Contains a remarkably graphic, and completely unforgettable, behind-the-scenes look at restaurant kitchens.

orwell's semi-autobiographical account of poverty in paris and london had a sixty-year jump on anthony bourdain's percussive 'kitchen confidential.' plus, as far as i know, tony never had to pawn his clothes.

to a modern ear, orwell's prose feels somewhat stilted, but it's worth a read.