Bill Buford’s previous culinary memoir, HEAT, was one of my favorite books of 2006. I loved reading his no-holds-barred, behind-the-scenes, often hilarious examination of what really happens in the kitchens of Italian chef Mario Batali (a vision that has since been somewhat clouded by subsequent revelations about Batali’s inappropriate behavior with female colleagues and guests, but whose insights about the toxicity of restaurant kitchens feel that much more relevant as a result). Needless to say, I was eager to read Buford’s new memoir, DIRT, in which he upends his young family’s life and puts his career on the line to explore an even more revered culinary destination: Lyon, France.

Buford, whose impetuousness comes off as charmingly enthusiastic, is determined to undertake a rigorous series of internships in some of the most famed eateries in the world. He’s convinced he has an edge because he’s already friends with one of Lyon’s favorite sons, Daniel Boulud, but he soon discovers that breaking into the French culinary establishment --- and Lyon’s proud and tradition-laden position at its center --- is about as difficult as making a perfect omelet.

"One wonders if Buford will again upend his family’s life to embark on another international culinary adventure. If so, readers will be eager to pack up and follow along."

After a stint at his local boulangerie (his bittersweet friendship with its owner forms the emotional core of the story) and an intense course at an esteemed culinary school, Buford finally lands a position at a restaurant, where he has to claw his way up from the garde manger station to eventually preparing “le personnel” --- the staff lunch. He overcomes his nerves (and his chronic lateness), eventually delighting his colleagues with such unaccustomed delicacies as tuna burgers and (gasp!) Italian food.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, given the topic of his earlier memoir, Buford continually circles back to a hypothesis that the Italian and French culinary traditions are more closely intertwined than originally thought (and any self-respecting French chef could admit). He spends a fair amount of the book exploring the possibility that Italian food influenced French cuisine (and Lyonnaise cuisine, more specifically) via travelers traversing the nearby Alps. Some of the history starts to read a little like inside baseball, but his premise will prompt at least some readers (and diners) to consider potential connections.

Buford paints Lyon as a city that is undoubtedly rich in culinary history but also far from perfect, with areas that are crime-ridden, noisy and dirty --- hardly the picture-perfect vision of a French landscape. Likewise, he illustrates just how difficult rising through the ranks of restaurant kitchens can be, even for classically trained young chefs --- especially when those chefs are women or non-white.

Much of the humor here comes from anecdotes about Buford’s surprisingly resilient young family. His wine expert wife and their two young sons (who are toddlers when they arrive in France) tolerate his whimsical notions and his long hours, and come to love their life in Lyon. The ending of DIRT finds the family back in New York, where Buford’s sons --- who by this point have spent more than half their life in France and are more fluent in French than in English --- are horrified by American school cafeteria food.

One wonders if Buford will again upend his family’s life to embark on another international culinary adventure. If so, readers will be eager to pack up and follow along.