In a kitchen, no one will hear you burn

America likes comeback stories, right? Well, here I am. A lost cause. A useless French prick who becomes a model. Then the black hole—drugs, booze, vanity—and on the verge of oblivion and darkness… a fucking miracle. Not faith, no… but love. Love for a craft. Love for a woman. Love for life… at last. This isn't a success story but a tale of redemption — a fight against agony and boredom—and, at the end of a road, cleansed by the flames of chaos: a black jacket with my name on it, a chef's knife, a wife, two kids, and a dog. This book is thirty years of working in restaurants. Behind the scenes, it's urban guerrilla. The dining room and the kitchen are both war zones. Forget the glitter and the TV shows; there's no glamour here—only sleepless nights and scars. Burnouts, shitty services, and moments of grace. You'll meet beautiful maniacs, glorious idiots, friends, waiters on the verge of breakdown, cooks one step away from the psych ward, and pain-in-the-ass customers. This is my life; this story is raw, unapologetic, pathetic, and filthy. And yet… seasoned with some tenderness but spiced with self-mockery, irony, and a sharp second degree. It screams that it's better to burn in the kitchens of hell than fade away in silence. Chapters are served like a tasting menu. and they smell like roasted garlic, fire, sweat, excess, and rock and roll. So, bring your broken hearts, your ridiculous demands, and your dumb complaints. The chef's waiting—knives sharpened. Welcome to my kitchen.