#12.a Pages 117-148

The best humor in this book is to be found in the kitchen as opposed to on a culinary adventure. Check out these gems:

An Italian ragu and a French ragout are more or less the same thing. In any language, the process involves taking a piece of meat and, as it was described to me in the vernacular of the kitchen, cooking the shit out of the fucker.

Also, although you sprinkled cheese and parsley on at the end, the parsley was whole leaves, rather than the chopped-up feathery kind. Why? I didn't know why. I still don't know why. To fuck with my head - that's why.

I don't always get into vulgar language, but what the author is expressing is not just a reflection of the language in the kitchen, but he seems to have had fun writing the above. The type of writing completed while whistling.

Here's another review.