Regan’s struggles and eventual triumph make Burn the Place a riveting read ... Regan’s work is essential reading for people who love cooking, and for everyone who appreciates stories of courage and creative spirit.
Being harsh, prickly and foulmouthed is nothing new when it comes to chefs, but Burn the Place is anything but a typical chef’s memoir ... It’s fascinating to get a glimpse of the creative and scientific process behind her unusual dishes, but, regrettably, this segment of her story isn’t just too short but undermined by a slapdash style. Her book would have benefited from some of the obsessive polish she brings to her food preparation.
Regan's debut memoir is an unusually poetic journey ... From tales of picking raspberries as a child to crafting eclectic and foraged cuisine at her two restaurants, it's clear that food is one of Regan's passions. She warmly tells about her life ... A well-written and honest chef memoir, both rough and charming.
...[a] biting debut memoir ... Foodies will appreciate this blistering yet tender story of a woman transforming Midwestern cooking, in a fresh voice all her own.
The reader absorbs [Regan's] stories just like mushrooms absorb wine used to enhance their flavor ... Her truthfulness can be frightening if the reader is not accustomed to an honest expression of identity. This memoir shows a woman who has taken a long, hard look at herself and tells us what she has discovered.
The basic narrative elements that comprise Regan’s story—a misfit hero fumbling and bootstrapping her way to culinary fame—are compelling. However, the temporally fractured nature of the story makes it difficult to follow, and the unevenness of the writing—sometimes lively, sometimes messy and unconsidered—makes for less than satisfying reading. An interesting life rendered in a flawed manner.
