I never knew what it would take to become a chef. Now I know I'd never want to go through that.

That statement is one of the reasons Michael Ruhlman wrote this book. He wanted to know what it would take to become a chef through the Culinary Institute of America, and he knew that what he wrote about his two years there would either persuade aspiring cooks to attend, or tell people to stay away and choose another career path.

While most of you know that I enjoy cooking and baking (it's actually cathartic for me), I can tell you right now there's no way I would make it at the CIA. I mean, if I set my mind to it and I really wanted it, I'm sure I could graduate. But I doubt that I would truly enjoy what I was doing (that's the thing about school: it takes what you love and crams it down your throat until you don't even like it anymore...but that's another story).

Ruhlman does a great job of getting you into the daily lives of students at the CIA. The main focus of his work is ever-present: show the average person the kind of hard work and sacrifice it takes to become a good cook. But there's also the underlying story of Ruhlman's own goal to not just be a writer telling the school's and students' stories, but to actually become a cook himself. This, I think, is what ties the book together and makes it more than just a journalistic non-fiction read. Ruhlman's story is essential to the progression of the book; there's a circular journey rather than simply a linear Day One to Graduation feel.

It's obvious that Ruhlman is passionate about what he's learning and the people he meets. However, it does, at times, become tedious and confusing. He packs two years' worth of academic knowledge and people into 305 pages. Students (at least at the time - the book was published in 1996) had blocks of classes that could be as short as 7 days each. That means there are a lot of new people to introduce to the reader on a regular basis, and sometimes, at least for me, it was a bit hard to keep people straight. Another issue I had was some of the language, although this wasn't so much an issue as a slight annoyance at myself. I truly believe that if I knew French, I would be a better cook. At least I'd be able to understand the names of many of the dishes and items Ruhlman wrote about, not to mention I'd be able to pronounce them.

But, that aside, I learned a lot. I even learned a new phrase: "in the weeds." I'd never heard it before, and although Ruhlman didn't explain it (maybe he thought it was common knowledge?) it was pretty easy to realize it meant that a cook had fallen behind and was rushing just to keep up with the speed of the orders. While some parts, as I mentioned before, were a bit tedious (I really didn't need to know every ingredient that went into random meals) others were fascinating (it turns out I was interested in knowing exactly what ingredients were needed to make glace).

4 out of 5 stars. While this isn't a book I would sit down and read again, this is a book I would recommend. I learned so much and have a very deep appreciation for cooks everywhere, especially those that are formally trained. I definitely want to visit the CIA's four restaurants, where the students are both waiters and cooks. This book taught me that while I may not want to ever attend a cooking school, there is so much to learn about cooking and baking (because baking really is a different beast) and I'm grateful that I had an insider's view into the top cooking school in America. ( )

I was sad when I finished this book because I couldn't read it anymore. I loved it. ( )

Really great. The 'sequels' are really bad. ( )

The Making of a Chef is the first book in Michael Ruhlman's food journey. Fascinated by his great-uncle's memories of a favorite potato dish, he attends the Culinary Institute of America (CIA) to see what a chef's education is like.

Everyone knew Ruhlman was a journalist, which some critics have cited as a weakness; however, it gave Ruhlman access to professors and administrators who might not have talked so candidly with a student. He used it to his advantage, eventually even interviewing the President of the school about everything from a chef's life to the recipe for a perfect brown sauce.

The 'personal journey" aspect of the book is brief but significant: one wintery day Ruhlman calls his professor and tells him he won't be in due to the weather. His professor makes it clear that this decision will keep Rulhman forever in the ranks of the amateur: that a real cook "gets it done" no matter what it takes. This is the turning point for Ruhlman, and allows him to embrace his subject instead of studying it like an observer.

Ruhlman's writing style is expository, and he describes each module he attends in detail. He's a good writer and manages to keep this from being boring, at least for anyone interested in knowing what the experience of attending a top-notch cooking school is like. There are a lot of books about the professional food experience out there, but this is by far one of the best. ( )

This book was so great for me to read because i hope to attend the CIA for college. This was the perfect insight on what it is like to be a student at the CIA from your first day, to graduation. Chef Michael Ruhlman gives a descriptive account of his experiences at the CIA and after reading this book i was even further convinced that the CIA is the place for me. The book is written in a really accessible way, at least to people that are familiar with culinary terminology. Even though this book is 10 years old, the information and style is still relevant.