What the Characters of Bob’s Burgers Would Actually Read

Because if anyone needs a library card, it's the Belchers.

Welcome back to Literary Links! Today, we’re diving into the delightfully odd reading habits of the Bob’s Burgers crew. From burger-flipping philosophy to emotionally charged horse romance, we’ve curated the books each character would 100% recommend whether the rest of us are ready or not.

Get your shelves ready. Things are about to get… Belcher-y.

Bob Belcher

The quietly passionate chef with deeply held opinions about broth and an emotional connection to his spice rack.

Bob Belcher doesn’t just cook—he feels food. Each simmer, each sear, each carefully measured dash of paprika is a reflection of his soul. His love for broth is borderline spiritual; he treats a good beef stock like it’s a masterpiece and will quietly mourn the mistakes of a pot gone wrong.

His spice rack is his altar. Cinnamon? Sacred. Smoked paprika? Revered. Garlic powder? Treasured, though occasionally argued about with Gene when the boy tries to invent “experimental” burger toppings. Bob whispers to his spices, names them, and sometimes apologizes for over-salting a dish, as if the rosemary will notice and feel hurt.

He’s calm, reserved, and mostly diplomatic… until someone questions the sanctity of the roux, at which point he unleashes a quiet storm of culinary moral judgment. Bob is the chef who will spend twenty minutes explaining why tomato paste must be cooked just so, then sigh deeply, and quietly walk away while humming a sad, broth-inspired tune.

In short: Bob is the kind of man who makes food with love, talks to his spatulas when no one is looking, and firmly believes that a burger can fix almost anything—except bad seasoning, and don’t even get him started on frozen fries.

Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain

Bob doesn’t just read this book—he communes with it. He absorbs it. He treats it like it’s the Dead Sea Scrolls of culinary truth. After finishing each chapter, he pauses for a solid minute, stares into the void over the deep fryer, and breathes out, “You understand me, Anthony,” like he’s speaking to his long-lost soulmate.

Linda has caught him holding the book gently, like a newborn. Gene has caught him reading it in the walk-in fridge for “privacy.” Tina once walked in on him giving the book a pep talk before starting the lunch rush. Bob insists this is all “normal chef behavior.”

Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat by Samin Nosrat

Every page of this book feels like a personal endorsement of Bob’s worldview. He reads it the way some people read self-help—except instead of improving himself emotionally, he improves himself culinarily (and honestly, that’s just who he is).

When Samin says salt matters, Bob nods with the intensity of someone who has built his entire sense of self on seasoning. When she talks about acid, he whispers, “Yes, yes, balance,” like he’s talking to a spiritual guide. When she explains heat, Bob taps the page and mutters, “See, this is why you don’t microwave burgers, Teddy.”

And anytime Gene comes near him with a questionable flavor combination—grape jelly, marshmallow fluff, or anything that jiggles—Bob calmly picks up this book and holds it between them like a culinary shield.

Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters

This is Bob’s comfort read the way some people turn on soft jazz or light candles. When the day is stressful, when the grill is cranky, or when Linda announces she’s trying “experimental interpretive cooking,” Bob cracks open this book and lets Alice Waters restore his soul.

It's full of gentle reminders about ingredients and intention, which Bob reads like they’re emotional affirmations. “Use what’s fresh and in season,” he reads, exhaling like he’s just lowered his blood pressure by 30 points. “Let flavors speak for themselves,” he whispers, while glaring at Gene, who is attempting to fold lasagna noodles into a burrito.

Bob also keeps this book on the highest shelf, because Gene once accidentally used it as a coaster, causing Bob to age 10 years in one second.

Linda Belcher

The mom who is 80% enthusiasm, 20% jazz hands and 100% ready to turn any mundane moment into a Broadway production.

Linda Belcher approaches life like every day is opening night—and the world is her stage. Grocery shopping? A chance for a dramatic solo about kale. Doing laundry? Perfect for an impromptu tap dance number in the living room. Even waiting for the kids to finish homework becomes an opportunity for interpretive hand gestures and exaggerated sighs worthy of a Tony nomination.

She talks in full musical beats, narrates her thoughts aloud, and can somehow turn a simple “let’s clean the fridge” into a performance that involves song, dance, and an emotional monologue about expired yogurt. Bob has long accepted that trying to intervene is pointless; even Gene and Tina are used to spontaneously joining—or running for cover.

Linda’s enthusiasm is infectious, her jazz hands are relentless, and her life philosophy is simple: why live quietly when you can live in high C major? Every conversation with Linda is a potential ensemble number, every sigh a dramatic crescendo, and every meal a potential curtain call.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Linda doesn’t just read this book—she lives it. Every three pages, she gasps dramatically, fans herself, and declares to Bob, “Bobby, if I were a glamorous old Hollywood icon, I would definitely survive seven husbands, and probably start a few movie studios on the side!”

She also sometimes pauses to practice her “sultry stare” in reflective surfaces around the restaurant—usually the freezer door. Tina and Gene have been banned from entering the room during these practice sessions because they “ruin the vibe.”

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

Linda reads this book and immediately decides she’s going to meditate. She sits cross-legged on the floor, closes her eyes, and inhales… then exhales… and promptly sighs, “Okay, maybe this is more like… one breath of peace.”

Five seconds later, she’s back up, narrating her spiritual journey to anyone within earshot—including Bob, who is slowly trying to drown her voice out with the blender. Despite the brief meditation, Linda still insists the book changed her life and demands everyone try it too.

Mamma Mia! How Can I Resist You? by Ulvaeus & Andersson

Linda treats this book like a sacred text. She reads it, sings the soundtrack continuously for three days, and forces the kids to join her in impromptu choreography—usually in the middle of the kitchen while burgers are cooking.

Even Teddy has been roped in for a duet, and Bob has learned the hard way that trying to serve a burger while Linda is performing “Dancing Queen” is a legally gray area. Linda claims it’s “educational,” but everyone knows it’s just pure, unfiltered joy (and chaos).

Tina Belcher

13-year-old romantic philosopher with a black belt in longing.

Tina Belcher exists in a world of silent swoons, awkward glances, and intense internal monologues about the complex emotional lives of horses—and occasionally boys. She approaches life like a deeply thoughtful (and slightly sweaty) meditation on puberty, desire, and the moral implications of fanfiction.

Tina carries a notebook filled with brooding poetry, questionable romantic advice, and meticulously cataloged fantasies about Jimmy Jr. Her thoughts are both profound and hilarious: one moment she’s philosophizing about the universe, the next she’s wondering if the condiments aisle could be a romantic meet-cute.

Social interactions? Awkward but sincere. Crushes? All-consuming. Dancing? Sometimes flailing, always earnest. Tina’s brilliance lies in her ability to feel deeply, analyze everything, and commit fully to the strange, beautiful, and often awkward adventures of adolescence.

In short: Tina is a young philosopher of the heart, a scholar of swooning, and the undisputed queen of dramatic pauses while thinking about butts.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies by Seth Grahame-Smith

Tina reads this and immediately announces that Mr. Darcy is “even hotter when he’s emotionally distant and covered in zombie gore.” She also writes extensive notes on which Bennet sister would be the best at slow-mo dramatic kissing scenes.

The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater

Wild horses? Dangerous races? Intense simmering eye contact? Tina pretends she’s reading it “for the mythology,” but really she’s imagining Jimmy Jr. riding a giant carnivorous horse and whispering, “This is extremely my aesthetic.”

The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight by Jennifer E. Smith

Tina considers this book “scientific proof” that love can happen anywhere—including airports, the library, and the condiment aisle of the grocery store. She reads it with a highlighter and labels her notes “Romantic Hypothesis Testing.”

Gene Belcher

Human soundboard. Walking musical. Pajama enthusiast.

Gene Belcher is a one-person orchestra trapped in a 12-year-old body, with a flair for the dramatic and an unshakable commitment to wearing pajamas at all times—because why not? He expresses every emotion, idea, and random thought through music, often accompanying it with improvised drum beats on whatever surface is nearby (usually a table, chair, or unsuspecting sibling).

He treats everyday life like a musical number waiting to happen: walking to the fridge becomes a drum solo, handing out napkins turns into a baritone ballad, and announcing that “the burger’s ready” is basically a show-stopping number. Gene is endlessly creative, unapologetically loud, and unfailingly earnest, with a penchant for turning even mundane tasks into performances of operatic magnitude.

In short: Gene is chaos wrapped in melody, a walking soundtrack to life’s absurdities, and the only person who can make a grocery run feel like a Broadway finale.

Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen

Gene reads just five pages and immediately declares he’s inspired to write a rock opera about a man who tunes pianos and feelings simultaneously. He sketches out elaborate song lyrics in crayon, practices key changes in the bathroom, and occasionally performs “dramatic interpretive keyboard solos” in the middle of the restaurant.

Bob has learned to accept spontaneous performances as part of the dining experience. Patrons are… less sure.

Broadway Barks by Bernadette Peters

Gene interprets this heartwarming, animal-loving Broadway tale as a personal challenge and spends the week narrating everything in ballad form while insisting he’s “connected to the emotional journey of the dogs.”

Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs by Judi Barrett

Gene is utterly convinced this book is prophetic. He firmly believes the universe has destined him to live in a world where spaghetti rains from the sky and meatball avalanches are a daily hazard.

He’s spent hours drawing maps of his “ideal meatball weather system” and planning evacuation drills for imaginary pasta storms. Bob, bless him, quietly refuses to interfere—mostly because correcting Gene would involve explaining the difference between fiction and prophecy, and that’s a fight Bob knows he will lose.

Louise Belcher

Adorable mastermind with a suspiciously specific knowledge of revenge plots and a terrifying capacity for chaos.

Louise Belcher is small in stature but colossal in ambition, cunning, and mischief. She approaches life like a tactical mission: every seemingly innocent comment, every pink bunny ear flick, is a calculated step toward world domination—or at least mild domestic mayhem.

She has a sixth sense for spotting weakness, a limitless imagination for mischief, and an uncanny ability to turn mundane situations into elaborate schemes. Whether it’s rigging pranks, interrogating her siblings, or negotiating with unsuspecting adults, Louise operates like a tiny general leading a covert army of chaos agents.

Her charm is disarming, her smile is dangerous, and her pink bunny ears are basically a warning label. Louise may be adorable, but underestimate her at your peril—she’s as likely to manipulate a lunch order as she is to orchestrate an elaborate revenge plot involving chocolate pudding, dirt, and highly questionable ethics.

Holes by Louis Sachar

Louise doesn’t just read Holes—she becomes it. She reenacts the shovel scenes with marshmallows, intense glee, and occasionally mutters ominous lines to the walls. Bob once found her staring at a mound of sugar-coated “dirt” and plotting something vaguely sinister involving Gene, a carrot, and a dramatic monologue. Tina tried to join in, but Louise kicked her out for “not committing enough to the concept.”

Louise identifies so heavily with Count Olaf that she frequently refers to herself in the third person while wearing her pink bunny ears. She reads passages aloud, occasionally pausing to invent nefarious disguises for herself around the house. The book inspires elaborate schemes involving pranks, psychological warfare, and—on Tuesdays—“necessary interrogations” of anyone who touches her chocolate pudding.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

Louise is convinced Merricat is a kindred spirit, and she treats the book like a blueprint for life. She occasionally whispers to the walls, “You understand me, Merricat,” and then glares suspiciously at Bob when he tries to suggest bedtime. Gene once asked if he could be a Merricat sidekick, and Louise’s answer involved a stern lecture on loyalty, fear, and the proper way to throw dirt at intruders.

Teddy

The wholesome handyman who feels things very deeply and cries at mildly inspiring commercials.

Teddy is the kind of guy who fixes a leaky faucet and then gives it a pep talk about believing in itself. Every emotional moment—be it a heartwarming story, a compliment from Bob, or a mildly inspiring commercial—hits him like a tidal wave of feelings. He laughs, he cries, and sometimes he does both at the same time while holding a wrench.

Teddy approaches life with sincerity so pure it’s almost overwhelming. He treats his tools like companions, his handyman work like a calling, and every small act of kindness as though it were a moment worthy of a cinematic soundtrack. Conversations with him are a mix of practical advice, deep emotional insight, and unintentional comedic timing, usually delivered with a nervous chuckle and a heart full of hope.

In short: Teddy is equal parts emotional sponge, loyal friend, and accidental philosopher—always ready to fix your broken shelf, your day, or your heart.

The Repair Shop: Life in the Barn by Jay Blades

Teddy cries four separate times while reading this book—sometimes in the middle of the diner. He then turns to Bob with wide, teary eyes and asks, “Do you think I should… get into woodworking emotionally?” Bob nods awkwardly while Gene uses the distraction to bang on a trash can like a drum.

The World According to Mister Rogers by Fred Rogers

Teddy treats this like scripture. He takes notes, highlights quotes, and sometimes quotes Mister Rogers aloud while fixing a leaky faucet, nodding solemnly as if he’s channeling his spiritual guide through a hammer.

Teddy laughs so hard at this book that he nearly chokes on a pretzel. Then he declares it a positive review, gives it five stars, and considers buying it for every member of the diner staff.

Jimmy Pesto

Businessman. Rival. Pizza overlord. Occasional chaos generator.

Jimmy Pesto is the kind of man who treats the art of pizza like a battlefield and lunch hour like an international summit. He approaches life with a mix of bravado, theatrics, and an unshakable belief that every decision—no matter how questionable—is a masterstroke of entrepreneurial genius.

Every rivalry with Bob is a high-stakes operation, every marketing idea is “brilliant” even when it’s absurd, and every gesture is designed to assert dominance… sometimes over the pizzeria next door, sometimes over the condiment station. He thrives on attention, imagines himself a hospitality visionary, and will highlight only the sections of business books that validate his ego.

In short: Jimmy Pesto is equal parts competitive titan, dramatic showman, and charmingly misguided pizza impresario, capable of generating chaos with nothing more than a smile and a well-timed slice of pepperoni.

The Art of War by Sun Tzu

Jimmy uses this as a guide for his pizza empire. He interprets every quote as a justification for aggressive menu marketing and sudden price increases. “If you know your pizza and your customer,” he mutters, “you will conquer the lunch rush.” Bob nods once, silently weeping.

Setting the Table by Danny Meyer

Jimmy tells everyone he’s “basically a hospitality visionary now” after reading this book. He folds napkins at the wrong angle just to look important and expects applause.

How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie

Jimmy highlights only the sections that validate his worst traits. The rest? Ignored. He now believes smiling while overcharging is a skill, and everyone else is just too naïve to see it.

Aunt Gayle

Poet. Artist. Cat empath. Part-time chaos whisperer.

Aunt Gayle exists in a world where the line between reality and whimsical nonsense is delightfully blurry. She senses emotions in the air, reads the moods of every cat in the room, and can recite poetry that leaves both humans and felines equally befuddled.

Her artistic pursuits range from creating slightly unsettling paintings to experimenting with crafts that make you wonder if gravity still applies. She’s deeply sensitive, dramatically expressive, and occasionally terrifying in her intensity—but somehow, it all comes across as quirky charm rather than menace. Gayle has an uncanny knack for stirring the pot (sometimes literally, sometimes figuratively) while simultaneously insisting she’s “just helping the energy flow.”

In short: Gayle is a chaotic mix of creativity, empathy, and eccentricity—part visionary, part mischief-maker, all unpredictably delightful.

The Butterfly Garden by Dot Hutchison

Gayle picked this up thinking it was about butterflies. By the end, she’s emotionally “very fluttery” and whispers to the cats, “It’s… so inspiring.” The cats remain unimpressed.

The Life-Changing Magic of Not Giving a

Fck by Sarah Knight

Gayle adopts this philosophy enthusiastically, then panics about what that might mean for her cats, her aura, and the universe. She burns sage “for safety” while muttering affirmations occasionally threatening to redecorate the apartment.

Poems Bewitched and Haunted edited by John Hollander

Gayle reads this aloud to her cats in a dramatic whisper. She occasionally pauses to gesture mysteriously at invisible forces in the air. The cats, still unimpressed, occasionally knock the book onto the floor in protest.

Regular-Sized Rudy

Sweet cinnamon roll with an inhaler and a heart too big for his size.

Rudy is the kind of kid who radiates warmth, kindness, and just enough awkward energy to make everyone smile. He approaches the world with gentle enthusiasm, an infectious curiosity, and the occasional squeaky protest when things get a little too exciting. His inhaler is practically an extension of his personality—a small, heroic sidekick that ensures he can keep up with the chaos around him.

Rudy cares deeply about people, animals, and even the tiniest injustices, often going out of his way to help, comfort, or quietly cheer on anyone in need. He’s endlessly sweet, a little anxious, and always ready to hug a book, a friend, or even an unsuspecting robot.

In short: Rudy is a tender-hearted bundle of goodness, a small but mighty presence, and the kind of kid who makes every story feel a little warmer just by being in it.

Wonder by R.J. Palacio

Rudy hugs this book after reading it. He may or may not whisper, “I relate to all of it,” as he pats his inhaler for comfort.

Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney

Rudy finds the awkwardness relatable in a “hopeful but wheezy” kind of way. He’s been known to reread sections aloud to Gene, who responds with appropriate eye rolls and drum solos.

The Wild Robot by Peter Brown

Rudy feels “robot feelings” and immediately rereads it, then tries to teach inanimate objects empathy—usually chairs and condiment dispensers.

Zeke

Friendly troublemaker. Dance enthusiast. Emotionally expressive in the most dramatic ways.

Zeke reads life like a musical and approaches friendship like a full-contact sport. He has the rare ability to take even the simplest lesson—like “your emotions are important”—and turn it into a theatrical, interpretive dance performance. He studies people (usually Jimmy Jr.) like they’re living case studies, and then delivers advice with sweeping arm gestures, intense facial expressions, and occasional jazz hands.

In short: Zeke is equal parts hype-man, philosopher, and choreographer, always ready to help you process your feelings—preferably through spontaneous interpretive dance.

The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk

Zeke reads this book so he can lecture Jimmy Jr., saying, “Bro, your emotions gotta come out—preferably through interpretive dance.” Jimmy Jr. complies reluctantly.

Jimmy Jr.

Teen dancer. Slightly oblivious. Forever dramatic in the best way.

Jimmy Jr. lives life one awkward jazz routine at a time. He treats every room as a stage, every movement as a statement, and every conversation as a potential dance number. Muscle diagrams? He studies them obsessively so he can execute his moves with “scientific precision,” much to the confusion and occasional horror of anyone watching.

In short: Jimmy Jr. is a teen walking, talking, and flailing in perfect rhythm—a blend of awkward confidence, rhythmic determination, and enthusiasm that’s impossible not to watch

Dance Anatomy by Jacqui Greene Haas

Jimmy Jr. studies every muscle diagram with painstaking detail, then performs elaborate jazz routines that no one asked for. Sometimes he performs them at the diner. Sometimes he does them on the roof. Everyone sighs.

Mort

Funeral home proprietor. Morbidly curious. Socially oblivious.

Mort has a fascination with the macabre and approaches life with the polite enthusiasm of someone who just discovered a book on embalming techniques. He’s the type to describe Stiff as “a delightful professional read” and then recommend it at parties, causing a mixture of awe, discomfort, and immediate exit among the guests. Mort is sweet, meticulous, and oblivious to social cues—but always charming in the most awkward way.

In short: Mort is a curious mix of morbidity, kindness, and oddly endearing awkwardness, someone who could make you laugh, cringe, and learn something about cadavers all at once.

Stiff by Mary Roach

Mort calls this book “a delightful professional read” and recommends it at parties. Reactions vary—most people clear the room immediately, while Mort looks pleased, oblivious, and slightly smug.

Whether you identify with a quiet, broth-obsessed chef or a chaotic bunny-ear-wearing mastermind, the Belcher universe reminds us that there’s a book for every kind of reader. Try one of these picks for yourself—you might just find a new favorite (or at least laugh imagining Gene singing the footnotes).