A SINGULAR, POWERFULLY EXPRESSIVE DEBUT MEMOIR THAT TRACES ONE CHEF'S STRUGGLES TO FIND HER PLACE AND WHAT HAPPENS ONCE SHE DOES.
'BURN THE PLACE' is a galvanizing culinary memoir that chronicles Iliana Regan’s journey from foraging on the family farm to opening her nationally acclaimed restaurant Elizabeth. Her story is alive with startling imagery, raw like that first bite of wild onion, and told with uncommon emotional power. It’s a sure bet to be one of the most important new memoirs of 2019.
Regan grew up the youngest of four headstrong girls on a small farm in Northwest Indiana. When picking raspberries as a toddler still in diapers, Regan understood to pick only the ripe fruit. In the family’s leaf-strewn fields, the orange flutes of chanterelles seemed to beckon her while they eluded others.
Regan has always had an intense, almost otherworldly connection with food and earth. Connecting with people, however, has always been harder. As she learned to cook in the farmhouse, got her first job in a professional kitchen at age fifteen, taught herself cutting-edge cuisine while running her “new forager” underground supper club, and worked her way from front-of-house staff to running her own kitchen, Regan often felt that she “wasn’t made for this world.” She was a little girl who longed to be a boy, gay in an intolerant community, an alcoholic before she turned twenty, a woman in an industry dominated by men.
'BURN THE PLACE' will introduce listeners to an important new voice from the American culinary scene, an underrepresented perspective from the professional kitchen, and a young star chef whose prose is as memorable and deserving of praise as her food.
*A 'Publishers Weekly' Pick of New Cooking Books of 2019*
Iliana Regan is a self-taught chef. She is the founder and owner of the Michelin-starred “new gatherer” restaurant Elizabeth and the Japanese-inspired pub Kitsune, both located in Chicago. Her cuisine highlights her midwestern roots and the pure flavor of the often foraged ingredients of her upbringing. A James Beard Award and Jean Banchet Award nominee, Regan was named one of Food & Wine’s Best New Chefs 2016.
I chose this because some of my most beloved books, beginning with Kitchen Confidential, have been memoirs by established chefs and Iliana Regan's arc seemed to echo that of Gabrielle Hamilton. Yes there are similarities. Both come from large, unconventional families, with a strong background in earth to table cooking, both have college degrees in writing but not in food services, they share sexual identities and have michelin starred restaurants that thrive thanks to their instinctual style of cookery. Both are artists. Both have had stories to tell.
Forthright and badass, Iliana's personna belies her past. In videos, she comes across very softspoken, which aligns with her self description of introverted shyness. Becoming a boss, owning her own place and establishing control, came with its own set of challenges, as she realized in order to succeed she had to set her own rules in the pressure cooker atmosphere on the cooking line (a culture described by Bourdain as testosterone-fueled). But succeed she has, coming to grips with her "alcohol allergy" and finding happiness in her personal life. And running three establishments with her signature style, all in Chicago. Can't wait to go there so I can visit these places.
I had never heard of this author or her two famous restaurants before reading this book. I just saw it pop up in my library app and thought I would give it a shot. It's a pretty straightforward memoir of this chef's life. She grew up on a farm, struggled with her identity and sexuality, became an alcoholic and drug addict, then realized she was a good cook and tried to turn it into a career.
At one point near the end she talks about other chefs who have written memoirs and how they are very arrogant and brag about themselves. She says she didn't want to do that, but throughout this book I definitely felt like she was super arrogant and bragging about herself. I guess that's just how chefs are.
This was a good read but there are many better memoirs out there written by chefs. It didn't do anything new, but it did give me a few recipe ideas.
I felt very moved by Regan’s honesty and her ability to forge her own path throughout this book, but especially as she speaks about her sexuality and the trials of being gay in rural American. I look around Chicago today and see a flourishing Pride parade, rainbows on every corner, and outspoken acceptance of the queer population. It’s easy to forget that things weren’t always that way and things still aren’t that way in so many places. Reading about Regan’s conflict with her own gender as a very small child and watching how this manifested throughout her life in different ways was really moving to me and, I would imagine, not the easiest thing to share. Burn the Place is a very honest, personal account that can be considered more in the LGBTQ canon than in the food lit collections.
I always read for voice, and Iliana Regan's got voice, and verve, to burn. Reading this puts you at her table, wherever that table is, invites you to feast or to fight, and all the while shares everything she's got. I don't read chef's memoirs and I don't care about fine dining and I loved this.
I live in Chicago. The Michelin-starred restaurant Elizabeth is a local hero; I celebrated an anniversary at Kitsune. Had I read the book reviews before diving in, I would have realized this is not so much a culinary memoir as it is one woman’s struggle with drugs, alcohol, and her sexual and personal identity.
As a lesbian coming-of-age story for folks in and around “The Industry,” it is frank and sincere in capturing a moment in Chicago’s history. I lived, apparently, just down the street from Regan. I ate at the restaurants she worked in (and walked out of) in Andersonville. In summer, my friends and I would grab burgers and cheap liter steins of beer at T’s patio and watch the drunk lesbians fight on sidewalk. So the backstory she provides made perfect sense to me.
As a story of recovery, there’s a vital hopefulness in this book. Regan suggests threads of obsessive compulsive behavior in herself and her family, but she makes good use of it in transforming her questions (how do ice cream stabilizers work?) and interests (wild gathering, fermenting, bread making) into her profession, first through underground dinners, then popups, then her restaurants. Side projects really can save one’s life.
I do wish a stronger editor’s pen had tightened up the often overly conversational, sloppy writing.
Five stars for the first 75 pages. Then it just...
It's all over the place and sometimes that works and sometimes it's like you're eating something rich and wonderful and then they just keep feeding it to you.
This memoir by Ilana Regan shows her life through glimpses, from childhood self proclaimed hillbilly, on to substance abusing young adult, and finally to a successful chef/restaurant owner, with reflection in all three sections on her sexuality. The book was an entertaining read but I would not be a target reader, since I no longer am interested reading about the rock and roll lifestyle of others. For me the charm was in the less dramatic moments where the author began hunting and sautéing chanterelles with her father or learned to mix bread dough with her uncle. The memoir is written in a less formal,episodic style that fits the tone the author suggests, but did not suit me. This book melded well with the rest of the diverse mix of nonfiction on the National Book Award longlist and ought to be an good option for book clubs.
A non chronological memoir. Book just wasn’t at all what I was expecting it to be. Story and characters jumped around A LOT, no real introductions just lots of separate stories on a page. I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised with how the story played out being that lots of chefs are kinda pretentious pricks and she’s a CHEF.
Gave it a second star because the short chapters written about her time in kitchens is very entertaining and I really enjoyed. But that’s a story for another time.
I wasn't particularly interested in this book at first, because I thought it was just a chef's memoir. I sure am glad I got it and read it anyways, because it is so much more than that! This book is Regan's memoir about growing up with gender dysphoria, facing discrimination, homo/transphobia, and general bullying growing up. It then shows Iliana struggle living paycheck to paycheck and struggle with drug addiction in her 20s as she tries to make it as a chef. We then see Iliana start her own restaurant and see it struggle but succeed, and build something Regan can be proud of. It's a powerful and moving tale. Highly recommend!
my god, this was a slog to finish. i'm sorry! i was really looking forward to this! and i feel bad giving it a 2 star, i was debating a 3, but really, no.
as one reviewer, susan, wrote: "The organization was confusing, jumping around the years for no apparent reason. The narrative voice changed throughout; it was sometimes an observer looking in and at other times she was much more in the moment. It wasn't the story I expected- it was more about her coming to terms with being gay and her alcoholism than it was about her career as chef. I realize it's the full picture of her life, but I was mainly curious specifically about her journey as a chef so this wasn't the book I wanted. It wasn't compelling to me, but it was honest and seems like a lot of people enjoyed it"
i agree completely with this ^. i had to put the book down at p.226, and even though i had desperately wanted to finish the book and there were only 30 pages left, i couldnt do it until about 1.5 months later. and even that was a chore.
i was also looking for more on her journey as a chef. though sometimes, i enjoy a memoir when it veers more personal than "career" (i.e., trevor noah) if it's interesting and well written. this was not. i was SO BORED reading about her childhood/growing up, and just kept waiting for it to be over. i felt like my journey reading this book was me waiting for the good part to come, but there was no good part, and near the end it just turned around and went back into things that were already covered that i didn’t like reading about in the first place. there was no narrative here, i had no idea what was happening because each chapter was just us being thrown into some random time period and her musing or describing some scene from her life, with no sense of continuity for what came before or after that segment. oftentimes, the scenes were from parts of her life that were already previously covered.
i get that this was a book about feelings and coming of age and identity, but so many of those themes weren't dug into aside from a retelling of different things that happened in her life. for example, there is so much grief in this book, but the grief is never really explored. it's just described to be there or to be the cause of some decision in her life, but we don't get it. this book was also about alcoholism and recovery, and i like reading about recovery, but even then i didnt enjoy reading the parts about recovery (which probably means something)
the book felt really self indulgent, like it was full of inside jokes that i wasnt in on. or like i was with that intoxicated uncle who keeps telling incoherent stories about their life and you're forced to sit there until it's over while nodding politely.
i admire the honesty, and her struggle, and her achievements, but the more i think about it the more it was a 1/1.5 star read tbh
I love memories and I love food so reading this book was a no-brainer. The author was an Indianan farm girl who was pathologically shy and thought she was a boy. She grew up to be an alcoholic, lesbian, server, cook, chef, and Michelin star restaurant owner. Her story is a bumpy one but worth the read. I particularly liked the beginning of the book. In it, she describes her life on her magical farm and the food it produced. Her description of hunting, finding, picking and cooking Chanterelles will make your mouth water. Her tales of drunkenness, blackouts, fights, & indiscriminate sex are not as appetizing but part of her story. Her rise to fame, creativity, allegiance to her roots, and incredible menus will make you want to travel and go to one of her restaurants.
I listened to this culinary/addiction/growing up gay in Indiana memoir on tape. There were parts that were interesting--the author's childhood, her struggles with her sexual identity, the details about rural Indiana (note frogs legs), but other parts didn't grab me so much. I feel like this could have been a solid article in a magazine. The endless detailed repetition about this time I messed up, and then I vowed not to, but then I did it again, wasn't that compelling or added anything new. Also, the end of the book, about her rise to chef stardom didn't do it for me either. A bit too much humble bragging. Not a bad read, though, to pass the time.
2.5 and I should round up but after finishing I’m so annoyed with the pointlessness and jumping around that I can’t. I’ll probably bump it from 2 to 3 stars after the author event. But man, what a disjointed, wandering piece of work! Where is the thread? The journey from foraging farm kid to chef? This reads like random diary entries that were thrown up in the air and reassembled into a binder at random.
What, now? Who is? Where? Is that Indiana or Illinois? I don’t know. And unfortunately, wasn’t invested enough to care.
ETA: yes, bumped it up to 3 stars, even before the author events. I did really like some of the stories, particularly the ones that focused on foraging, the farm, and family dynamics, despite the random cussing and dropping of F bombs (which was inconsistent and lends credence to my diary entry theory). It’s better to approach this as a collection of short, loosely related stories than an actual book and memoir. Once I looked at it that way, and quit trying to conjure a thread of continuity, I was able to relax into the randomness and appreciate the stories themselves. Also, meeting the author and talking instead of viewing them through the lens of the book was excellent.
Summary: A fascinating memoir, enjoyable both for the author's emotional account of her struggles and for the cool technical details of her career.
Iliana Regan is perhaps best known for her Michelin-starred restaurant, Elizabeth, but I first heard of her as the author of this National Book Award long-listed memoir. The book blurb sells it as searingly honest, which it is. It covers the sort of difficult topics the phrase 'searingly honest' conjures, like Iliana's struggle with alcoholism and her difficulty accepting her sexuality. But her honesty also led to some surprising moments of humor, often through unexpected profanity. Her honesty definitely helped me feel involved in her life, but the primary strength I identified in this book was the author's ability to tell a good story. As a child, she describes escaping into her imagination and now she says uses her menus to tell stories. That ability carries over to her memoir as well.
This is a book with three distinct parts. The first section focuses on her childhood. Every chapter is anchored by a vivid description of preparing and eating food. The second section is about her struggle with alcoholism. The author worked at restaurants, but food is pushed to the margins in these stories. The final section focuses on the founding of her restaurants. I found the first two sections to be the strongest. They have the feel of an origin myth. Although the author shares her age at the beginning of each vignette, their disconnection from one another made them feel timeless. I had to really focus to remember how old the author was in each one. Each chapter felt pivotal to the formation of the author's identity. Her ability to identify these formative moments in her history gave the stories a real sense of purpose.
The last section was also enjoyable, but felt more rushed and less purposeful than the earlier sections. I loved hearing about her scientific approach to cooking. Other fascinating topics in this section included: the creative dishes she makes; her experiences learning how to manage people; and how she dealt with sexism in the kitchen. However, we cover about the same amount of her life in this last third of the book as we did in the first two thirds. Sometimes I wanted a lot more about how she got from one point to another or on a given topic. The founding of her second restaurant and her relationship with her wife got particularly little page space. Other chapters at the end felt like a grab-bag of stories from earlier in her life that she hadn't been able to fit into the (mostly) linear narrative.
While I didn't think the last section was quite as strong as the first two, it was a satisfying conclusion built on a strong foundation. Having heard about the author's struggles in moving detail, getting to hear about her successes was really lovely. Unlike another cooking memoir I read recently (Notes From a Young Black Chef), Iliana has achieved enough and crafted her story carefully enough that her memoir had a satisfying arc to it. I could see the strengths she built on, the challenges she overcame, and how they led to her success. It was well written and her honesty drew me in. This was a very strong memoir and I'd highly recommend it. If you're interested in any of the following topics especially, don't miss this - growing up in the country; struggling with being gay and queer as a child; alcoholism; or working in the restaurant industry.
Last but not least, I've managed to avoid seeing the National Book Award shortlist, so I can still make a prediction about whether this will make it. Although I'm giving this five stars and I think it's a great memoir, I'm going to guess it won't make the shortlist. Compared to last year's shortlist, this deals with a much narrower topic. Although Iliana deals with some challenges in her life, she only addresses them as they relate to her personally. She includes little to no research, just her lived experience. That made this much less information rich than the books on last year's shortlist. It was a great read though, so I wouldn't be too surprised if it proves me wrong :)This review was originally posted on Doing Dewey
Engaging memoir about a very cool chef. It's nothing out of the norm but a cool story. The author grows up on a farm, struggles with her sexuality and a raging addiction to alcohol, and hustles her way into culinary success, ultimately drawing on her earlier experiences with food. It would be a fantastic audiobook to listen to when cooking or out in the garden.
Like Iliana Regan, I was raised a short hop off US 421 in northwest Indiana, in the middle of nowhere, with limited role models for who or what I might eventually become. We were 90 minutes or less from Chicago, where we would both spend much of our adult years, but worlds away.
“Burn the Place” reminds me that so much of our becoming is the struggle of kids in such an environment – to work our way through and out of such landscapes, and for some of us, back home again, to the exact places we were raised, and/or to similar, familiar terrain.
Like Iliana, I found solace and wonder in nature, often in solitude. The landscape of “the Region” is not the most spectacular in the world, by traditional definitions of grandeur, but if you get quiet and look closely, you’ll discover wonders to pack away and comfort you through life. Tadpoles, mushrooms, cattails, sandhill cranes, milkweed. Landscapes of corn fields and pastures and forests and dunes and ponds left behind by glaciers. Changing seasons and light unlike anywhere else. To certain types of kids, all this was ours alone. When we get into the thick of adulthood, the messiness and dark, is it this memory that powers us, carries us along?
Earlier this year I read the powerful memoirs The Chronology of Water by Lidia Yuknavich, and Bettyville by George Hodgman. As with those books, “Burn the Place” will resonate in different ways with many types of readers. Coming out in a small town? Check. Struggling onward through that, as a young adult in the big city? Check. Acknowledging and fumbling through and conquering addiction? Check. Claiming your agency in one professional field or another? Check. Taking chances (running a business, writing a book, committing to life and/or work in a cabin in remote wilderness, finally landing a partner to join you for the journey)? Check.
I’m not a foodie, and the author has said this is not a “foodie” book per se, but if that’s your thing, you’ll find lots to enjoy as well. I admired greatly how she has become a superstar in the food world yet was not trained in traditional culinary institutes, nor did she win a television cooking show (a frequent and sort of tiresome narrative in stories of Chicago superstar chefs). Hurray for Hoosier moxie!
I liked this book a lot, but the book I REALLY want to read is the one Regan writes next, after more years of introspection and reflection. In this book, Regan talks about failures and disappointments, like her short-lived bakery, Bunny, with very little internal reflection, very little self-exploration and introspection, and for me as a reader that material is what makes a memoir truly rich. Come to think of it, it's not just her struggles and failures that she elides emotionally in this way. My biggest impression of her success with Elizabeth is how annoying she finds her staff, and when she gets sober, the impression in the book is that she just does it—and maybe that is true, but surely there was more going on in her internal landscape. Also, some major life moments are skipped all together. I learned by Googling her (to see what she looks like) that she was married once before her current marriage— something she doesn't mention at all in the book, which covers that time span.
But there is a lot to like here, in particular her descriptions of food. They are amazing. She also writes vividly about her struggles with gender identity and sexuality. And, really, my criticism about the dearth of more introspective reflection is all because I liked this book a lot and I liked her story a lot and I want more! So if Regan or anyone who knows her reads this, tell her I'm waiting for book #2 and I hope it has more of her true self in it.
I've read quite a few rock star memoirs, in which talent and genius are complicated by emotional instability, sexual deviancy and substance abuse. Is this one of those? Absolutely. In that way, it's forgettable. I am so sick of alcoholism I could just scream.
Here's one thing about this book. The gay energy was so pure. It brought me back to a younger time in my life and in our culture in which it was truly unthinkable to have a gay girl-crush on a friend or celebrity. The awe the author describes feeling when a girl shows reciprocal interest in her for the first time made my heart skip a beat. And so, so much closetedness, even after the author found success in her career. From weird, casual flings with men that don't really stick, to self-medicating and cramming down unexplored longing. This book has some truly remarkable Generation X lesbian representation that I haven't seen in a book before. That earned it its second star. Otherwise this could have been a series of interesting food essays rather than a memoir.
Full of heart and wonderful descriptions of growing up on a farm. But some work was needed on the editing front, I think. It started with a steady story build and then the pacing went off kilter. The end felt rushed and thin compared to earlier sections. But the author's voice is strong and her struggles and passions very real.
Really well written. And inspiring at times. But I think the author — the famous chef — who wrote this book has a lot of growing to do, still. There were many instances were the language was transphobic. And I think this may stem from continued internalized homophobia. But... it was very offputting. I can’t recommend this book because of it.
I admire her enthusiasm, but her story is a little all over the place, no central thread. The geography is also confusing to anyone who has never visited Indiana or Chicago (several cities & neighborhoods are mentioned, with no indication if they're in Indiana or Chicago).
It was only when I finished reading this memoir by Iliana Regan, arguably one of the most creative chefs in the world, that I realised the first two-thirds contained almost no, or at least very little, cooking or food. Those two-thirds were about the farmhouse where she grew up, her sexuality, her gender, her alcoholism, her family and the death of her sister. It’s only once she starts writing about food and cooking that you realise everything in her life leads to this. Her food is grounded in those places and experiences. It’s a story of being and becoming and I found it compelling and moving and inspiring.
An emotional and remarkable memoir from renowned chef Iliana Regan. You never know the hardships and struggles of someone until you read about them. I liked this look into Iliana's life. Learning about her connection to food and the earth from such a young age. Being gay, alcoholism and being a chef in a predominantly male profession. This was a raw, deeply honest look into her life.
Great memoir, particularly for those interested in Chicago food culture or Michelin restaurants. I’ve seen some criticism that this is more a Midwestern queer coming out experience than a food book. It is both, because it is a memoir of a complex and layered person. I think asking Regan to ‘stay in the kitchen’ reflects an unfair expectation that women are expected to pick one piece of their identity to highlight or be proud of. Regan is a dynamic person and chef, she is all the things that are explained in this book, and I’m glad she didn’t limit herself to her restaurant stories.
This is very heavily a love letter to family, to food, to the matter of fact butchering, gigging frogs, and growing up as a tomboy on a farm. Sensitive readers may not do well.
An example:
"For all the bad rap the carnies got, I could see myself as one. I could have easily joined their club. Their whiskey breath, faded tattoos, rolled-up sleeves, cigarettes dangling from their lips. It was mysterious, the idea of living everywhere and nowhere at once, setting up spectacles in small towns overnight. I was ten; my ambitions weren’t high. I had also dreamed of working at Dairy Queen purely to be within constant reach of bacon cheeseburgers, fries, and chocolate-dipped chocolate ice cream cones."
Iliana writes of growing up confused and wild, raised as a boy, liking girls, losing herself in alcohol too frequently. Accidents, arrests, and poor decision litter the pages, a stark accounting of life's twists and turns. Names, jobs, and relationships flit in and out, the timeline fluid as random neural firings dictate the flow of the book. It's scattered, sporadic, and difficult to go along with at times.
In short, a perfect representation of her racing, often troubled mind.