I’VE lived over half a century, and have had very few regrets in my life.
That said, one of those regrets is giving up the chance to see and meet Anthony Bourdain. Long story. The short of it is: he was here in Manila in 2016 for the World Street Food Congress, but the organizers and the PR team were being such b____es about the date, time and location of the interview/press conference, so I said, “F__k it. Not going.”
And I figured, he would be back. Bourdain’s affinity for the Philippines is unmistakable. He had said so himself, in that memorable feature in CNN’s Parts Unknown in April 2016, that his own daughter Ariane was raised by a Filipina nanny. And being an only child, Ariane had grown up with her nanny’s own family, her best friend or adopted brother being the latter’s son.
Bourdain had also expressed his wish to explore other regions in the country, which have had long culinary traditions, other than Pampanga and Cebu, which he had already visited in a previous trip on his old show, No Reservations. (A typhoon had prevented him and his crew from traveling further away from Metro Manila during his Parts Unknown visit.)
So like many of his fans, I’m still in tremendous shock over his passing. I was surprised at the depth of my emotions for the man; I wept like I lost an old friend. How could I cry and grieve over someone I had not even met?
According to recent reports, he took his own life, after being in a “dark mood for days,” according to his friend Le Bernardin’s Eric Ripert in a report to Bourdain’s mother.
On TV, Bourdain appeared always so cool, articulate, with a witty retort to any situation or person. I admired how he wrote so well, using crisp language to tell his stories and describe the places he’d been to, and the food he had eaten. He loved great films, so much so that even a few episodes of No Reservations started looking like Wong Kar Wai movies. He had a taste for loud rock music, which constantly became soundtracks to his TV episodes, or Instagram stories. And he read books, a very unique trait in this day and age. (A perennial favorite was Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness.)
Now it’s apparent that he was quite a different man away from the cameras. He went to battle with demons—as we all do—but instead of giving up, I’d like to think that in trademark Bourdain fashion, he just told them to go f__k themselves.
He would often feel that way about certain people, too, like Chef Alice Waters, founder of the iconic Chez Panisse in California. In a live interview with the New York Times’s Frank Bruni, Bourdain tore Waters to shreds, describing her as a “Pol Pot in a mumu.” This former chef of the famed Brasserie Les Halles in New York, trained in the furtive arts of cooking at the CIA (Culinary Institute of America), didn’t like how Waters seemed to be dictating how people should eat better, especially coming from such an elite (or as some would say, elitist) Berkeley background.
He detested that Waters was advocating that people pay a little bit more for organic, locally grown, or more sanitary ingredients or prepared food “by giving up their Nikes.”
He also didn’t like vegetarians “and their Hezbollah-like splinter faction, the vegans” very much either. Bourdain thought they stood directly opposed to what he stood for, i.e. the pure enjoyment of food. (And, yes, I have winced at how a vegetarian picks through one’s dish in meat-centric Madrid. It was a glorious restaurant, and the dishes served us one after the other were unforgettable. But lovely girl. I did appreciate how she grinned and bore it.)
Despite being able to “tell it like it is,” Bourdain could be a sweetie. He was able to endear himself to the grumpy old grandmas just for a taste of their heavenly cooking. And he never turned down any dish or food prepared no matter how exotic, unappetizing, or unhygienic it looked or was prepared.
“Grandma’s rule” is how he describes this one and only commandment in his travel shows. When one is a guest in grandma’s house, and even if you hate her turkey, say that you love it and ask for more. He emphasizes, “It’s just good manners.” (It is a principle I try to practice, albeit with much difficulty, considering how I can be thoughtless and uncaring about how other people think.)
While I tremendously appreciate his insightful words through his voice-overs and books (Kitchen Confidential, Medium Raw), what Bourdain really taught us was to experience life to the fullest! To travel, see the world, talk to people and eat their food. Commune with nature, others, and be thankful for one’s blessings (his own personal torments notwithstanding).
He loved food and how it brought people together. So cook up, share a meal and tell your guests you love them.
“If I am an advocate for anything, it is to move. As far
as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or
simply across the river. Walk in someone’s else’s shoes
or at least eat their food. It’s a plus for everybody.”
—Anthony Bourdain, (1956-2018)
Image credits: AP