"I'm not afraid to look like an idiot."
Anthony Bourdain's greatest virtue was a fearlessness in exposing his soul to the world without an ounce of vanity being worried about or spared. He opened up his talents so others could understand what he did and why he did it. All the time. Whether it was cooking or explaining the origins of a particular dish on television, Bourdain let you into his kitchen on a daily basis, all the way up until his untimely death on June 8 at the age of 61.
Being the eternal movie buff that I am, I first found out about Bourdain's ways from an adaptation of his memoir, Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly, on FOX starring Bradley Cooper. About a decade later, Cooper played a Bourdain-type chef in John Wells' Burnt. The stories were the secret ingredient in Bourdain's life. They were endless and are still being discovered.
The stories he would expunge lasted for days after his most popular show, Parts Unknown, would end, sending you off on a wild, yet inspired, goose chase through your past in order to create a meal that could salvage your day or possibly, week or month.
The greatest example of this was sitting down for a meal with former President Barack Obama in what looked like a cafeteria setting. They enjoyed a six dollar meal that didn't skip flavor or meaning, but they talked about things that will stretch its legs over the next 15-20 years. In a current climate torn by racism and hate, seeing a Caucasian male and African American sitting down and laughing over food was transcendent even if it wasn't trying to be.
That's what Bourdain wanted to do: bring people together over a meal that otherwise would feel strained, forced, or odd.
Like Bob Marley did with music, Bourdain used food as a tool to break down barriers between people. It didn't matter what color your skin was, political affiliation you kept, or how much money you happened to make. If you loved food, Bourdain wanted to talk to you and get your story. He was like a living-life-well journalist.
The basis of Parts Unknown was going into different countries and cultures in order to figure out what they ate, why they ate it, and how they came to that realization of food being important and required in their lives. There was humor, discovery, pain, and joy involved. Bourdain wanted to know all of it. A former drug addict, Bourdain had experienced every floor life's skyscraper had to offer. He spent a few days at rock bottom and had tasted the pinnacle of success as well. There wasn't a story that would scare him off.
Bourdain wasn't just able to cook; he could talk and write beautifully about the process and experience. Back in 1999, he wrote an essay "Don't Eat Before Reading This" that every young aspiring creative mind should get a hold of and read. In 2000, the Kitchen Confidential memoir turned the simple yet potent essay into a novel that holds up 18 years later. Whether it was telling you to eat fish on a Tuesday because the chef was rested or avoiding anything well done, Bourdain was showing you pearls of his livelihood without asking much in return.
He was a culinary bad boy who spoke too many languages and truths for some people to handle. He wasn't Food Network friendly because he was unable to censor the way he spoke or the manner with which he taught. Imagine Gordon Ramsay without a script or filter, and then add on kitchen rock n' roll -and you arrive at the New York native.
Bourdain was food-drunk and proud of it. The man didn't need a prepped and tactfully designed set to cook his meals; Bourdain used any given street in the world to show what he could do. The man may roll in his grave if you don't use butter on a meal or try to destroy a filet mignon without a cast iron pan, but he left the tools for you to learn how to properly cook.
Sometimes, celebrities and legendary minds are handed the keys to the kingdom. Not Anthony Bourdain. He earned every single experience he had. He was almost a nobody before he was a somebody, starting out as a journeyman chef who opened his mouth and became a legend in the way professors teach you and not publicists or agents.
The vigor and ruthless freedom, though, came at a price. Bourdain was secretly battling demons that wouldn't go away. Things that most people who consumed his talents didn't know about. The drug history can always leave open a door that leads to bad decisions and a fear that life simply isn't enough, but few thought Bourdain would wake up on June 8 and that would be his last day.
With depression and suicide, the severity of the situation is often unknown to many outside the person struggling with urges and feelings that doctors can't even stop. We will likely never know exactly what caused Bourdain to take his own life, but that's not important. What is important is treasuring what he left us: a large kitchen of material stuffed with knowledge and unique insight.
I'll be reading Kitchen Confidential again just to see where it all began and how the genius started. I may even binge some of Bourdain's television shows. Read a few articles on him. Get other angles and perspectives. The sadness that death saddles us with should be death with constant conversation and the revival of memories. Remember the man instead of wondering how or why he left.
Anthony Bourdain was born in New York City and died in France. In between start and finish, he talked to thousands of people and touched millions with his ideas, words, and train of thought. He was the chef who used every spice and herb in the kitchen to make a meal. He left no stone untouched and didn't waste a second of his life. In short, he had fun.
Do yourself a favor tonight and cook a meal for a friend in need. A friend who may just need conversation and trust on a table along with the steak or pasta instead of judgment and assumption. Start in the kitchen and end at the table. That's the only way Anthony Bourdain would like for you to pay tribute to you.
Live a little. That's what he did.
*The National Suicide Hotline is 1-800-273-8255.
