Recently, I was having a conversation about people who, when they don’t manage to achieve their goals when they originally expected to, tend to heap the blame on external factors.

Some blame their spouses (“if only I hadn’t married so young”), their families (“I didn’t get the emotional/financial support that I needed from my parents”) or society itself (“those jerks wouldn’t know true talent if it bit them in the ...”).

But then there are some people who, despite whatever inconvenient circumstances they are dealt, their setbacks and crises, they know they can only blame themselves if they don’t press on and keep driving to succeed.

This is inspiringly illustrated in renowned cook Marcus Samuelsson’s memoir, “Yes, Chef,” an exceptional story of a man who not only worked harder and more determinedly to reach his goals than most, but achieved honors in his trade before most of us even begin our journeys toward success.

Samuelsson, an Ethiopian child orphaned along with his older sister, was adopted by Swedish parents and integrated into a traditional family. His passion for cooking started with making roasted chicken dinners alongside his Mormor, or grandmother. As he grew older his cooking skills developed as he apprenticed in various high class restaurants throughout northern Europe.

Eventually, his culinary journey would take him to New York City, where he would become a prominent chef at the Aquavit. At the age of 24, he earned a three-star rating from the New York Times’ top food critic. From there he would go on to host dinners at the White House, become a featured guest on TV shows and eventually open his own restaurant in Harlem, the Red Rooster. Samuelsson’s memoir is not just an ode to the love of cooking, but it is an expression of gratitude toward the people that motivated, supported and helped him to accomplish his endeavors and survive through his many life crises.

Samuelsson’s passion for food shines in his writing, as he lovingly describes the coming together of ingredients and the formation of fine cuisine. He draws us into his world of manic-paced kitchens, no-nonsense employers and competitive chef-hopefuls.

The more calamitous events of his life come across almost casually, even rather stoically for someone who clearly harbors fervor for his achievements. His personal trials include the death of a friend in a car accident and the impregnation of a young woman during a one-night-stand.

It is hard to say whether he seems to gloss through those memories because they are painful for him to recount or because he detached himself so well from anything that could negatively affect his career (numerous scenarios in his story show how uncontrolled emotions can be a crutch in the cooking world).

There are moments when Samuelsson seems cold — how he sometimes had to turn away people who loved him but may have hindered his hard work, or how he could not show sympathy toward fellow cooks who didn’t take the work as seriously as he did.

But this is a man who also knows the agony of having a dream severed. Much of Samuelsson’s childhood revolved around his love for playing soccer. When he was cut from his home city’s premier sports team merely because he was too small, it only makes sense that he would pour his entire soul into making sure that his greatest ambitions never were stripped from him again.

“Yes, Chef,” while not the most eloquent of memoirs, is inspirational. For those who may feel that the odds are stacked against them when it comes to living their dreams, I encourage you to give this book a read.

Whether you are passionate about cooking, or whichever talent or trade brings you happiness, this is a story that will keep the flame of your ambition burning.

Alison Reeger Cook is a Gainesville resident whose Off the Shelves book review appears every other week in Sunday Life. Know of a good book to review? E-mail her to tell her about it. Her column appears biweekly and on gainesvilletimes.com/life.