A Restaurateur’s Review of Another Restaurateur’s Memoir
- Dan
- Oct 10
- 2 min read
Updated: Oct 29
I could say you should read Kevin Boehm’s memoir, because it’s a tale of entrepreneurial minefields, restaurant nightmares (including torching himself with a mini oven explosion), love, pain, confusion, perseverance, and self-discovery – and it’s a fun read, a fast read, in parts a very sad read, and you’ll enjoy it.
But that’s not why you must read it.
You must read The Bottomless Cup because it will make you a better human. You’ll be undeniably opened up as you consider what you might be missing with the people in your life. You’ll be reminded that what’s shown to others, or what’s visible on the outside, is not necessarily what one is showing to oneself or true on the inside. You’ll absorb the reality of the external narrative contrasted with the internal narrative. You’ll see that while America was discovering one of its most iconic restaurateurs, that restaurateur was lost to himself, and then found.
If you are in the hospitality biz or even consider yourself a foodie, there’s even more reason to read it. Publishers Weekly called it “a love letter to the hospitality industry,” as Kevin traces his path from dishwashing and waiting tables in Chicago to co-founding Boka Restaurant Group, the American powerhouse of award-winning, critically acclaimed restaurants. Kevin writes with raw honesty about setbacks and crises, both professional and personal, including struggles with mental health.
Bottom line: Read the book. It hits the shelves on November 4, 2025. If you live in the DC area, purchase tickets to a fireside chat with Kevin and me at Kramer Books in Dupont Circle on the evening of November 14.
As a disclaimer, I know I am a deeply biased book reviewer. Kevin is a friend. Not a long-time or close friend, but a friend indeed. I met him four or five years ago, as colleagues on an advisory board full of restaurateurs. I knew from the first time I listened to him share insights about his restaurants that I was collegially smitten. We shared experiences, shared restaurant struggles, and I admired the brilliance of his restaurants. And, as I got to know Kevin, I was thinking I was getting to know Kevin. In some ways I was, and in some ways I wasn’t. That’s part of what makes The Bottomless Cup so powerful. It invites you behind the curtain, into the quiet truth of a man who has spent his life creating joy for others, even as he’s learning how to offer that same grace to himself.
