Archive for the ‘Anthony Bourdain’ Category
Higher Education
August 26th, 2010
This Monday’s “special episode” is indeed, special. Meaning, not normal, out of the ordinary. Unique, one might say. It really is unlike anything we’ve tried before–and regardless of how well it goes over with regular viewers who tune in expecting another hour of me shoving food into my face in an international location–I’m really, really proud of what we’ve done. To those who have bemoaned the disappearance of the quality “stand and stir” format, this is for you.
We’ve preserved, on tape, in one hour, some of the best and most respected chefs in the world, teaching us (and I include myself in that “us”–because I learned a lot too) the indisputably “best” way to prepare some very fundamental, everyday dishes. You may think you know how to roast a chicken, for instance. But until Thomas Keller shows you how he does it, the matter, far as I’m concerned, isn’t settled.
The making of something as simple as an omelet might seem–at first blush–an egregious under-utilization of someone with the talents, reputation and experience of Jacques Pepin. But understand this: Even in many professional kitchens, the way a new cook prepares this elementary level breakfast classic is seen as a profoundly telling insight into their skills, work habits and even their character. It’s often the first thing asked of a job applicant–a window into their soul. There are omelets–and there are omelets. And I pity the fool who wants to argue with Jacques Pepin’s method. That would be like getting drunk at a party and trying to tell Laird Hamilton how to surf.
Spaghetti in tomato sauce is something millions of Americans make all the time–and often pride themselves on. But seeing how Scott Conant makes a simple, delicious fresh tomato sauce–and as importantly–how he incorperates that sauce into his pasta– is an open door to a new world. I’ve eaten his version of this dish by the way, and you have no idea how amazing the difference between this–and any previous pasta with red sauce. . Like all the techniques demonstrated on this episode, it’s a ridiculously simple, everyday thing–something we may already think we know how to do. But do it Scott’s way? A few little things done differently? And the level of quality skyrockets.
Hamburgers, steaks, steamed lobster…a simple stew….These are things every American should be able to cook proficiently. And for those who already DO cook them proficiently, I hope, given the quality of instructors in the line-up, that watching this show helps many to raise their game. Every technique on this show was designed to be simple, approachable–to use ingredients that you actually find yourself using–and to be useful in the real world.
I want to thank the chefs who generously took part in this show, many of whom I flat out hero-worship, all of whom I respect enormously. They are, every one of them greater chefs than I ever was–or ever threatened to be. To share a stage, the same hour of television with them , is an honor I’ll always be proud of and grateful for.
I don’t know what show comes after this one? But I’m really looking forward to Hot’N’Nasty Food Freaks 2–the even more vile follow up to our Food Porn show of a while back. The food footage is so graphic, so over the top..and the quality of stuff so amazing that many minds, I assure you, will be utterly blown. I can tell you that everybody who operated a camera on the show gained like five pounds in a week, most of it on once in a lifetime goodies like..well…you’ll just have to see for yourself.
It is a thoroughly “foodie” hour…with absolutely zero socially redeeming or instructive or educational value. It appeals entirely and deliberately to prurient interest–to the voyeuristic impulses of nasty, nasty people–and it is my hope and expectation that at the end of the show, everyone who watches it will feel dirty and ashamed–(in a good way). Coming…soon.
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Looking at the Black and White World
August 13th, 2010
They said it couldn’t be done. Others, sensibly enough, asked why we would want to do it in the first place.
We were assured that ratings inevitably will plummet, and that much of our core audience will be outraged by this abominable, doomed exercise in self indulgence (and that is surely true).
But I think this is our finest hour. It’s what we were put on this earth for–to cause terror and confusion at the network, to alienate our fans who were beginning to feel comfortable with us, to try something that–as far as I can tell–has never been done: A full hour of food and travel television in black and white.
Look Back With Embarrassment
August 2nd, 2010
I’m frankly delighted to be out of the country when tonight’s WHERE IT ALL BEGAN special airs. While it’s a very good piece of film making by a very distinguished gentleman named Dmitri Kasterine (who put over a year of his life into it), I dearly wish I were not the subject. I just can’t bear looking back at that black-haired, post-crack-skinny, arrogant twerp. I’ve said elsewhere that I “had” to be arrogant to get through the day but looking at this guy (me) eleven years ago, not fifty dollars to my name, unpaid rent hanging over my head, years of back taxes and credit card debt, no real accomplishments (and plenty of wasted advantages) to my credit….and I thought, already, that I knew everything. Standing there in my restaurant, my first real book newly situated on the best seller list–and I was clueless. I had no idea–no IDEA what kind of tractor trailer was headed down the pike and straight up my ass. I see a guy standing on the precipice…and my instinct is (after slapping him a few times) to yell back at him. Warn him. But what would I tell him? And would I have listened?
100 Is Not Enough
July 31st, 2010
The Original (Goodbye Splendor)
July 13th, 2010
A few days ago, the city of Cleveland lost a truly great and important man. And I’m not talking about LeBron James. A hundred years from now, few–other than a few sports nerds–will remember him as much more than statistics on a long ago basketball court.
They will, however, remember Harvey Pekar, whose life and works will surely remain an enduring reference point of late 20th and early 21st century cultural history. Like those other giants of their eras, Twain, Whitman, Dos Passos, Kerouac, Kesey, the times he lived in cannot adequately be remembered without him.
In it, to Win it!
July 9th, 2010
In other news, over at http://bourdainmediumraw.com, we’re running a contest associated with my latest book. The best 500 word essay gets published in a future paperback edition of MEDIUM RAW.
My publisher and I thought this was a pretty good prize for a previously unpublished writer of a short essay. But it has been widely suggested that this was in fact a cruel, cynical and exploitative exercise in “crowd-sourcing”. That instead of writing a few new paragraphs myself, we decided that this was somehow an easier, more cost-effective strategy for providing “content”–ripping off eager aspiring writers.
Your Pretty Face Goin’ Straight to Hell
July 9th, 2010
As is all too apparent, I’m getting old fast. An upcoming special–shot independently in 1999, illustrates (painfully) how old and how fast: I look–only 11 years ago–as someone who could pass for my own son. But the latest edition of Cigar Afficionado has just saved me from any delusional moves towards convertible coupes, lift and tuck or Just For Men.
I’m walking through an airport and passing a Hudson News and from a hundred feet away, I see something…strikingly…unreal against the back wall. It’s an image that sticks out a mile from all the other magazines. A big, doughy, lumpy, unnaturally black and tan image—-like a cartoon, gaping out at me.
GRACIAS!
July 3rd, 2010
I’m done.
My mad run cross country, held up by copious amounts of Afrin, Sudafed, throat spray, asperin, Woodford Reserve, Red Bull and beer is over. I’d gripe about grim hotel bathrooms and sleeping on airport floors but instead want to thank all the people who had it a lot worse than me–who cheerfully drove for hours, stood out in the heat and sun, lined up in sweaty theater lobbies, got stacked into bookstores with struggling air conditioning, were herded into lines–and then flung in the general direction of yours truly –all for a blurry photo and a hurried signature.
I hope I spelled your name right.
I hope that in my exhausted, post-gig, flash-addled and punch-drunk fugue state, I managed a smile–that I looked you in the eyes, that I said something remotely engaging–something grateful. If you feel like you ponied up, stood around for hours–and were then processed through the production line like a bad sandwich, I’m truly sorry. I did my best.
I remember a lot of your stories–some of them quite remarkable, some incredibly painful, coincidental, tragic, inspiring–and all conveyed in seconds. Thank you.
For the liquor, the T-shirts, the CD’s, pastries, books, the well-timed beers, the chocolates, the homemade preserves, and even the crazy-ass stuff that scared me a little. For buying a whole helluva lot of books. You know who you are.
New episodes start…Monday. The kick-off episode in the Grenadines is something I’ve written about before. Envisioned as a reward for a whole bunch of cold climate shows, it morphed into something…else. It’s an unusual looking show (which makes me happy) and the debut of some new equipment (the Canon 7D still camera), which on video mode, allowed our shooters to do a lot of very wacky, really great-looking stuff that we wouldn’t have been able to do only a few weeks earlier.
Truthfully, it’s often something as simple as a new piece of equipment–the fact that you can shoot awesome, film-quality video footage on a small camera that looks like–well…every other still camera–that inspires me to go forward (I have no affiliation with Canon, I should point out. And neither I, nor anyone I know has recieved anything of value or any consideration at all from them. I just really like what this thing allows us to do). The possibilities of new technology. If we can make a show this weird looking and sounding in the Caribbean–what can we do elsewhere? It’s worth finding out.
Our mantra:
Whatever “worked” last week–whatever it was you liked (or didn’t like)?
Let’s try something else.
Also:
If it causes fear and confusion when they see it at the network? It’s a good day at the office.
I Hate My Shirt
June 10th, 2010
And my jacket, too. Also, I hate my boots, the well worn, floppy ones sitting there forlornly in the corner, the socks, the toilet kit and pretty much everything else.
I’m loading into my suitcase for an insanely packed bounce across America. It’s only two days after my latest book, MEDIUM RAW, was released and already, my pupils float unseeing in my skull, my head is full of mush. I’ve been interviewed about 60 times in the last few days and every time I answer the same question in the same way, I hate myself nearly as much as I hate the contents of my suitcase — whose only crimes are overfamiliarity.
Slipping on my shirt, the boots, packing and repacking over the next few days will, I know, soon come to feel like putting on an old, previously worn jester suit at some rennaissance fair of the Damned. Green Bay, Tulsa, Pittsburgh, Los Angeles, Salt Lake City, Portland, Seattle, Chicago, Cincinatti, Austin, Miami … Reeling off the names, it sounds like a James Brown song, “Night Train” — which I will no doubt be humming to myself during many pre-dawn drives to airports.
Zamboni Time
April 11th, 2010
I get a perverse and evil satisfaction out of putting members of my crew on camera at every opportunity. Their discomfort–particularly once the “vampire clip” microphone is attached to the inside of their shirt (and they have to remember that every trip to the bathroom might provide considerable amusement to the guy wearing the headphones in the other room) — is exquisite. The shoe on the other foot as they say…Those used to heedlessly pointing the cameras at others are suddenly caught under its merciless and unwavering gaze. Every pimple, bad pant decision, errant hair, ill advised comment potentially the subject of timeless Comedy Gold. Read the rest of this entry »