You won't regret this

The New York TIMES gave a great review to I REGRET ALMOST EVERYTHING, the memoir by Keith McNally. And even less important, so do I.

You can shell out $30 to buy the book or wait a long time to take it out of the library (as I did) but I recommend reading it. Until then, you can follow him on Instagram ,where he describes himself as a "Deadbeat New York Restaurateur."

But deadbeats don't own ten restaurants in New York, plus homes in the city and Martha's Vineyard and back home in his native England, where he grew up the son of a stevedore and a working mom who taught him not to be a snob by being a snob.

And he dislikes being called a restaurateur, too.  “Not only am I saddled with a first name I can’t stand, I chose a profession with a name I dislike even more: restaurateur. Does a plumber call himself a plombier? Trust the French to come up with the most pretentious word in the dictionary. And just to make it extra difficult for us to pronounce, the bastards went and took the n out of the word.”

I like him because he does not sugarcoat that which he does not like, including bad lighting, arrogant maître d’s, and restaurants without cheeseburgers. Patti Smith and James Corden, because they treated his staff badly. And he loves leaving parties early. (“There are few feelings of relief that compare to the first gulp of night air after leaving a dinner party prematurely.")

So, what's not to like? He's had success- did I mention the ten restaurants? - and failure, in lesser measure. He opened a pizzeria in New York that flopped. That's like you-know-who opening casinos in Atlantic City that went under. Both of his marriages ended in divorce and his relationships with his five children are...let's say, choppy. (“You’re never out of the woods with your own kids. Not even when you’re dead and buried.”)

Which he is not, although a severe stroke put him close to the end zone a few years ago, and he still hasn't full use of his right hand, his speech, or his ability to express his thoughts. Where words once flowed, he needs now to stop and think about almost each one. Very sad for such a witty person.

He wonders in print if the stroke was “retribution for a life shot through with questionable behavior."

If there is anyone alive whose behavior is not occasionally questionable, I sure don't know them. But few of us imperfectos are as willing as McNally to detail their faults and foibles as fully and as funnily as he.

I think you'll enjoy the book.

It's the only memoir from a restaurant person that does not give deep details about how to make Béarnaise sauce, and for that, I know you'll enjoy the book!