I Hear She's a Real Bitch

I Hear She's a Real Bitch by Jen Agg    288 pages

That title catches your eye, right?  It caught mine and I had no idea who Jen Agg is. She's a restaurateur in Toronto who has a number of successful businesses and the title of the New York Times review of this book says it's "A Swaggering, Feminist Restaurant Memoir."

I would agree with that. Jen Agg definitely has swagger and she's completely unapologetic. About, well, just about everything. I found this an interesting read (admittedly, I am a sucker for a restaurateur/chef memoir) and while I sometimes found her writing grated on me, I appreciated that she is completely, honestly, herself. She doesn't hold back, which can make for some pretty funny observations.  She doesn't just write about her life and businesses, but also gives her opinions and insights into how society (not just the restaurant business) definitely has double standards for men and women.  It was interesting to read and I found myself nodding to myself a few times. For example, on p. 239, she writes, "...anecdotal evidence strongly suggests that it's more important for women to appear to be warm, even as they are actually being warm."  That example is from an interaction with a customer, and how that customer's whole communication changed when Agg's male staff member spoke to the customer.

One last quote from the New York Times review about this book: "In “I Hear She’s a Real Bitch,” Agg brags, she swaggers, she writes in great detail about her appetites — for junk food, music, sex. She is also relentlessly digressive — one of the truest signs of robust self-regard. Reading Agg’s book, I felt as if I was spending hours with someone who was pacing and rambling, expecting me to scribble disorderly dictation into my steno pad, stopping on occasion to ask me imperiously: “Are you getting all this?”

I think that's why, while I found this book to be an interesting read, I don't think I'll pick it up for a re-read. A few times, I found her to be a bit relentless, the swagger a bit much, and while I appreciate her honesty, it did feel a little like she was super self-absorbed at times.   Sorry, one more NYT reference which I also agreed with: "I found myself wishing Agg would withhold some of what she discloses. I support talking about sex and cursing, but I gasped out loud at a scene involving spiked grape soda, oral sex and purple puke. Other readers may find such revelations disarmingly open and unedited."