hugely influential figures, such as André Prince Jeffries of Prince's Hot Chicken Shack in Nashville; and Carolina barbecue pitmaster Rodney Scott.

He writes with rare energy, telling a distinctly American story, at once timeless and cutting-edge, about unbridled creativity and ravenous ambition. To "burn the ice" means to melt down whatever remains in a kitchen's ice machine at the end of the night. Or, at the bar, to melt the ice if someone has broken a glass in the well. It is both an end and a beginning. It is the firsthand story of a revolution in how Americans eat and drink.

Genres: Food, Nonfiction, Audiobook, Cookbooks, Foodie, Culinary, Food Writing

384 pages, Hardcover

First published July 9, 2019

Reviews

[Mary · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book is a series of "how-I-got-there" stories from about two dozen chefs between 2006-2017 detailing the rise and fall of various restaurant trends (e.g., farm to table, organic, etc.) with 1-2 updates for some chefs after their debut in the book. Hard-core foodies will probably enjoy reading about their favorite chefs. Unfortunately, I found most of the profiles tedious, and the writing style profanity-laden. I was hoping for a more holistic view, tying several food trends together into over-arching themes or evolution of different styles, rather than profiles of all these chefs. Not nearly as entertaining as Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential.

[Restaurant Junkie · Rating 5 out of 5]

For better or worse Burn the Ice: The American Culinary Revolution and Its End is an accurate reflection of the American restaurant industry and a view not usually covered in mainstream food ("foodie") media. This book is not foodporn, and it's not celebrity fueled, even though it addresses both. I wish there were more books like this. It highlights the things that people obsessed with "food" often overlook - how the institutions that put that food on the plate function and grow.

Confession: I've worked in restaurants for most of the last 20 years. This book talks about a lot of things/people I know, and yet it also talks about a lot of things/people I don't. This book is full of deep cuts. It's a record chock-a-block with B sides, and I love it. It also has the voice of a restaurant worker; it speaks like a colleague, not a preacher.

If the book is missing anything, it might benefit from the addition of author Kevin Alexander's 2016 Thrillest series on modern restaurant culture. It started with the piece, "Why the 'Hot New Food Town' Must Die." I loved that three-part series and shared it with everyone. If you read the book, you should read that series too. It's a lens that allows you to read the book with a more focused mindset.

All told, this is a must-read for anyone who works in the restaurant industry because it shows a.) how we got here and b.) the mistakes we made along the way. It doesn't lay out a strict path for recovery, but if you give it a close read it outlines what the industry needs to consider if it's going to move forward.

In short, this book is medicine, but it's sweet enough to swallow. Take the medicine. Read the book.

[Ben · Rating 3 out of 5]

If, somehow, you've managed to tackle this book without reading the introduction, back cover summary or consulting the subtitle, you're in luck. Author Kevin Alexander has put together a wonderful summary of the culinary revolution. But in the more likely scenario that you're here for an explanation of the looming "end" of said revolution, the experience will be rougher.

For all their charms, the book's primary chapters rarely do much and sometimes do nothing at all to advance the notion that the culinary tide has shifted. A chapter profiling a restauranteur-turned-local politician is interesting but seems weakly linked to the rest of the book. At one point, Alexander mounts a fun, vociferous and totally irrelevant defense of Guy Fieri.

Burn the Ice is very good at generating a sense of foreboding and very poor at just saying what it means. Maddeningly, the book never gets around to actually stating its thesis outright until well into the epilogue. (In case it needs to be said, do not wait until the epilogue to introduce your thesis.) Alexander's position is that the period of growth and innovation that characterized the culinary revolution has given way to the "era of the operator." This means a greater emphasis on business acumen, professionalization of the workplace and less interest in creativity. I think this is actually a plausible take, which makes it all the more frustrating that the book is so disconnected from it.

[Bookworm · Rating 2 out of 5]

Forgot where I saw the book but it sounded like a very interesting read. Food, food history, reading up on food/foodie culture is a field I like reading about, even if I'm not really one myself. So I was curious to see what the author had to say.

Alexander takes us through a series of profiles of various food people, some of whom you may have heard of, many you haven't (I think I really only knew of one person). The rise, how they got to where they are or their heights, their struggles, sometimes multi-parts if their story called for it, etc.

That's it. I'll admit, I was very disappointed. I thought it would be a more comprehensive historical look vs. a bunch of profiles that were perhaps modified from a food section in a newspaper. I wasn't surprised to find Alexander is a journalist--writing styles from a periodical to a longform book often never translates well and that's the case here.

If you know of these chefs or followed the "culinary revolution" you might like it but as someone who is way more of a casual audience/reader then I can't say I would recommend it. Library borrow was best for me.

[Natalee Jobert · Rating 3 out of 5]

Burn the Ice fails to deliver the history of the American culinary revolution Kevin Alexander set out to write. I have two major critiques: Alexander jumps between chefs and cities and years abruptly and then the epilogue comes just as abruptly, with only the briefest explanation for why Alexander believes the culinary revolution to be ending.

I would still recommend, however, because Burn the Ice is successful as a collection of short stories centered around chefs and entrepreneurs you cannot help but to root for.

[J.S. Nelson]

DNF

[Jeremy Schneider · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very interesting look at the chefs and minds behind some of the most significant restaurants of the last 20 years in the United States, capturing the ephemeral and fleeting beauty of the country's restaurant revolution. Kevin Alexander did excellent research for the book, which provides excellent background and perspective on American food history.

[Amanda · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting but a little disjointed - it's a lot of snapshots of restaurants/chefs at various points in the last 15-20 years of the American food scene, some of which get more than one chapter and some of which we never return to. The short chapters on Tom Colicchio, Ree Drummond, and Guy Fieri are more like essays and were some of the standouts to me, especially the Guy Fieri one. The rest was interesting, but seemed to lack additional context to bring it all together - what changed in American culture, and how did the food and restaurants highlighted here reflect that? Was a switch flipped in 2004 and all of a sudden everyone wanted artisanal chicken nuggets? There's not much of that macro analysis here, but the micro deep dives into the stories of these chefs over time are interesting, especially the ones like Andre Prince Jeffries. The writing is fun and engaging but I wanted more from the book than it ended up being.

[Emily · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reading this book feels like being at a big ol' potluck party, and you're in the corner of the basement with Kevin Alexander, passing a joint back and forth (this was published in 2019, so let's imagine there's no deadly virus going around), watching the other guests come and go. They're all chefs of varying degrees of fame, and Alexander is quick to wave over the most interesting ones and introduce them to you. He says he's got a great story for you about the rise and fall of the American culinary scene, and you're excited to hear it, you love hearing about food and cooking and bartending and restaurants, but when it comes to the scene you're barely a spectator. So you're interested to hear his take on the big trends and breakthroughs of the last 20 years, most of which were happening when you were too young and broke to observe them firsthand.

As the night goes on more and more chefs wander over, and other people in the industry too, and they're all so fascinating! And Alexander has a nice way of pulling you into the stories, giving you a quick who's-who as he goes, he's being very name-droppy but in a way that makes you feel included, not ignorant. It's a lot of fun, you can feel the creative energy in the place buzzing around you. Sometimes someone will mention a big name like Ree Drummond or Guy Fieri and he'll go off on a random but amazing tangent about them.

And then you realize it's late and people are falling asleep or going home and you're gathering up the beer cans to recycle and you suddenly remember, hey, wasn't this guy going to tell me about the "end" of this revolution? We just got to the beginning and middle! And did he even give you enough context about the beginning, or did he get distracted when he saw someone he knew? Now your ride is here and Alexander kinda yells his thoughts on the "end" part out the window as you're getting in the car. You're a smart person, you can see how the real estate market and VC-funded delivery apps are hitting restaurants hard, but you really wanted to hear this guy's insight...

Was it a bit disappointing, that the big narrative he set you up for didn't quiiiite materialize? Yeah. Does that really matter, when you had such a good time meeting everyone and hearing their story? ...Maybe! I'm erring on the side of rounding up, since I was disappointed but at the same time pleasantly surprised by how unique and enjoyable all the chef profiles were. I think whether I would recommend the book comes down to whether you want to hear from Alexander the industry researcher or Alexander the personal interviewer.

And now after reading three books in a row about food and restaurants I really, really need to find a new topic...

[Hari Kumar · Rating 3 out of 5]

I often find it interesting to read the stories of restaurants, as we often just think of their final product without visualizing how much behind-the-scenes work & struggles went into that output. Kitchen Confidential was my first primer into this, and I like the fast-paced style of that; I expected something similar here.

In large part, you get that! We go from restaurant to restaurant, story to story quite quickly, with each chapter averaging ~10 pages. I found it engaging to consistently hear the inspirations that led people to make a certain cuisine & location choice. It's especially refreshing to hear about so many restaurant successes from people who were down-and-out-of-luck early on in life. Kevin Alexander also weaves through a variety of cuisines of American restaurants, from Indian, Southern, French, Cocktail Bar, etc., so it always feels like something new is happening.

I think this book lacks in a few elements though. He brings up his main point only in the epilogue: we went from culinary innovation to the era of the "Operator", where high-performance, regimentation, and death of creativity looms. I think the book is sporadic in telling stories that do not emphasize this main thesis, that should be fed to us in the beginning & weaved throughout the book! In a similar manner, the stories are kind of all over the place, which makes the reader lose sense of what the narrative is supposed to be. Right after detailing the struggles of a South Indian restaurant in SF, we are in for a 3 page chapter about the construction of Westlight. It makes the story not cohesive, and easy to forget stories that happened earlier in the book that are being referenced again without any continuity. So I have gripes with the writing style, especially given that the subject matter could have been made a lot more interesting.

Lastly, I am left thinking what I like and dislike about "memoir-esque" books, that pepper in details that feel entirely irrelevant to that person's final character. On one hand, you want to give enough context for who that restauranteur is based on their upbringing & motivations; on the other hand, do I really need to know about their first Christmas gift of a EZ-Bake oven that motivated their love of the kitchen. That feels far-fetched, and happens in this book a lot. So I think Kevin Alexander goes overboard in random, unimportant details, but I am starting to recognize that they are important to some degree.

Fine book, but I'm sure there are other culinary history books that serve this purpose as well!

[Vince · Rating 3 out of 5]

I love this genre and what this book is trying to do, but this version of it is pretty mediocre. The writing is good, and it’s clear that Alexander did his research and interviewed a ton of people. While he starts by focusing on the most annoying of culinary traditions, the rest is pretty well rounded and he does go on to talk about a lot of different cuisines, people, and places.

Hard to tell who this is this written for. It’s a who’s who of influential chefs over the last couple decades, but too many for any real depth about a specific restaurant or chef or even city. Also relatively little about the actual food. There’s almost more attention given to NYC cocktail bros. It is clear that the author believes themselves to be an ethnographer of the culinary world, but as a critic they can really only exist on the periphery.

There is an extremely lenient discussion of Whole Foods and Kroger at the end, and zero critique of restauranteurs that get involved with companies like this. It couldn’t be more clear that the author does not want to alienate himself from any particular food reporting outlet or major restaurant ownership group. Other than briefly scoffing at Yelp reviewers, there is also a lack of food critic self-reflection. Author brings up some serious issues that are deeply embedded in restaurant culture, and then spends hardly any time discussing them at all.

Alexander never actually gets to the subtitle of this book—there is nothing significant presented here about the “fall of the American culinary scene.” The only really interesting commentary on this comes from a single David Chang quote (who was not interviewed for this book) randomly in the middle: “I will call bullshit on [American city]. There’s only a handful of restaurants that are manipulating food. Fucking every restaurant in [American city] is serving figs on a plate with nothing on it.”

[Faith Bishop · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of my favorite books that I've ever read. As previously worked in the industry, with many friends still there, and a food enthusiast, I connect with these stories. I read it shortly after it was published and continue to read it every other year or so.

It makes me yearn to live in Portland during the mid-aughts to be able to eat the pop ups and crazy, unsanctioned food places mentioned. I want to shake cocktails in New York at the same time - crafting mezcal drinks with flavors no one has ever tasted. I want to taste the dosas made in the Mission.

The stories of each person highlighted are so personal. I love how Alexander doesn't shy away from the real life struggles that have been so prevalent in service industry - addiction, mental health, etc etc. In the last several years because of stories like these, more chefs, servers, managers are being more open about their sobriety and therapy so they can continue to perfect their craft while staying healthy.

I'm lucky to have eaten and drank at many of these places both before and after reading this book. Reading the book just makes these moments more special because you never know, with the ebb and flow of food culture, if you will be able to return.

Rereading now, seven years following the publish date, with COVID only exaggerating the downfall of the culinary revolution, some mentioned are no longer with us (RIP Naomi Pomeroy), others have continued to grow their brand (André Prince Jeffries), and some continue to be at the height of their game (Le Pigeon was just nominated for another Beard). Some stories are more pertinent now than ever (Tunde Wey). I love looking at each person as I read about them to see where they are now.

The segmented narrative adds to the time and place of each person highlighted. Don't let it be a distraction, but let it add to the storytelling.

[Joe · Rating 5 out of 5]

Pour one out for Kevin Alexander's delicate, subtle thesis in this book. He took such pains to research dozens of stories and weave them into a single narrative tide, rising to inundate the cities of America with craft food and hipster burgers. How was he to know that mere months after the book went live, a tidal wave would crash against it in the form of the Coronavirus, destroying countless restaurants and no doubt completely upending the industry. Alexander's thesis, that a delicate balance of affordable labor and desire for authenticity were slowly crumbling under cultural and economic pressures, didn't stand a chance.

But don't pity Alexander the author quite yet. His book comes out better without needing to prove some overall goal. He tries a little too hard to make the success stories of various culinary masters seem like more than the sum of their menus and tattoos. Instead, his book now serves as a fine chronicle of the genesis of your local neighborhood industrial tapas brewery (RIP, hope they're doing takeout), starting with a very weird restaurant in Portland and amplified by immigrants, burnt-out tech workers, and straight up cultural thieves who saw in a food-saturated internet and a newly mobile millennial workforce opportunities to make good food in a lot more places than people were.

If you've eaten a lot of food in the 2010's at a lot of good (and expensive) trendy places, you'll enjoy this. I hope it's not too much a relic of the past, and that Alexander did not end up telling a bunch of stories about to have tragic endings.

[Commodore · Rating 3 out of 5]

Judging by the reactions of non-industry people, this book might be too “insider-y” for mass appeal, but I found it interesting. It was easier for me to read in smaller pieces; if I tried to read large portions of it I got lost and forgot the context of a section that was now being revisited. If I do a retread I might try to read it person-by-person rather than linear. It goes over (and traces the roots of) a lot of long time problems F&B has, like who “owns” a particular food trend (who gets to profit off of it, who gets credit, and why), and how the free-wheeling anything goes let’s drink on the line attitude is marginalizing at best and often actively harmful. Loved the parts featuring Charleston of course, it’s very interesting to contextualize how and why it’s suddenly become a “foodie city”. I’ll freely admit I also liked it because this is one of the rare food books that doesn’t tie itself in knots trying to come up with overblown descriptions of the food it’s discussing.

Mainly though I feel slightly bad for anyone who wrote a book summarizing any sort of “movement” from 2000-2019 with attempts to look towards the future. The pandemic has already changed the restaurant industry drastically, and it’s not done yet. This book isn’t a year old and it unfortunately is already out of date.

[JR Smith · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wanted to like this more than I did. There are engrossing stories in here, especially Dosa in SF and Prince's Hot Chicken in Nashville. However, splitting up each story among the sections only served to make me kind of remember who we were talking about by the time we revisited their tale. And some of the smaller stories deserved to either be expanded or cut.

I was going to give this three stars, but I kept coming back to "did the book prove out it's thesis" and the best I could muster was "kinda". It was very clear that South Indian cuisine was new, but that was the strongest point. Moreover, the opening suggests that the US has had a culinary moment and that moment has passed. The passing feels largely unexamined. I think Alexander was suggesting that the rise of what he calls the Operator (industry types not starting a trend, but spotting a new one, refining it, and then making it their own) marks the end. But rich people claiming things as their own is not unique in the least bit. It's even called out in the hot chicken chapters. And if that's the best argument for the moment having passed, then I don't think the book stuck the landing.

tl;dr; Good ideas, some good stories deserving more attention, misfired execution overall

[Chris · Rating 3 out of 5]

Through somewhat disconnected vignettes, this book explores how cooks, bartenders, and restaurateurs became mainstream celebrities. The book covers everything from hot chicken and dosas to craft cocktails and French fusion. Many of the narratives were interesting, but the author assumed quite a bit of prior knowledge of celebrity (I think) chefs and bartenders; at some points it felt like a friend who was annoyingly name dropping (although ineffectively, as I recognized very few of the names). Learning about each chef's deep connection to the food and how success (and the accompanying stress) operated differently (but with some similarities) in each situation kept me engaged. A three-page (on my Kindle) list of cocktails made me wonder what I was reading demonstrated that what the author thought was important and what I thought was important were two different things. If you're deep into the U.S. food scene, this is probably a good book for you. If not, I'd recommend a skim more than a read.

[Frannie California DiBona · Rating 1 out of 5]

I thought this author had a horrible editor. Turns out the editor was very good when you read other works from
this author. I am not a quitter, but I closed this for good after four chapters. The writing is bad, not just sloppy but obviously everyone looking at this had too much respect for the first draft that it appears they never mustered the courage to tell the author to stop. This is said without consideration of the complete unreliability and one sided narrative the stories take, making them no better than fiction. Seriously, if you’re going to remove half the side of the story, and do it in a disrespectful way, there’s no point in calling it truth.

The only thing this book has made me want to do or think about is getting to a point in life where I can rewrite it in an accurate, well written manner purely out of spite. Don’t waste your money, just come up with a story about a restaurant in your head, at least you’ll be able to keep track of it.

[Ellen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting premise. The narrative mirrors the years of my adulthood this far, which has been shaped in part by the revolution the author mentions. Notably missing from the book are In depth discussions about Los Angeles and Chicago as major food cities in the US. The author showcases some amazing stories, but it feels a little rushed. I wish he had gone into greater depth. If you are familiar with the hospitality industry, it’s an engaging read; if you are not familiar with the hospitality industry, it lacks depth. It was fun to see some familiar names mentioned. I’ll also state that sometimes I get frustrated when people from large cities make a big deal about small cities having cool/interesting cultural attractions. Compelling stuff is everywhere, you just have to look for it. Living in a big city doesn’t make you more interesting or worthy than someone who lives in a small town.

[John Spiller · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Burn the Ice" was hit or miss for me. Kevin Alexander has a keen understanding of culinary and cocktail trends and the media hype machine behind it. The problem, at least for me, is that he assumes that you are au courant with the foodie scene such that 90% of the hundreds of names with which he saturates his stories will have some meaning or significance to you. I recognized about five names, one of them being Anthony Bourdain. (If you haven't guessed, I am a rube when it comes to the food scene.) So when Alexander waxes rhapsodic about some New York restaurant with some assemblage of young talent, I, uh, wasn't feeling it. Then there's his writing style. When telling the stories of some of these chefs, Alexander tends to incorporate the patois of his subjects, which apparently makes the stories more relatable, irreverent, high energy, or something. It annoyed me.

[Geary · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very entertaining book covering the nationwide trends of U.S. independent bar/restaurant innovation from 2006 through 2018. Told is essay format this covered many areas that non-restaurant people likely knew little about. As far as the time frame of when the so-called 'American Culinary Revolution' either started or ended I would disagree - at least from the viewpoint of an involved participant during the period in LA/OC from the early 70's through currently. Little was covered in either the LA/OC markets or the Greater Southwest areas. Still, I learned quite a bit in other regional areas. And was validated in that 'bar/restaurant people' are, were, and likely will always be very similar throughout America.

[Amanda · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’ve read reviews about wanting this book to tie together the restaurant and food trends more, but I think to do so would shift the narrative away from the people behind the revolution and its end. The chapter on Kroger’s farm to table experiment wasn’t included merely as an FYI, but to represent the loss of romance in the industry in favor of corporate/investor-driven concepts Alexander talks about towards the end. I gave it four stars because there are times when Alexander goes on tangents or name-drops for no obvious pay-off but I loved this book otherwise. The section on Guy Fieri were my favorite 5 pages of the book—they were written with a fierce purpose that made me question the foundations of my food snobbery.

[James · Rating 5 out of 5]

While the introduction to this beautifully written treatise on the importance of food, culture, respect, and creativity felt like it was preparing me for a journey into the cold waiting room of cynicism regarding the approaching collapse of one of the things I treasure most: food, it ended up peeling back the layers of something I wanted to understand more deeply in an accessible and touching way. Now at its end, the veil of pessimism has lifted, and I'm seeing the book for what it really is: a Phoenix like call to action for those willing to carry the light of inspired cooking forward in the years to come.

[Theresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thoroughly entertaining. I was absorbed - a witty and provocative collection of stories. Lots of names in this book - some famous, some not - it could have very easily become pretentious, but the author’s humour and straightforward telling made it a joy to read.

I felt a little short changed on the Epilogue. The wrap up was very quick, and I’m not sure the author effectively concluded his argument that this revolution is over...I felt a little like I missed last call, and was now being escorted out of the bar. But maybe that’s because I really wanted to linger...

[Tejas Sathian · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fun account of the rise of American cuisine in the 2000s, and an interesting window into some major trends in American culture before and after the 2008 financial crisis: shifting tastes in light of economic realities; migration into and revitalization of second tier cities, often after crises (Katrina, housing crisis in Detroit), with Portland as a blueprint; intersection of food culture with larger issues in American society (#MeToo, addiction in the industry, immigrant experiences, race relations, debates about authenticity, gentrification and local politics). The portrayals of individual restaurateurs were enjoyable - I especially enjoyed the story of Anjan & Emily Mitra, their popularization of South Indian food at Dosa, and their growing pains as entrepreneurs scaling a business. The book covers lots of cuisines and cultures and aspects of food/drink - I would have enjoyed bits on the rise of sommelier driven wine culture, and coffee culture.

The book's central thesis is that the success of new food trends and restaurant models, combined with the rapid spread of information on the Internet and influx of new people once places/trends are discovered, means that the culinary revolution has reached an endpoint - as a trend/restaurant can go from boom to bust in a very short time, with the true creators not often the ones benefiting fully. But it ends with a note of optimism that ingenuity will lead to more culinary innovation - and the next recession may be needed to help clear space for the next wave of the movement.

Portland: first city to break the monopoly of NY/Bay Area restaurants in defining national trends (previously some regional dishes had gone mainstream but turned into fads). Eric Asimov put Portland onto the national map in 2007; a 'Sideways theory' suggests the growth in popularity of Pinot Noir led to increased attention on Portland; Portland then served as a blueprint for 2nd/3rd tier cities seeking to attract young college grads who were moving to cities, staying longer and starting families later. Gabriel Rucker and Pigeon (upscale bar food) at the center of this movement.

Colicchio and the rise of celebrity chefs on TV: bigger than Bobby Flay and Emeril, in becoming a general purpose celebrity.

Anjan Mitra: roots in cosmopolitan Juhu Beach Bombay, shaped by travels over SE Asia thanks to dad’s job as a pilot; college in US and disappointment with American foods. History of first Indian immigrants sailors and textile merchants arriving in the US in the 1880s, often assimilating into other minority communities. Jay Ranji Smile was brought to NYC in 1890s - and became a legitimate celebrity chef, traveling the country and having affairs along the way. Ceylon India Inn: first Indian restaurant opened in the US in 1913. Bengali immigrants in 60s/70s coinciding with hippies looking for new things - led to the formation of enclaves such as Curry Row on E 6th St (the best known Little India in USA in 70s). Floyd Cardoz - first major Indian celeb chef; Tamarind; Amma and Devi. Indian restaurants trying to be current resorted to fusion w/ French or pan Asian. Unwritten recipe culture in India, chefs trained to please foreign tourists, most immigrants on H1B visas - all made it hard to find Indian chefs in 2005. Authenticity argument from South Asian Americans that angered Anjan - protests over dosas served by a North Indian, ignoring the major South Indian influences that shaped him in Bombay. Expansion into bigger business - commissary kitchens, dosateria in Silicon Valley cafeterias, leading to new logistical challenges. Focus on Kerala, and growth of regional Indian cuisine (similar to what's happened in Mexican cuisine).

LA: Roy Choi & food trucks - big revelation to put Korean bbq onto tacos led to Kogi, a cultural phenomenon coinciding with Twitter and the financial crisis (making traditional restaurants less economical to start and less accessible to customers).

Nashville: Andre Prince Jefferies; legend of uncle Thornton whose girlfriend tried to get revenge with hot chicken that he then enjoyed; Prince’s and Colombo’s rivalry; Bill Purcell’s devotion to Prince’s. Rising national trend of ‘Nashville’ hot chicken (a surprise to Prince's); Hattie B’s opening in midst of Nashville boom - 3rd iteration of hot chicken (following original and knockoffs by fans - this was first by professionals). Ultimate concerns over authenticity, as Hattie B's scaled their product much more than Prince's could, and attracted unfair credit for giving birth to 'Nashville hot chicken'.

NYC cocktails: backlash against old school cocktails in 60s/70s, fern bars for women; vodka in 80s fitting with cocaine culture. Joe Baum - recreating 1930s spirit in Rainbow Room bar for yuppie generation. Angel’s share (1994), inspired Milk and Honey. Flatiron, Pegu - growth of Phil Ward as a bartender. Ravi de Rossi and David Kaplan - Death & Co, found Phil Ward on Craigslist. Ward and growth of Mezcal culture. Expansion of Death & Co into new cities, and model for trendy boutique hotels and neighborhood restaurants to start serious bar programs.

Other interesting anecdotes: Cura (NOLA) and rebirth of city post Katrina; Holeman & Finch (ATL) as a poster child for the culinary revolution (linking high quality ingredients with comfort food); growth of trendy BBQ culture in Austin, Carolinas (Rodney Scott); Tunde Wey and rise to activism while growing in Detroit's post-crisis creative entrepreneurial spirit; Ree Drummond's Pioneer Woman blog.

[Jim · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm not really a foodie but am interested in restaurants and have been a "Top Chef" fan and tried a few recipes myself. Also, I live in a town known for culinary experiments (L.A.) and celebrity chefs, so somewhat keep abreast of what's hot and what's not anymore. "Burn the Ice" gives a great perspective on this movement nationally, some of the key players and the reasons for their rise and sometimes fall. When I was a kid growing up, most restaurants had a choice of beef, chicken or fish, a baked potato, and some iceberg lettuce with pink dressing. My, how that's changed!

[Joanna · Rating 4 out of 5]

I remember those things called restaurants...
First thought, I guess the writing must be pretty good if it got me to read 300 pages about a bunch of guys from Portland.
Style is a spruced up version of online gonzo food writing (Think Lucky Peach)— well somewhat spruced up: there were some sloppy errors and instances of thesaurus abuse. To convert that into a full length book, though, takes more than that. For one thing, the book is exhaustively researched . Also, Alexander is a surprisingly versatile writer. There is true insight here, and undeniable passion for his subject.

[Micah · Rating 4 out of 5]

Like all popular nonfiction books this is a series of anecdotes designed to tell a whole story. The story this one tells is about high end restaurants from the mid 2000s to the late 2010s (with the exception of prince's hot chicken). If there's a flaw at all it's that it focuses so much on upper class kinds of restaurants. The stories are told well. There's a good spread of people. It has the drag in the middle problem a lot of these books have, but it's still a really good look at the broader American restaurant scene over that time period. If anything, it could've been a little pithier.

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a thorough,well-researched book and I learned a lot about the restaurant industry. The profile format frustrated me, though. While I appreciated the focus on a single chef, city, or restaurateur in each chapter, I kept hoping for more to tie everything together. A short epilogue serves as a bit of a wrap-up but otherwise it is truly a book of vignettes and the reader is left alone to uncover themes and trends.

[Matthew Strenger · Rating 4 out of 5]

While definitely a book aimed at foodies and industry insiders, Burn The Ice’s weaving, somewhat staccato narratives of how America’s current culinary landscape came to be was intriguing and enlightening- particular the interplay of politics, the financial landscape, and social pressures change the professional food scene.
People who insist that outspoken chefs should “shut up and cook” need to read this book and make a conscious effort never to say that again.

[Duessa Holscher · Rating 3 out of 5]

Intrigued by this book because I really wanted to hear more about Gabriel Rucker's story, having lived through the rise of Portland foodie's culture through the time period and followed many of the trends he covers in the book. Skimmed through some of the other chapters as they tended to get a bit boring, I'm not sure the format quite worked going back and forth among stories as it was a bit hard to keep track of who was who. And of course a sad ending for everyone in 2020.