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Skydive s Anthonym Bourdainom

Skydive s Anthonym Bourdainom


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Alebo sa vyberte na splav na divokej vode so Spike Mendelsohnom

Ak máte k dispozícii 10 000 dolárov, máte šancu vyraziť s parašutistom s dobrodružným jedákom Anthonym Bourdainom.

Gilt City New York ponúka jednu šancu na „zážitok z tandemového zoskoku"a hamburgery a pivo s Bourdainom ako súčasť finančnej zbierky pre Food Bank For New York City. Kupujúci dostane lekciu Above Poconos Skydivers, skok a večeru, všetko za 10 000 dolárov (čo je sotva porovnateľné s Cenovka 224 dolárov na mieste parašutizmu).

Ak je to príliš drahé, existuje aj dátum korčuľovania s Anne Burrell (1 000 dolárov), a výlet na divokej vode so Spikeom Mendelsohnom (2 000 dolárov) a ďalšími vecami, ktoré nie sú také úžasné, ako keby ste sa vrhli na Bourdain. Ale nepovedali by sme sedadlu na Šéfkuchársky stôl SD26.

Daily Byte je pravidelný stĺpček venovaný zaujímavým potravinovým novinkám a trendom v celej krajine. Kliknutím sem zobrazíte predchádzajúce stĺpce.


Aké to bolo jesť s Anthonym Bourdainom

Tony by vás neodsúdil, že ste si v hotelovej posteli dali hamburger.

Príležitostne sa ma pýtajú: „Aké bolo jesť a cestovať s Tonym Bourdainom?“

Ako jeho asistent a spoluautor som navštívil rôzne filmové súpravy Tonyho a apossa po celom svete, ale iba raz som s ním jedol na kameru, a to v Aqueduct Racetrack, Queens, New York, kde žijem. Kým sme sledovali kone, popíjali sme ničím nerušené domáce pivo z kývavých plastových pohárov a jedli sme rovnaké pikantné, pikantné, takmer určite sériovo vyrábané, mrazené a mikrovlnné alebo vyprážané jamajské hovädzie karbonátky, ktoré nájdete v každom obchode s potravinami alebo v Novom Verejná školská jedáleň v York City. Je zrejmé, že nezabudnuteľné jedlo nebolo najdôležitejším bodom scény, ale naozaj sme si užili tie hovädzie karbonátky, ktoré boli nakoniec zapamätateľné ako správna vec v tomto kontexte: slaný, ostrý a napriek tomu mäkký chlastový vankúš jedený jednou rukou, zatiaľ čo druhou plieska zrolovanou závodnou formou o koľajnicu.  

Samozrejme, niekedy bolo jedlo a cestovanie s Tonym presne také dekadentné, ako by ste mohli očakávať. Keď sme v San Franciscu, aby sme propagovali našu kuchársku knihu, Chuť do jedla, poslal ma na extrémne šikovný zberač jedla na krab Dungeness, plus kaviár, kyslú smotanu, červenú cibuľu, slané zemiakové lupienky a chladené šampanské, ktoré sa budú podávať nasledujúcu noc nášmu malému doprovodu, keď sme odlietali súkromným lietadlom Denver, konečná zastávka prehliadky knihy. Vyslovene žiadal dokonalosť. & quot; Spýtajte sa, & quot; povedal & & quot; by Jeremiah Tower schválila? & quot  

Vo Vietname som sa za ním viezol na skútri a jemne sa naklonil do zákrut, keď prechádzal po uliciach a uliciach centra mesta Hu ế, medzi tichým luxusným starým koloniálnym hotelom a živým preplneným trhom Dong Ba. Boli sme tam pre misku B ún b ò Hu ế, uvarenú ženou menom Kim Chau, ktorá to robila na rovnakom mieste, rovnakým spôsobom, už desaťročia.

Tony vo svojom komentári k televíznej relácii nazval B ún b ò Hu ế & kvóta zázrak divy chuti a textúry, najväčšia polievka na svete. Bujón „Chau & aposs“ bol mäsitý, korenistý, hlboko funky a príjemný, v ktorom panovalo jemné mäso. hovädzia stopka, krabie knedle, ryžové rezance, nastrúhané banánové kvety, ohnivá chilli omáčka a jeden bohatý, vratký obdĺžnik z hustej želatinizovanej ošípanej a apossovej krvi. Schúlil som sa mimo dohľadu s režisérom a producentom, zatiaľ čo Tony šúľal polievku na kameru. Akonáhle bola scéna zabalená, objednal mi misku a ja som ju zjedol, posadený na stoličke, vytiahol k otlčenému hliníkovému pultu, pričom som nakupoval a predával zeleninu a oblečenie, jedlá a koreniny, ryby, mäso a kadidlo a kvety sa nesú všade okolo nás.  

O Tonymu pretrváva mýtus, že kedykoľvek bol hladný#x2014 a v tomto mýte bol vždy hladný-bez problémov by našiel to najlepšie, najčestnejšie a najautentickejšie & najintenzívnejšie jedlo, ktoré najviac hľadá pozornosť, kdekoľvek bol. vo svete.  

Ako každý mýtus, aj toto je založené na pravde. Ten muž miloval svoj pho a hotpot a dokonalé sushi a každú časť každého ošípaného a rád túto lásku zdieľal. A kvôli niektorým nezmazateľným statočnostiam z jeho prvých televíznych epizód sa Tony stal známym ako chlapík s durianskými a tuleňovými očnými buľvami a konečníkom bradavice na tanieri. Tieto druhy extrémov robia z dobrej a nezabudnuteľnej televízie. Koniec koncov, najmä keď začínate najskôr v médiu, nemáte čo stratiť a čo môžete získať, keď sa stanete známym ako chlapík, ktorý zjedol bijúce srdce kobry.

To, čo možno zostalo bez povšimnutia, bola jeho schopnosť tešiť sa z najjednoduchších vecí v nenatočenom okamihu, najmä vzhľadom na to, koľko sveta videl a ochutnal. Napríklad keď sme v Japonsku, Tony a ja sme vzali Shinkansena z Kanazawy do Tokia, zatiaľ čo posádka (a ich desiatky prípadov kamerového vybavenia) podnikli cestu dodávkou.  

Keď sme eskalátorom stúpali na plošinu, Tony o niekoľko metrov ďalej zbadal typický, ale jedinečne japonský automat, zásobený desiatkami odrôd teplých a studených kávových nápojov v plechovke. Vyrazil k nemu, jednou rukou si potiahol kufor a druhou kopal mince vo vrecku bundy. V tejto chvíli bol taký pohltený svojou túžbou po novinke konzervovanej kávy, z nejakého dôvodu ozdobenej tvárou Tommyho Lee Jonesa a zahriaty na objednávku strojom, že blažene nevedel o tom, ako mu papierový lístok na vlak vlaje vrecko na podlahu platformy, tancujúce chorobne blízko okraja koľají v skorom jarnom vánku.  

Oplatilo by sa nechať si ujsť vlak do Tokia a užiť si novinku úprimne plechového, črevného nápoja? Našťastie sme obaja boli rýchli na nohách —him k stroju, ja k naháňaniu lietajúceho lístka — a nemuseli sme to zistiť.

Podelil som sa tu o viac peších zážitkov z hovädzích karbonátok a konzervovanej kávy, spolu s miskami rezancov na vietnamskom trhu a kaviárom v súkromnom lietadle pre tých, ktorí by na cestách mohli nechať preniesť túto mýticky dobrodružnú a nenásytnú verziu Tonyho Bourdaina žijú v ich hlavách, ako hovoria deti, bez prenájmu. Viem, že som tam bol —, pretože som strávil veľa času a peňazí, aby som sa dostal niekam ďaleko, a vo chvíľach, keď som bol príliš hladný alebo unavený alebo ohromený na to, aby som hľadal & quot; vec, & quot; aposve sa hanbil za svoju vlastnú sklamanú túžbu zjesť vrecko lupienkov v posteli. Čo by si myslel Tony?  

Potom si spomeniem, že nie som v televízii, nikoho nezaujíma, čo jem v súkromnej chvíli, a že sa možno po šlofíku cítim pripravený na dobrodružstvo. A pamätám si vrchol cesty s Tonym na Srí Lanke.    

Boli sme v aute v Jaffne v severnej časti ostrovného štátu, práve sme zabalili dlhý a horúci výstrel na festivale Madai, ktorý by pokračoval dlho do noci.    

„Tu naokolo,“ povedal Tony hlasom, „festival Madai je pre hinduistov najpriaznivejším dňom v roku na vyrovnanie ich duchovných dlhov. Veriaci prejavujú oddanosť utrpením, ktoré znášajú veľké bolesti a ťažkosti nazývané Kavadis alebo dlhy z bremena. & Quot

Mladí muži boli zavesení na hákoch cez svoje telo, zavesení na žeriavoch ozdobených ovocím a kvetmi, a mladé ženy kráčajúce po topánkach s klincami zatĺkanými do vložiek, zatiaľ čo iné hrali na bicie nástroje, skandovali a tancovali v stave silnej náboženskej extázy. Cez okno auta som sledoval hrať posvätnú podívanú a#x2014 a obzrel som sa, aby som videl Tonyho s tvárou zaborenou hlboko v telefóne. Pokúšal sa zistiť, či je v pešej vzdialenosti od hotela KFC. Nebolo k dispozícii oveľa viac ako niekoľko hrstí varenej ryže počas dlhých hodín nastavovania a natáčania B-rolky pred začiatkom sprievodu a on vedel, že jeho posádka je horúca, hladná a veľmi ďaleko od domova.

V KFC som čakal medzi skupinami miestnych obyvateľov, aby si objednali niekoľko vedier, a hore na streche hotela a apossu sme spojili niekoľko stolov a stoličiek, zjedli sme rezolútne kura a sušienky zo západného rýchleho občerstvenia a počúvali veselé príbehy Tonyho a členov posádky z cesty. Vyzeral uvoľnene, šťastne a rád, že kŕmi a zabáva svojich priateľov. Aj toto bolo to, čo sme jedli a cestovali s Tonym.

Predobjednať Cestovanie svetom: Neuveriteľný sprievodca Anthony Bourdain a Laurie Woolever (ECCO, 20. apríla 2021)


Aké to bolo jesť s Anthonym Bourdainom

Tony by vás neodsúdil, že ste si v hotelovej posteli dali hamburger.

Príležitostne sa ma pýtajú: „Aké bolo jesť a cestovať s Tonym Bourdainom?“

Ako jeho asistent a spoluautor som navštívil rôzne filmové súpravy Tonyho a apossa po celom svete, ale iba raz som s ním jedol na kameru, a to v Aqueduct Racetrack v Queens v New Yorku, kde žijem. Kým sme sledovali kone, popíjali sme ničím nerušené domáce pivo z kývavých plastových pohárov a jedli sme rovnaké pikantné, pikantné, takmer určite sériovo vyrábané, mrazené a mikrovlnné alebo vyprážané jamajské hovädzie karbonátky, ktoré nájdete v každom obchode s potravinami alebo v Novom Verejná školská jedáleň v York City. Je zrejmé, že nezabudnuteľné jedlo nebolo najdôležitejším bodom scény, ale naozaj sme si užili tie hovädzie karbonátky, ktoré boli nakoniec zapamätateľné ako správna vec v tomto kontexte: slaný, ostrý a napriek tomu mäkký chlastový vankúš jedený jednou rukou, zatiaľ čo druhou plieska zrolovanou závodnou formou o koľajnicu.  

Samozrejme, niekedy bolo jedlo a cestovanie s Tonym presne také dekadentné, ako by ste mohli očakávať. Keď sme v San Franciscu, aby sme propagovali našu kuchársku knihu, Chuť do jedla, poslal ma na extrémne šikovný zberač jedla na krab Dungeness, plus kaviár, kyslú smotanu, červenú cibuľu, slané zemiakové lupienky a chladené šampanské, ktoré sa budú podávať nasledujúcu noc nášmu malému doprovodu, keď sme odlietali súkromným lietadlom Denver, konečná zastávka prehliadky knihy. Vyslovene žiadal dokonalosť. & quot; Spýtajte sa, & quot; povedal & & quot; by Jeremiah Tower schválila? & quot  

Vo Vietname som sa za ním viezol na skútri a jemne sa naklonil do zákrut, keď prechádzal po uliciach a uliciach centra mesta Hu ế, medzi tichým luxusným starým koloniálnym hotelom a živým preplneným trhom Dong Ba. Boli sme tam pre misku B ún b ò Hu ế, varenú ženou menom Kim Chau, ktorá to robila na rovnakom mieste, rovnakým spôsobom, už desaťročia.

Tony vo svojom komentári k televíznej relácii nazval B ún b ò Hu ế & kvóta zázrak divy chuti a textúry, najväčšia polievka na svete. Bujón „Chau & aposs“ bol mäsitý, korenistý, hlboko funky a príjemný, v ktorom panovalo jemné mäso. hovädzia stopka, krabie knedle, ryžové rezance, nastrúhané banánové kvety, ohnivá chilli omáčka a jeden bohatý, vratký obdĺžnik hustej a bravčovej krvi z apos. Chúlil som sa mimo dohľadu s režisérom a producentom, zatiaľ čo Tony šúľal polievku na kameru. Akonáhle bola scéna zabalená, objednal mi misku a ja som ju zjedol, posadenú na stoličke, vytiahol k otlčenému hliníkovému pultu, pričom som nakupoval a predával zeleninu a oblečenie, jedlá a koreniny, ryby, mäso a kadidlo a kvety sa nesú všade okolo nás.  

O Tonyovi pretrváva mýtus, že kedykoľvek bol hladný#x2014 a v tomto mýte bol vždy hladný-bez problémov by našiel to najlepšie, najčestnejšie a najautentickejšie & najintenzívnejšie jedlo, ktoré najviac hľadá pozornosť, kdekoľvek bol. vo svete.  

Ako každý mýtus, aj toto je založené na pravde. Ten človek miloval svoj pho a hotpot a dokonalé sushi a každú časť každého ošípaného a rád túto lásku zdieľal. A kvôli niektorým nezmazateľným statočnostiam z jeho prvých televíznych epizód sa Tony stal známym ako chlapík s durianskými a tuleňovými očnými buľvami a konečníkom bradavice na tanieri. Tieto druhy extrémov robia z dobrej a nezabudnuteľnej televízie. Koniec koncov, najmä keď začínate najskôr v médiu, nemáte čo stratiť a čo môžete získať, keď sa stanete známym ako chlapík, ktorý zjedol bijúce srdce kobry.

To, čo možno zostalo bez povšimnutia, bola jeho schopnosť tešiť sa z najjednoduchších vecí v nenatočenom okamihu, najmä vzhľadom na to, koľko sveta videl a ochutnal. Napríklad keď sme v Japonsku, Tony a ja sme vzali Shinkansena z Kanazawy do Tokia, zatiaľ čo posádka (a ich desiatky prípadov kamerového vybavenia) podnikli cestu dodávkou.  

Keď sme eskalátorom stúpali na plošinu, Tony za pár metrov zbadal typický, ale jedinečne japonský automat, zásobený desiatkami odrôd teplých a studených kávových nápojov v plechovke. Vyrazil k nemu, jednou rukou si potiahol kufor a druhou kopal mince vo vrecku bundy. V tejto chvíli bol taký pohltený svojou túžbou po novinke konzervovanej kávy, z nejakého dôvodu ozdobenej tvárou Tommyho Lee Jonesa a zahriaty na objednávku strojom, že blažene nevedel o tom, ako mu papierový lístok na vlak vlaje vrecko na podlahu platformy, tancujúce chorobne blízko okraja koľají v skorom jarnom vánku.  

Oplatilo by sa nechať si ujsť vlak do Tokia a užiť si novinku úprimne plechového, črevného nápoja? Našťastie sme obaja boli rýchli na nohách —him k stroju, ja aby som naháňal letenku — a nemuseli sme to zistiť.

Podelil som sa tu o viac peších zážitkov z hovädzích karbonátok a konzervovanej kávy, spolu s miskami rezancov na vietnamskom trhu a kaviárom v súkromnom lietadle pre tých, ktorí by na cestách mohli nechať preniesť túto mýticky dobrodružnú a nenásytnú verziu Tonyho Bourdaina žijú v ich hlavách, ako hovoria deti, bez prenájmu. Viem, že som tam bol a strávil som veľa času a peňazí na to, aby som sa dostal niekam ďaleko, a vo chvíľach, keď som bol príliš hladný alebo unavený alebo ohromený na to, aby som hľadal „tú vec“, „ja“ som sa hanbil za svoju vlastnú sklamanú túžbu zjesť vrecko lupienkov v posteli. Čo by si myslel Tony?  

Potom si spomeniem, že nie som v televízii, nikoho nezaujíma, čo jem v súkromnej chvíli, a že sa možno po šlofíku cítim pripravený na dobrodružstvo. A pamätám si vrchol cesty s Tonym na Srí Lanke.    

Boli sme v aute v Jaffne v severnej časti ostrovného štátu, práve sme zabalili dlhý a horúci výstrel na festivale Madai, ktorý by pokračoval dlho do noci.    

„Tu naokolo,“ povedal Tony hlasom, „festival Madai je pre hinduistov najpriaznivejším dňom v roku na vyrovnanie ich duchovných dlhov. Veriaci prejavujú oddanosť utrpením, ktoré znášajú veľké bolesti a ťažkosti nazývané Kavadis alebo dlhy z bremena. & Quot

Mladí muži boli zavesení na hákoch cez svoje telo, zavesení na žeriavoch ozdobených ovocím a kvetmi, a mladé ženy kráčajúce po topánkach s klincami zatĺkanými do vložiek, zatiaľ čo iné hrali na bicie nástroje, skandovali a tancovali v stave silnej náboženskej extázy. Cez okno auta som sledoval hrať posvätnú podívanú a#x2014 a obzrel som sa, aby som videl Tonyho s tvárou zaborenou hlboko v telefóne. Pokúšal sa zistiť, či je v pešej vzdialenosti od hotela KFC. Nebolo k dispozícii oveľa viac ako niekoľko hrstí varenej ryže počas dlhých hodín nastavovania a natáčania B-rolky pred začiatkom sprievodu a on vedel, že jeho posádka je horúca, hladná a veľmi ďaleko od domova.

V KFC som čakal medzi skupinami miestnych obyvateľov, aby si objednali niekoľko vedier, a hore na streche hotela a apossu sme spojili niekoľko stolov a stoličiek, zjedli sme rezolútne kura a sušienky zo západného rýchleho občerstvenia a počúvali veselé príbehy Tonyho a členov posádky z cesty. Vyzeral uvoľnene, šťastne a rád, že kŕmi a zabáva svojich priateľov. Aj toto bolo to, čo sme jedli a cestovali s Tonym.

Predobjednať Cestovanie svetom: Neuveriteľný sprievodca Anthony Bourdain a Laurie Woolever (ECCO, 20. apríla 2021)


Aké to bolo jesť s Anthonym Bourdainom

Tony by vás neodsúdil, že ste si v hotelovej posteli dali hamburger.

Príležitostne sa ma pýtajú: „Aké bolo jesť a cestovať s Tonym Bourdainom?“

Ako jeho asistent a spoluautor som navštívil rôzne filmové súpravy Tonyho a apossa po celom svete, ale iba raz som s ním jedol na kameru, a to v Aqueduct Racetrack v Queens v New Yorku, kde žijem. Kým sme sledovali kone, popíjali sme ničím výnimočné domáce pivo z kymácajúcich plastových pohárov a jedli sme to isté pikantné, pikantné, takmer určite sériovo vyrábané, mrazené a mikrovlnné alebo vyprážané jamajské hovädzie karbonátky, ktoré nájdete v každom obchode s potravinami alebo v Novom Verejná školská jedáleň v York City. Je zrejmé, že nezabudnuteľné jedlo nebolo najdôležitejším bodom scény, ale naozaj sme si užili tie hovädzie karbonátky, ktoré boli nakoniec zapamätateľné ako správna vec v tomto kontexte: slaný, ostrý a napriek tomu mäkký chlastový vankúš jedený jednou rukou, zatiaľ čo druhou plieska zrolovanou závodnou formou o koľajnicu.  

Samozrejme, niekedy bolo jedlo a cestovanie s Tonym presne také dekadentné, ako by ste mohli očakávať. Keď sme v San Franciscu, aby sme propagovali našu kuchársku knihu, Chuť do jedla, poslal ma na extrémne šikovný zberač jedla na krab Dungeness, plus kaviár, kyslú smotanu, červenú cibuľu, slané zemiakové lupienky a chladené šampanské, ktoré sa budú podávať nasledujúcu noc nášmu malému doprovodu, keď sme odlietali súkromným lietadlom Denver, konečná zastávka prehliadky knihy. Vyslovene žiadal dokonalosť. & quot; Spýtajte sa, & quot; povedal & & quot; by Jeremiah Tower schválila? & quot  

Vo Vietname som sa za ním viezol na skútri a jemne sa naklonil do zákrut, keď prechádzal po uliciach a uliciach centra mesta Hu ế, medzi tichým luxusným starým koloniálnym hotelom a živým preplneným trhom Dong Ba. Boli sme tam pre misku B ún b ò Hu ế, uvarenú ženou menom Kim Chau, ktorá to robila na rovnakom mieste, rovnakým spôsobom, už desaťročia.

Tony vo svojom komentári k televíznej relácii nazval B ún b ò Hu ế & kvóta zázrak divy chuti a textúry, najväčšia polievka na svete. Bujón „Chau & aposs“ bol mäsitý, korenistý, hlboko funky a príjemný, v ktorom panovalo jemné mäso. hovädzia stopka, krabie knedle, ryžové rezance, nastrúhané banánové kvety, ohnivá chilli omáčka a jeden bohatý, vratký obdĺžnik z hustej želatinizovanej ošípanej a apossovej krvi. Schúlil som sa mimo dohľadu s režisérom a producentom, zatiaľ čo Tony šúľal polievku na kameru. Akonáhle bola scéna zabalená, objednal mi misku a ja som ju zjedol, posadenú na stoličke, vytiahol k otlčenému hliníkovému pultu, pričom som nakupoval a predával zeleninu a oblečenie, jedlá a koreniny, ryby, mäso a kadidlo a kvety sa nesú všade okolo nás.  

O Tonymu pretrváva mýtus, že kedykoľvek bol hladný#x2014 a v tomto mýte bol vždy hladný-bez problémov by našiel to najlepšie, najčestnejšie a najautentickejšie & najintenzívnejšie jedlo, ktoré najviac hľadá pozornosť, kdekoľvek bol. vo svete.  

Ako každý mýtus, aj toto je založené na pravde. Ten muž miloval svoj pho a hotpot a dokonalé sushi a každú časť každého ošípaného a rád túto lásku zdieľal. A kvôli niektorým nezmazateľným statočnostiam z jeho prvých televíznych epizód sa Tony stal známym ako chlapík s durianskými a tuleňovými očnými buľvami a konečníkom bradavice na tanieri. Tieto druhy extrémov robia z dobrej a nezabudnuteľnej televízie. Koniec koncov, najmä keď začínate najskôr v médiu, nemáte čo stratiť a čo môžete získať, keď sa stanete známym ako chlapík, ktorý zjedol bijúce srdce kobry.

To, čo možno zostalo bez povšimnutia, bola jeho schopnosť tešiť sa z najjednoduchších vecí v nenatočenom okamihu, najmä vzhľadom na to, koľko sveta videl a ochutnal. Napríklad v Japonsku sme s Tonym zobrali Shinkansena z Kanazawy do Tokia, zatiaľ čo posádka (a ich desiatky prípadov kamerového vybavenia) absolvovali cestu dodávkou.  

Keď sme eskalátorom stúpali na plošinu, Tony o niekoľko metrov ďalej zbadal typický, ale jedinečne japonský automat, zásobený desiatkami odrôd teplých a studených kávových nápojov v plechovke. Vyrazil k nemu, jednou rukou si potiahol kufor a druhou kopal mince vo vrecku bundy. V tejto chvíli bol taký pohltený svojou túžbou po novinke konzervovanej kávy, z nejakého dôvodu ozdobenej tvárou Tommyho Lee Jonesa a zahriaty na objednávku strojom, že blažene nevedel o tom, ako mu papierový lístok na vlak vlaje vrecko na podlahu platformy, tancujúce chorobne blízko okraja koľají v skorom jarnom vánku.  

Oplatilo by sa nechať si ujsť vlak do Tokia a užiť si novinku úprimne plechového, črevného nápoja? Našťastie sme obaja boli rýchli na nohách —him k stroju, ja k naháňaniu lietajúceho lístka — a nemuseli sme to zistiť.

Podelil som sa tu o viac peších zážitkov z hovädzích karbonátok a konzervovanej kávy, spolu s miskami rezancov na vietnamskom trhu a kaviárom v súkromnom lietadle pre tých, ktorí by na cestách mohli nechať preniesť túto mýticky dobrodružnú a nenásytnú verziu Tonyho Bourdaina žijú v ich hlavách, ako hovoria deti, bez prenájmu. Viem, že som tam bol a strávil som veľa času a peňazí na to, aby som sa dostal niekam ďaleko, a vo chvíľach, keď som bol príliš hladný alebo unavený alebo ohromený na to, aby som hľadal „tú vec“, „ja“ som sa hanbil za svoju vlastnú sklamanú túžbu zjesť vrecko lupienkov v posteli. Čo by si myslel Tony?  

Potom si spomeniem, že nie som v televízii, nikoho nezaujíma, čo jem v súkromnej chvíli, a že sa možno po šlofíku cítim pripravený na dobrodružstvo. A pamätám si vrchol cesty s Tonym na Srí Lanke.    

Boli sme v aute v Jaffne v severnej časti ostrovného štátu, práve sme zabalili dlhý a horúci výstrel na festivale Madai, ktorý by pokračoval dlho do noci.    

„Tu naokolo,“ povedal Tony hlasom, „festival Madai je pre hinduistov najpriaznivejším dňom v roku na vyrovnanie ich duchovných dlhov. Veriaci prejavujú oddanosť utrpením, ktoré znášajú veľké bolesti a ťažkosti nazývané Kavadis alebo dlhy z bremena. & Quot

Mladí muži boli zavesení na hákoch cez svoje telo, zavesení na žeriavoch ozdobených ovocím a kvetmi, a mladé ženy kráčajúce po topánkach s klincami zatĺkanými do vložiek, zatiaľ čo iné hrali na bicie nástroje, skandovali a tancovali v stave silnej náboženskej extázy. Cez okno auta som sledoval hrať posvätnú podívanú a#x2014 a obzrel som sa, aby som videl Tonyho s tvárou zaborenou hlboko v telefóne. Pokúšal sa zistiť, či je v pešej vzdialenosti od hotela KFC. Nebolo k dispozícii oveľa viac ako niekoľko hrstí varenej ryže počas dlhých hodín nastavovania a natáčania B-rolky pred začiatkom sprievodu a on vedel, že jeho posádka je horúca, hladná a veľmi ďaleko od domova.

V KFC som čakal medzi skupinami miestnych obyvateľov, aby si objednali niekoľko vedier, a hore na streche hotela a apossu sme spojili niekoľko stolov a stoličiek, zjedli sme rezolútne kura a sušienky zo západného rýchleho občerstvenia a počúvali veselé príbehy Tonyho a členov posádky z cesty. Vyzeral uvoľnene, šťastne a rád, že kŕmi a zabáva svojich priateľov. Aj toto bolo to, čo sme jedli a cestovali s Tonym.

Predobjednať Cestovanie svetom: Neuveriteľný sprievodca Anthony Bourdain a Laurie Woolever (ECCO, 20. apríla 2021)


Aké to bolo jesť s Anthonym Bourdainom

Tony by vás neodsúdil, že ste si v hotelovej posteli dali hamburger.

Príležitostne sa ma pýtajú: „Aké bolo jesť a cestovať s Tonym Bourdainom?“

Ako jeho asistent a spoluautor som navštívil rôzne filmové súpravy Tonyho a apossa po celom svete, ale iba raz som s ním jedol na kameru, a to v Aqueduct Racetrack v Queens v New Yorku, kde žijem. Kým sme sledovali kone, popíjali sme ničím nerušené domáce pivo z kývavých plastových pohárov a jedli sme rovnaké pikantné, pikantné, takmer určite sériovo vyrábané, mrazené a mikrovlnné alebo vyprážané jamajské hovädzie karbonátky, ktoré nájdete v každom obchode s potravinami alebo v Novom Verejná školská jedáleň v York City. Je zrejmé, že nezabudnuteľné jedlo nebolo najdôležitejším bodom scény, ale naozaj sme si užili tie hovädzie karbonátky, ktoré boli nakoniec zapamätateľné ako správna vec v tomto kontexte: slaný, ostrý a napriek tomu mäkký chlastový vankúš jedený jednou rukou, zatiaľ čo druhou plieska zrolovanou závodnou formou o koľajnicu.  

Samozrejme, niekedy bolo jedlo a cestovanie s Tonym presne také dekadentné, ako by ste mohli očakávať. Keď sme v San Franciscu, aby sme propagovali našu kuchársku knihu, Chuť do jedla, poslal ma na extrémne šikovný zberač jedla na krab Dungeness, plus kaviár, kyslú smotanu, červenú cibuľu, slané zemiakové lupienky a chladené šampanské, ktoré sa budú podávať nasledujúcu noc nášmu malému doprovodu, keď sme odlietali súkromným lietadlom Denver, konečná zastávka prehliadky knihy. Vyslovene žiadal dokonalosť. & quot; Spýtajte sa, & quot; povedal & & quot; by Jeremiah Tower schválila? & quot  

Vo Vietname som sa za ním viezol na skútri a jemne sa naklonil do zákrut, keď prechádzal po uliciach a uliciach centra mesta Hu ế, medzi tichým luxusným starým koloniálnym hotelom a živým preplneným trhom Dong Ba. Boli sme tam pre misku B ún b ò Hu ế, uvarenú ženou menom Kim Chau, ktorá to robila na rovnakom mieste, rovnakým spôsobom, už desaťročia.

Tony vo svojom komentári k televíznej relácii nazval B ún b ò Hu ế & quota zázrak chuti a textúry, najväčšiu polievku na svete. Bujón „Chau & aposs“ bol mäsitý, korenistý, hlboko funky a príjemný, v ktorom sa prejavila jemnosť. hovädzia stopka, krabie knedle, ryžové rezance, nastrúhané banánové kvety, ohnivá chilli omáčka a jeden bohatý, vratký obdĺžnik z hustej želatinizovanej ošípanej a apossovej krvi. Schúlil som sa mimo dohľadu s režisérom a producentom, zatiaľ čo Tony šúľal polievku na kameru. Akonáhle bola scéna zabalená, objednal mi misku a ja som ju zjedol, posadenú na stoličke, vytiahol k otlčenému hliníkovému pultu, pričom som nakupoval a predával zeleninu a oblečenie, jedlá a koreniny, ryby, mäso a kadidlo a kvety sa nesú všade okolo nás.  

O Tonyovi pretrváva mýtus, že kedykoľvek bol hladný#x2014 a v tomto mýte bol vždy hladný-bez problémov by našiel to najlepšie, najčestnejšie a najautentickejšie & najintenzívnejšie jedlo, ktoré najviac hľadá pozornosť, kdekoľvek bol. vo svete.  

Ako každý mýtus, aj toto je založené na pravde. Ten človek miloval svoj pho a hotpot a dokonalé sushi a každú časť každého ošípaného a rád túto lásku zdieľal. A vďaka niektorým nezmazateľným statočnostiam z jeho prvých televíznych epizód sa Tony stal známym ako chlapík s durianskými a tuleňovými očnými buľvami a konečníkom bradavice na tanieri. Tieto druhy extrémov robia z dobrej a nezabudnuteľnej televízie. Koniec koncov, najmä keď začínate najskôr v médiu, nemáte čo stratiť a čo môžete získať, keď sa stanete známym ako chlapík, ktorý zjedol bijúce srdce kobry.

To, čo možno zostalo bez povšimnutia, bola jeho schopnosť tešiť sa z najjednoduchších vecí v nenatočenom okamihu, najmä vzhľadom na to, koľko sveta videl a ochutnal. Napríklad keď sme v Japonsku, Tony a ja sme vzali Shinkansena z Kanazawy do Tokia, zatiaľ čo posádka (a ich desiatky prípadov kamerového vybavenia) podnikli cestu dodávkou.  

Keď sme eskalátorom stúpali na plošinu, Tony o niekoľko metrov ďalej zbadal typický, ale jedinečne japonský automat, zásobený desiatkami odrôd teplých a studených kávových nápojov v plechovke. Vyrazil k nemu, jednou rukou si potiahol kufor a druhou kopal mince vo vrecku bundy. V tejto chvíli bol taký pohltený svojou túžbou po novinke konzervovanej kávy, z nejakého dôvodu ozdobenej tvárou Tommyho Lee Jonesa a zahriaty na objednávku strojom, že blažene nevedel o tom, ako mu papierový lístok na vlak vlaje vrecko na podlahu platformy, tancujúce chorobne blízko okraja koľají v skorom jarnom vánku.  

Oplatilo by sa nechať si ujsť vlak do Tokia a užiť si novinku úprimne plechového, črevného nápoja? Našťastie sme obaja boli rýchli na nohách —him k stroju, ja k naháňaniu lietajúceho lístka — a nemuseli sme to zistiť.

Podelil som sa tu o viac peších zážitkov z hovädzích karbonátok a konzervovanej kávy, spolu s miskami rezancov na vietnamskom trhu a kaviárom v súkromnom lietadle pre tých, ktorí by na cestách mohli nechať preniesť túto mýticky dobrodružnú a nenásytnú verziu Tonyho Bourdaina žijú v ich hlavách, ako hovoria deti, bez prenájmu. Viem, že som tam bol a strávil som veľa času a peňazí na to, aby som sa dostal niekam ďaleko, a vo chvíľach, keď som bol príliš hladný alebo unavený alebo ohromený na to, aby som hľadal „tú vec“, „ja“ som sa hanbil za svoju vlastnú sklamanú túžbu zjesť vrecko lupienkov v posteli. Čo by si myslel Tony?  

Potom si spomeniem, že nie som v televízii, nikoho nezaujíma, čo jem v súkromnej chvíli, a že sa možno po šlofíku cítim pripravený na dobrodružstvo. A pamätám si vrchol cesty s Tonym na Srí Lanke.    

Boli sme v aute v Jaffne v severnej časti ostrovného štátu, práve sme zabalili dlhý a horúci výstrel na festivale Madai, ktorý by pokračoval dlho do noci.    

„Tu naokolo,“ povedal Tony hlasom, „festival Madai je pre hinduistov najpriaznivejším dňom v roku na vyrovnanie ich duchovných dlhov. Veriaci prejavujú oddanosť utrpením, ktoré znášajú veľké bolesti a ťažkosti nazývané Kavadis alebo dlhy z bremena. & Quot

Mladí muži boli zavesení na hákoch cez svoje telo, zavesení na žeriavoch ozdobených ovocím a kvetmi, a mladé ženy kráčajúce po topánkach s klincami zatĺkanými do vložiek, zatiaľ čo iné hrali na bicie nástroje, skandovali a tancovali v stave silnej náboženskej extázy. Cez okno auta som sledoval hrať posvätnú podívanú a#x2014 a obzrel som sa, aby som videl Tonyho s tvárou zaborenou hlboko v telefóne. Pokúšal sa zistiť, či je v pešej vzdialenosti od hotela KFC. Nebolo k dispozícii oveľa viac ako niekoľko hrstí varenej ryže počas dlhých hodín nastavovania a natáčania B-rolky, než sa začal sprievod, a vedel, že jeho posádka je horúca, hladná a veľmi ďaleko od domova.

V KFC som čakal medzi skupinami miestnych obyvateľov, aby si objednali niekoľko vedier, a hore na streche hotela a apossu sme spojili niekoľko stolov a stoličiek, zjedli sme rezolútne kura a sušienky zo západného rýchleho občerstvenia a počúvali veselé príbehy Tonyho a členov posádky z cesty. Vyzeral uvoľnene, šťastne a rád, že kŕmi a zabáva svojich priateľov. Aj toto bolo to, čo sme jedli a cestovali s Tonym.

Predobjednať Cestovanie svetom: Neuveriteľný sprievodca Anthony Bourdain a Laurie Woolever (ECCO, 20. apríla 2021)


Aké to bolo jesť s Anthonym Bourdainom

Tony wouldn't have judged you for eating a hamburger in your hotel bed.

I am occasionally asked, "What was it like to eat and travel with Tony Bourdain?"

As his assistant and co-author, I visited various of Tony&aposs filming sets around the world, but only ate on camera with him once, at Aqueduct Racetrack, in Queens, New York, where I live. While we watched the horses, we drank unremarkable domestic beer from wobbly plastic cups and ate the same spicy, savory, almost certainly mass-produced, frozen, and microwaved or deep-fried Jamaican beef patties that you can find in any grocery store or New York City public school cafeteria. Clearly, memorable food wasn&apost the point of the scene, but we really enjoyed those beef patties, which ended up being memorable as the right thing for that context: a salty, crisp-yet-soft booze cushion, eaten with one hand while the other smacks a rolled-up racing form against the rail. 

Of course at times, eating and traveling with Tony was exactly as decadent as you might expect. While in San Francisco to promote our cookbook, Appetites, he sent me on an extremely swanky scavenger hunt for a meal of Dungeness crab, plus caviar, sour cream, red onion, salty potato chips, and chilled Champagne to be served the following night to our small entourage as we departed via private jet to Denver, the final stop of book tour. He explicitly requested perfection. "Ask yourself," he said, "would Jeremiah Tower approve?" 

In Vietnam, I rode behind him on a scooter, gently leaning into the turns as he navigated the streets and avenues of central Huế, between the hushed, luxurious, old colonial hotel and the lively, crowded Dong Ba market. We were there for a bowl of Bún bò Huế, cooked by a woman named Kim Chau, who had been doing it in the same place, in the same way, for decades.

In his TV voiceover, Tony called Bún bò Huế "a wonder of flavor and texture, the greatest soup in the world." Chau&aposs broth was a meaty, spicy, deeply funky, and pleasant thing, within which bobbed tender beef shank, crab dumplings, rice noodles, shredded banana blossoms, fiery chili sauce, and one rich, wobbly rectangle of huyết—gelatinized pig&aposs blood. I huddled out of view with the director and producer while Tony slurped his soup on camera. Once the scene was wrapped, he ordered a bowl for me, and I ate it, perched on a stool, pulled up to a battered aluminum counter, while the buying and selling of vegetables and clothing and dishes and spices and fish and meat and incense and flowers carried on all around us. 

There persists a myth about Tony that, whenever he was hungry𠅊nd in this myth, he was always hungry—he would, without fail, seek out the best, most "authentic," most intense, most attention-seeking dish, anywhere he was in the world. 

As with any myth, it&aposs based on truth. The man loved his pho and hotpot and perfect sushi and every part of every pig, and he loved to share that love. And, owing to some of the indelible bravado of his earliest episodes of television, Tony became known as the guy with durian and seal eyeballs and warthog rectum on his plate. These kinds of extremes make for good and memorable television. After all, especially when you&aposre first starting out in the medium, you have nothing to lose, and everything to gain by becoming known as the guy who ate the beating cobra heart.

What may have gone unnoticed was his capacity to delight in the simplest things, in an un-filmed moment, especially given how much of the world he had seen and tasted. For instance, while in Japan, Tony and I took a Shinkansen from Kanazawa to Tokyo, while the crew (and their dozens of cases of camera equipment) made the trip by van. 

As we ascended by escalator to the platform, Tony spotted a typical but uniquely Japanese vending machine, stocked with dozens of varieties of hot and cold canned coffee drinks, some yards away. He took off toward it, pulling his suitcase with one hand and digging for coins in his jacket pocket with the other. He was in this moment so consumed with his desire for the novelty of canned coffee, emblazoned for some reason with the face of Tommy Lee Jones, and heated to order by the machine, that he was blissfully unaware of his paper train ticket fluttering from his pocket to the platform floor, dancing sickeningly close to the edge of the tracks in the early spring breeze. 

Would it have been worth it, to miss the train to Tokyo, in order to enjoy the novelty of a frankly tinny, gut-churning beverage? Fortunately, we were both quick on our feet—him to the machine, me to chase down the flyaway ticket𠅊nd we didn&apost have to find out.

I have shared here the more pedestrian experiences of beef patties and canned coffee, along with bowls of noodles in a Vietnamese market, and caviar on a private jet for those who, when traveling, might be letting that mythically adventurous and voracious version of Tony Bourdain live in their heads, as the kids say, rent-free. I know I&aposve been there—having spent a lot of time and money to get to someplace far away, and in moments of being too hungry or tired or overwhelmed to go in search of "the thing," I&aposve felt ashamed of my own disappointing desire to eat a bag of chips in bed. What would Tony think? 

Then I remember that I am not on television, no one cares what I am eating in a private moment, and that maybe after a nap, I&aposll feel ready for adventure. And I remember a highlight of traveling with Tony in Sri Lanka.  

We were in a car in Jaffna, in the northern part of the island nation, having just wrapped a long, hot shoot at the Madai Festival, which would continue late into the night.  

"Around here," said Tony in voiceover, "the Madai Festival is the most auspicious day of the year for Hindus to balance their spiritual debts. Believers show devotion through suffering enduring acts of great pain and hardship called Kavadis, or the burden debts."

There were young men suspended by hooks through their flesh, hanging from cranes festooned with fruit and flowers, and young women walking on shoes with nails hammered into the insoles, while others played percussion instruments, chanting and dancing in a state of intense religious ecstasy. I watched the sacred spectacle play out through the car window𠅊nd looked over to see Tony with his face buried deep in his phone. He was trying to figure out if there was a KFC within walking distance of the hotel. There hadn&apost been much more than a few handfuls of cooked rice available in the long hours of setup and shooting B-roll before the procession began, and he knew that his crew were hot, hungry, and very far from home.

At KFC, I waited among groups of locals to order a few buckets, and up on the hotel&aposs rooftop we pushed together some tables and chairs, and ate some resolutely western fast food chicken and biscuits, and listened to Tony and the crew members&apos hilarious stories from the road. He looked relaxed, happy, and pleased to be feeding and entertaining his friends. This, too, was what it was like to eat and travel with Tony.

Pre-order Cestovanie svetom: Neuveriteľný sprievodca by Anthony Bourdain and Laurie Woolever (ECCO, April 20. 2021)


What It Was Like to Eat with Anthony Bourdain

Tony wouldn't have judged you for eating a hamburger in your hotel bed.

I am occasionally asked, "What was it like to eat and travel with Tony Bourdain?"

As his assistant and co-author, I visited various of Tony&aposs filming sets around the world, but only ate on camera with him once, at Aqueduct Racetrack, in Queens, New York, where I live. While we watched the horses, we drank unremarkable domestic beer from wobbly plastic cups and ate the same spicy, savory, almost certainly mass-produced, frozen, and microwaved or deep-fried Jamaican beef patties that you can find in any grocery store or New York City public school cafeteria. Clearly, memorable food wasn&apost the point of the scene, but we really enjoyed those beef patties, which ended up being memorable as the right thing for that context: a salty, crisp-yet-soft booze cushion, eaten with one hand while the other smacks a rolled-up racing form against the rail. 

Of course at times, eating and traveling with Tony was exactly as decadent as you might expect. While in San Francisco to promote our cookbook, Appetites, he sent me on an extremely swanky scavenger hunt for a meal of Dungeness crab, plus caviar, sour cream, red onion, salty potato chips, and chilled Champagne to be served the following night to our small entourage as we departed via private jet to Denver, the final stop of book tour. He explicitly requested perfection. "Ask yourself," he said, "would Jeremiah Tower approve?" 

In Vietnam, I rode behind him on a scooter, gently leaning into the turns as he navigated the streets and avenues of central Huế, between the hushed, luxurious, old colonial hotel and the lively, crowded Dong Ba market. We were there for a bowl of Bún bò Huế, cooked by a woman named Kim Chau, who had been doing it in the same place, in the same way, for decades.

In his TV voiceover, Tony called Bún bò Huế "a wonder of flavor and texture, the greatest soup in the world." Chau&aposs broth was a meaty, spicy, deeply funky, and pleasant thing, within which bobbed tender beef shank, crab dumplings, rice noodles, shredded banana blossoms, fiery chili sauce, and one rich, wobbly rectangle of huyết—gelatinized pig&aposs blood. I huddled out of view with the director and producer while Tony slurped his soup on camera. Once the scene was wrapped, he ordered a bowl for me, and I ate it, perched on a stool, pulled up to a battered aluminum counter, while the buying and selling of vegetables and clothing and dishes and spices and fish and meat and incense and flowers carried on all around us. 

There persists a myth about Tony that, whenever he was hungry𠅊nd in this myth, he was always hungry—he would, without fail, seek out the best, most "authentic," most intense, most attention-seeking dish, anywhere he was in the world. 

As with any myth, it&aposs based on truth. The man loved his pho and hotpot and perfect sushi and every part of every pig, and he loved to share that love. And, owing to some of the indelible bravado of his earliest episodes of television, Tony became known as the guy with durian and seal eyeballs and warthog rectum on his plate. These kinds of extremes make for good and memorable television. After all, especially when you&aposre first starting out in the medium, you have nothing to lose, and everything to gain by becoming known as the guy who ate the beating cobra heart.

What may have gone unnoticed was his capacity to delight in the simplest things, in an un-filmed moment, especially given how much of the world he had seen and tasted. For instance, while in Japan, Tony and I took a Shinkansen from Kanazawa to Tokyo, while the crew (and their dozens of cases of camera equipment) made the trip by van. 

As we ascended by escalator to the platform, Tony spotted a typical but uniquely Japanese vending machine, stocked with dozens of varieties of hot and cold canned coffee drinks, some yards away. He took off toward it, pulling his suitcase with one hand and digging for coins in his jacket pocket with the other. He was in this moment so consumed with his desire for the novelty of canned coffee, emblazoned for some reason with the face of Tommy Lee Jones, and heated to order by the machine, that he was blissfully unaware of his paper train ticket fluttering from his pocket to the platform floor, dancing sickeningly close to the edge of the tracks in the early spring breeze. 

Would it have been worth it, to miss the train to Tokyo, in order to enjoy the novelty of a frankly tinny, gut-churning beverage? Fortunately, we were both quick on our feet—him to the machine, me to chase down the flyaway ticket𠅊nd we didn&apost have to find out.

I have shared here the more pedestrian experiences of beef patties and canned coffee, along with bowls of noodles in a Vietnamese market, and caviar on a private jet for those who, when traveling, might be letting that mythically adventurous and voracious version of Tony Bourdain live in their heads, as the kids say, rent-free. I know I&aposve been there—having spent a lot of time and money to get to someplace far away, and in moments of being too hungry or tired or overwhelmed to go in search of "the thing," I&aposve felt ashamed of my own disappointing desire to eat a bag of chips in bed. What would Tony think? 

Then I remember that I am not on television, no one cares what I am eating in a private moment, and that maybe after a nap, I&aposll feel ready for adventure. And I remember a highlight of traveling with Tony in Sri Lanka.  

We were in a car in Jaffna, in the northern part of the island nation, having just wrapped a long, hot shoot at the Madai Festival, which would continue late into the night.  

"Around here," said Tony in voiceover, "the Madai Festival is the most auspicious day of the year for Hindus to balance their spiritual debts. Believers show devotion through suffering enduring acts of great pain and hardship called Kavadis, or the burden debts."

There were young men suspended by hooks through their flesh, hanging from cranes festooned with fruit and flowers, and young women walking on shoes with nails hammered into the insoles, while others played percussion instruments, chanting and dancing in a state of intense religious ecstasy. I watched the sacred spectacle play out through the car window𠅊nd looked over to see Tony with his face buried deep in his phone. He was trying to figure out if there was a KFC within walking distance of the hotel. There hadn&apost been much more than a few handfuls of cooked rice available in the long hours of setup and shooting B-roll before the procession began, and he knew that his crew were hot, hungry, and very far from home.

At KFC, I waited among groups of locals to order a few buckets, and up on the hotel&aposs rooftop we pushed together some tables and chairs, and ate some resolutely western fast food chicken and biscuits, and listened to Tony and the crew members&apos hilarious stories from the road. He looked relaxed, happy, and pleased to be feeding and entertaining his friends. This, too, was what it was like to eat and travel with Tony.

Pre-order Cestovanie svetom: Neuveriteľný sprievodca by Anthony Bourdain and Laurie Woolever (ECCO, April 20. 2021)


What It Was Like to Eat with Anthony Bourdain

Tony wouldn't have judged you for eating a hamburger in your hotel bed.

I am occasionally asked, "What was it like to eat and travel with Tony Bourdain?"

As his assistant and co-author, I visited various of Tony&aposs filming sets around the world, but only ate on camera with him once, at Aqueduct Racetrack, in Queens, New York, where I live. While we watched the horses, we drank unremarkable domestic beer from wobbly plastic cups and ate the same spicy, savory, almost certainly mass-produced, frozen, and microwaved or deep-fried Jamaican beef patties that you can find in any grocery store or New York City public school cafeteria. Clearly, memorable food wasn&apost the point of the scene, but we really enjoyed those beef patties, which ended up being memorable as the right thing for that context: a salty, crisp-yet-soft booze cushion, eaten with one hand while the other smacks a rolled-up racing form against the rail. 

Of course at times, eating and traveling with Tony was exactly as decadent as you might expect. While in San Francisco to promote our cookbook, Appetites, he sent me on an extremely swanky scavenger hunt for a meal of Dungeness crab, plus caviar, sour cream, red onion, salty potato chips, and chilled Champagne to be served the following night to our small entourage as we departed via private jet to Denver, the final stop of book tour. He explicitly requested perfection. "Ask yourself," he said, "would Jeremiah Tower approve?" 

In Vietnam, I rode behind him on a scooter, gently leaning into the turns as he navigated the streets and avenues of central Huế, between the hushed, luxurious, old colonial hotel and the lively, crowded Dong Ba market. We were there for a bowl of Bún bò Huế, cooked by a woman named Kim Chau, who had been doing it in the same place, in the same way, for decades.

In his TV voiceover, Tony called Bún bò Huế "a wonder of flavor and texture, the greatest soup in the world." Chau&aposs broth was a meaty, spicy, deeply funky, and pleasant thing, within which bobbed tender beef shank, crab dumplings, rice noodles, shredded banana blossoms, fiery chili sauce, and one rich, wobbly rectangle of huyết—gelatinized pig&aposs blood. I huddled out of view with the director and producer while Tony slurped his soup on camera. Once the scene was wrapped, he ordered a bowl for me, and I ate it, perched on a stool, pulled up to a battered aluminum counter, while the buying and selling of vegetables and clothing and dishes and spices and fish and meat and incense and flowers carried on all around us. 

There persists a myth about Tony that, whenever he was hungry𠅊nd in this myth, he was always hungry—he would, without fail, seek out the best, most "authentic," most intense, most attention-seeking dish, anywhere he was in the world. 

As with any myth, it&aposs based on truth. The man loved his pho and hotpot and perfect sushi and every part of every pig, and he loved to share that love. And, owing to some of the indelible bravado of his earliest episodes of television, Tony became known as the guy with durian and seal eyeballs and warthog rectum on his plate. These kinds of extremes make for good and memorable television. After all, especially when you&aposre first starting out in the medium, you have nothing to lose, and everything to gain by becoming known as the guy who ate the beating cobra heart.

What may have gone unnoticed was his capacity to delight in the simplest things, in an un-filmed moment, especially given how much of the world he had seen and tasted. For instance, while in Japan, Tony and I took a Shinkansen from Kanazawa to Tokyo, while the crew (and their dozens of cases of camera equipment) made the trip by van. 

As we ascended by escalator to the platform, Tony spotted a typical but uniquely Japanese vending machine, stocked with dozens of varieties of hot and cold canned coffee drinks, some yards away. He took off toward it, pulling his suitcase with one hand and digging for coins in his jacket pocket with the other. He was in this moment so consumed with his desire for the novelty of canned coffee, emblazoned for some reason with the face of Tommy Lee Jones, and heated to order by the machine, that he was blissfully unaware of his paper train ticket fluttering from his pocket to the platform floor, dancing sickeningly close to the edge of the tracks in the early spring breeze. 

Would it have been worth it, to miss the train to Tokyo, in order to enjoy the novelty of a frankly tinny, gut-churning beverage? Fortunately, we were both quick on our feet—him to the machine, me to chase down the flyaway ticket𠅊nd we didn&apost have to find out.

I have shared here the more pedestrian experiences of beef patties and canned coffee, along with bowls of noodles in a Vietnamese market, and caviar on a private jet for those who, when traveling, might be letting that mythically adventurous and voracious version of Tony Bourdain live in their heads, as the kids say, rent-free. I know I&aposve been there—having spent a lot of time and money to get to someplace far away, and in moments of being too hungry or tired or overwhelmed to go in search of "the thing," I&aposve felt ashamed of my own disappointing desire to eat a bag of chips in bed. What would Tony think? 

Then I remember that I am not on television, no one cares what I am eating in a private moment, and that maybe after a nap, I&aposll feel ready for adventure. And I remember a highlight of traveling with Tony in Sri Lanka.  

We were in a car in Jaffna, in the northern part of the island nation, having just wrapped a long, hot shoot at the Madai Festival, which would continue late into the night.  

"Around here," said Tony in voiceover, "the Madai Festival is the most auspicious day of the year for Hindus to balance their spiritual debts. Believers show devotion through suffering enduring acts of great pain and hardship called Kavadis, or the burden debts."

There were young men suspended by hooks through their flesh, hanging from cranes festooned with fruit and flowers, and young women walking on shoes with nails hammered into the insoles, while others played percussion instruments, chanting and dancing in a state of intense religious ecstasy. I watched the sacred spectacle play out through the car window𠅊nd looked over to see Tony with his face buried deep in his phone. He was trying to figure out if there was a KFC within walking distance of the hotel. There hadn&apost been much more than a few handfuls of cooked rice available in the long hours of setup and shooting B-roll before the procession began, and he knew that his crew were hot, hungry, and very far from home.

At KFC, I waited among groups of locals to order a few buckets, and up on the hotel&aposs rooftop we pushed together some tables and chairs, and ate some resolutely western fast food chicken and biscuits, and listened to Tony and the crew members&apos hilarious stories from the road. He looked relaxed, happy, and pleased to be feeding and entertaining his friends. This, too, was what it was like to eat and travel with Tony.

Pre-order Cestovanie svetom: Neuveriteľný sprievodca by Anthony Bourdain and Laurie Woolever (ECCO, April 20. 2021)


What It Was Like to Eat with Anthony Bourdain

Tony wouldn't have judged you for eating a hamburger in your hotel bed.

I am occasionally asked, "What was it like to eat and travel with Tony Bourdain?"

As his assistant and co-author, I visited various of Tony&aposs filming sets around the world, but only ate on camera with him once, at Aqueduct Racetrack, in Queens, New York, where I live. While we watched the horses, we drank unremarkable domestic beer from wobbly plastic cups and ate the same spicy, savory, almost certainly mass-produced, frozen, and microwaved or deep-fried Jamaican beef patties that you can find in any grocery store or New York City public school cafeteria. Clearly, memorable food wasn&apost the point of the scene, but we really enjoyed those beef patties, which ended up being memorable as the right thing for that context: a salty, crisp-yet-soft booze cushion, eaten with one hand while the other smacks a rolled-up racing form against the rail. 

Of course at times, eating and traveling with Tony was exactly as decadent as you might expect. While in San Francisco to promote our cookbook, Appetites, he sent me on an extremely swanky scavenger hunt for a meal of Dungeness crab, plus caviar, sour cream, red onion, salty potato chips, and chilled Champagne to be served the following night to our small entourage as we departed via private jet to Denver, the final stop of book tour. He explicitly requested perfection. "Ask yourself," he said, "would Jeremiah Tower approve?" 

In Vietnam, I rode behind him on a scooter, gently leaning into the turns as he navigated the streets and avenues of central Huế, between the hushed, luxurious, old colonial hotel and the lively, crowded Dong Ba market. We were there for a bowl of Bún bò Huế, cooked by a woman named Kim Chau, who had been doing it in the same place, in the same way, for decades.

In his TV voiceover, Tony called Bún bò Huế "a wonder of flavor and texture, the greatest soup in the world." Chau&aposs broth was a meaty, spicy, deeply funky, and pleasant thing, within which bobbed tender beef shank, crab dumplings, rice noodles, shredded banana blossoms, fiery chili sauce, and one rich, wobbly rectangle of huyết—gelatinized pig&aposs blood. I huddled out of view with the director and producer while Tony slurped his soup on camera. Once the scene was wrapped, he ordered a bowl for me, and I ate it, perched on a stool, pulled up to a battered aluminum counter, while the buying and selling of vegetables and clothing and dishes and spices and fish and meat and incense and flowers carried on all around us. 

There persists a myth about Tony that, whenever he was hungry𠅊nd in this myth, he was always hungry—he would, without fail, seek out the best, most "authentic," most intense, most attention-seeking dish, anywhere he was in the world. 

As with any myth, it&aposs based on truth. The man loved his pho and hotpot and perfect sushi and every part of every pig, and he loved to share that love. And, owing to some of the indelible bravado of his earliest episodes of television, Tony became known as the guy with durian and seal eyeballs and warthog rectum on his plate. These kinds of extremes make for good and memorable television. After all, especially when you&aposre first starting out in the medium, you have nothing to lose, and everything to gain by becoming known as the guy who ate the beating cobra heart.

What may have gone unnoticed was his capacity to delight in the simplest things, in an un-filmed moment, especially given how much of the world he had seen and tasted. For instance, while in Japan, Tony and I took a Shinkansen from Kanazawa to Tokyo, while the crew (and their dozens of cases of camera equipment) made the trip by van. 

As we ascended by escalator to the platform, Tony spotted a typical but uniquely Japanese vending machine, stocked with dozens of varieties of hot and cold canned coffee drinks, some yards away. He took off toward it, pulling his suitcase with one hand and digging for coins in his jacket pocket with the other. He was in this moment so consumed with his desire for the novelty of canned coffee, emblazoned for some reason with the face of Tommy Lee Jones, and heated to order by the machine, that he was blissfully unaware of his paper train ticket fluttering from his pocket to the platform floor, dancing sickeningly close to the edge of the tracks in the early spring breeze. 

Would it have been worth it, to miss the train to Tokyo, in order to enjoy the novelty of a frankly tinny, gut-churning beverage? Fortunately, we were both quick on our feet—him to the machine, me to chase down the flyaway ticket𠅊nd we didn&apost have to find out.

I have shared here the more pedestrian experiences of beef patties and canned coffee, along with bowls of noodles in a Vietnamese market, and caviar on a private jet for those who, when traveling, might be letting that mythically adventurous and voracious version of Tony Bourdain live in their heads, as the kids say, rent-free. I know I&aposve been there—having spent a lot of time and money to get to someplace far away, and in moments of being too hungry or tired or overwhelmed to go in search of "the thing," I&aposve felt ashamed of my own disappointing desire to eat a bag of chips in bed. What would Tony think? 

Then I remember that I am not on television, no one cares what I am eating in a private moment, and that maybe after a nap, I&aposll feel ready for adventure. And I remember a highlight of traveling with Tony in Sri Lanka.  

We were in a car in Jaffna, in the northern part of the island nation, having just wrapped a long, hot shoot at the Madai Festival, which would continue late into the night.  

"Around here," said Tony in voiceover, "the Madai Festival is the most auspicious day of the year for Hindus to balance their spiritual debts. Believers show devotion through suffering enduring acts of great pain and hardship called Kavadis, or the burden debts."

There were young men suspended by hooks through their flesh, hanging from cranes festooned with fruit and flowers, and young women walking on shoes with nails hammered into the insoles, while others played percussion instruments, chanting and dancing in a state of intense religious ecstasy. I watched the sacred spectacle play out through the car window𠅊nd looked over to see Tony with his face buried deep in his phone. He was trying to figure out if there was a KFC within walking distance of the hotel. There hadn&apost been much more than a few handfuls of cooked rice available in the long hours of setup and shooting B-roll before the procession began, and he knew that his crew were hot, hungry, and very far from home.

At KFC, I waited among groups of locals to order a few buckets, and up on the hotel&aposs rooftop we pushed together some tables and chairs, and ate some resolutely western fast food chicken and biscuits, and listened to Tony and the crew members&apos hilarious stories from the road. He looked relaxed, happy, and pleased to be feeding and entertaining his friends. This, too, was what it was like to eat and travel with Tony.

Pre-order Cestovanie svetom: Neuveriteľný sprievodca by Anthony Bourdain and Laurie Woolever (ECCO, April 20. 2021)


What It Was Like to Eat with Anthony Bourdain

Tony wouldn't have judged you for eating a hamburger in your hotel bed.

I am occasionally asked, "What was it like to eat and travel with Tony Bourdain?"

As his assistant and co-author, I visited various of Tony&aposs filming sets around the world, but only ate on camera with him once, at Aqueduct Racetrack, in Queens, New York, where I live. While we watched the horses, we drank unremarkable domestic beer from wobbly plastic cups and ate the same spicy, savory, almost certainly mass-produced, frozen, and microwaved or deep-fried Jamaican beef patties that you can find in any grocery store or New York City public school cafeteria. Clearly, memorable food wasn&apost the point of the scene, but we really enjoyed those beef patties, which ended up being memorable as the right thing for that context: a salty, crisp-yet-soft booze cushion, eaten with one hand while the other smacks a rolled-up racing form against the rail. 

Of course at times, eating and traveling with Tony was exactly as decadent as you might expect. While in San Francisco to promote our cookbook, Appetites, he sent me on an extremely swanky scavenger hunt for a meal of Dungeness crab, plus caviar, sour cream, red onion, salty potato chips, and chilled Champagne to be served the following night to our small entourage as we departed via private jet to Denver, the final stop of book tour. He explicitly requested perfection. "Ask yourself," he said, "would Jeremiah Tower approve?" 

In Vietnam, I rode behind him on a scooter, gently leaning into the turns as he navigated the streets and avenues of central Huế, between the hushed, luxurious, old colonial hotel and the lively, crowded Dong Ba market. We were there for a bowl of Bún bò Huế, cooked by a woman named Kim Chau, who had been doing it in the same place, in the same way, for decades.

In his TV voiceover, Tony called Bún bò Huế "a wonder of flavor and texture, the greatest soup in the world." Chau&aposs broth was a meaty, spicy, deeply funky, and pleasant thing, within which bobbed tender beef shank, crab dumplings, rice noodles, shredded banana blossoms, fiery chili sauce, and one rich, wobbly rectangle of huyết—gelatinized pig&aposs blood. I huddled out of view with the director and producer while Tony slurped his soup on camera. Once the scene was wrapped, he ordered a bowl for me, and I ate it, perched on a stool, pulled up to a battered aluminum counter, while the buying and selling of vegetables and clothing and dishes and spices and fish and meat and incense and flowers carried on all around us. 

There persists a myth about Tony that, whenever he was hungry𠅊nd in this myth, he was always hungry—he would, without fail, seek out the best, most "authentic," most intense, most attention-seeking dish, anywhere he was in the world. 

As with any myth, it&aposs based on truth. The man loved his pho and hotpot and perfect sushi and every part of every pig, and he loved to share that love. And, owing to some of the indelible bravado of his earliest episodes of television, Tony became known as the guy with durian and seal eyeballs and warthog rectum on his plate. These kinds of extremes make for good and memorable television. After all, especially when you&aposre first starting out in the medium, you have nothing to lose, and everything to gain by becoming known as the guy who ate the beating cobra heart.

What may have gone unnoticed was his capacity to delight in the simplest things, in an un-filmed moment, especially given how much of the world he had seen and tasted. For instance, while in Japan, Tony and I took a Shinkansen from Kanazawa to Tokyo, while the crew (and their dozens of cases of camera equipment) made the trip by van. 

As we ascended by escalator to the platform, Tony spotted a typical but uniquely Japanese vending machine, stocked with dozens of varieties of hot and cold canned coffee drinks, some yards away. He took off toward it, pulling his suitcase with one hand and digging for coins in his jacket pocket with the other. He was in this moment so consumed with his desire for the novelty of canned coffee, emblazoned for some reason with the face of Tommy Lee Jones, and heated to order by the machine, that he was blissfully unaware of his paper train ticket fluttering from his pocket to the platform floor, dancing sickeningly close to the edge of the tracks in the early spring breeze. 

Would it have been worth it, to miss the train to Tokyo, in order to enjoy the novelty of a frankly tinny, gut-churning beverage? Fortunately, we were both quick on our feet—him to the machine, me to chase down the flyaway ticket𠅊nd we didn&apost have to find out.

I have shared here the more pedestrian experiences of beef patties and canned coffee, along with bowls of noodles in a Vietnamese market, and caviar on a private jet for those who, when traveling, might be letting that mythically adventurous and voracious version of Tony Bourdain live in their heads, as the kids say, rent-free. I know I&aposve been there—having spent a lot of time and money to get to someplace far away, and in moments of being too hungry or tired or overwhelmed to go in search of "the thing," I&aposve felt ashamed of my own disappointing desire to eat a bag of chips in bed. What would Tony think? 

Then I remember that I am not on television, no one cares what I am eating in a private moment, and that maybe after a nap, I&aposll feel ready for adventure. And I remember a highlight of traveling with Tony in Sri Lanka.  

We were in a car in Jaffna, in the northern part of the island nation, having just wrapped a long, hot shoot at the Madai Festival, which would continue late into the night.  

"Around here," said Tony in voiceover, "the Madai Festival is the most auspicious day of the year for Hindus to balance their spiritual debts. Believers show devotion through suffering enduring acts of great pain and hardship called Kavadis, or the burden debts."

There were young men suspended by hooks through their flesh, hanging from cranes festooned with fruit and flowers, and young women walking on shoes with nails hammered into the insoles, while others played percussion instruments, chanting and dancing in a state of intense religious ecstasy. I watched the sacred spectacle play out through the car window𠅊nd looked over to see Tony with his face buried deep in his phone. He was trying to figure out if there was a KFC within walking distance of the hotel. There hadn&apost been much more than a few handfuls of cooked rice available in the long hours of setup and shooting B-roll before the procession began, and he knew that his crew were hot, hungry, and very far from home.

At KFC, I waited among groups of locals to order a few buckets, and up on the hotel&aposs rooftop we pushed together some tables and chairs, and ate some resolutely western fast food chicken and biscuits, and listened to Tony and the crew members&apos hilarious stories from the road. He looked relaxed, happy, and pleased to be feeding and entertaining his friends. This, too, was what it was like to eat and travel with Tony.

Pre-order Cestovanie svetom: Neuveriteľný sprievodca by Anthony Bourdain and Laurie Woolever (ECCO, April 20. 2021)


What It Was Like to Eat with Anthony Bourdain

Tony wouldn't have judged you for eating a hamburger in your hotel bed.

I am occasionally asked, "What was it like to eat and travel with Tony Bourdain?"

As his assistant and co-author, I visited various of Tony&aposs filming sets around the world, but only ate on camera with him once, at Aqueduct Racetrack, in Queens, New York, where I live. While we watched the horses, we drank unremarkable domestic beer from wobbly plastic cups and ate the same spicy, savory, almost certainly mass-produced, frozen, and microwaved or deep-fried Jamaican beef patties that you can find in any grocery store or New York City public school cafeteria. Clearly, memorable food wasn&apost the point of the scene, but we really enjoyed those beef patties, which ended up being memorable as the right thing for that context: a salty, crisp-yet-soft booze cushion, eaten with one hand while the other smacks a rolled-up racing form against the rail. 

Of course at times, eating and traveling with Tony was exactly as decadent as you might expect. While in San Francisco to promote our cookbook, Appetites, he sent me on an extremely swanky scavenger hunt for a meal of Dungeness crab, plus caviar, sour cream, red onion, salty potato chips, and chilled Champagne to be served the following night to our small entourage as we departed via private jet to Denver, the final stop of book tour. He explicitly requested perfection. "Ask yourself," he said, "would Jeremiah Tower approve?" 

In Vietnam, I rode behind him on a scooter, gently leaning into the turns as he navigated the streets and avenues of central Huế, between the hushed, luxurious, old colonial hotel and the lively, crowded Dong Ba market. We were there for a bowl of Bún bò Huế, cooked by a woman named Kim Chau, who had been doing it in the same place, in the same way, for decades.

In his TV voiceover, Tony called Bún bò Huế "a wonder of flavor and texture, the greatest soup in the world." Chau&aposs broth was a meaty, spicy, deeply funky, and pleasant thing, within which bobbed tender beef shank, crab dumplings, rice noodles, shredded banana blossoms, fiery chili sauce, and one rich, wobbly rectangle of huyết—gelatinized pig&aposs blood. I huddled out of view with the director and producer while Tony slurped his soup on camera. Once the scene was wrapped, he ordered a bowl for me, and I ate it, perched on a stool, pulled up to a battered aluminum counter, while the buying and selling of vegetables and clothing and dishes and spices and fish and meat and incense and flowers carried on all around us. 

There persists a myth about Tony that, whenever he was hungry𠅊nd in this myth, he was always hungry—he would, without fail, seek out the best, most "authentic," most intense, most attention-seeking dish, anywhere he was in the world. 

As with any myth, it&aposs based on truth. The man loved his pho and hotpot and perfect sushi and every part of every pig, and he loved to share that love. And, owing to some of the indelible bravado of his earliest episodes of television, Tony became known as the guy with durian and seal eyeballs and warthog rectum on his plate. These kinds of extremes make for good and memorable television. After all, especially when you&aposre first starting out in the medium, you have nothing to lose, and everything to gain by becoming known as the guy who ate the beating cobra heart.

What may have gone unnoticed was his capacity to delight in the simplest things, in an un-filmed moment, especially given how much of the world he had seen and tasted. For instance, while in Japan, Tony and I took a Shinkansen from Kanazawa to Tokyo, while the crew (and their dozens of cases of camera equipment) made the trip by van. 

As we ascended by escalator to the platform, Tony spotted a typical but uniquely Japanese vending machine, stocked with dozens of varieties of hot and cold canned coffee drinks, some yards away. He took off toward it, pulling his suitcase with one hand and digging for coins in his jacket pocket with the other. He was in this moment so consumed with his desire for the novelty of canned coffee, emblazoned for some reason with the face of Tommy Lee Jones, and heated to order by the machine, that he was blissfully unaware of his paper train ticket fluttering from his pocket to the platform floor, dancing sickeningly close to the edge of the tracks in the early spring breeze. 

Would it have been worth it, to miss the train to Tokyo, in order to enjoy the novelty of a frankly tinny, gut-churning beverage? Fortunately, we were both quick on our feet—him to the machine, me to chase down the flyaway ticket𠅊nd we didn&apost have to find out.

I have shared here the more pedestrian experiences of beef patties and canned coffee, along with bowls of noodles in a Vietnamese market, and caviar on a private jet for those who, when traveling, might be letting that mythically adventurous and voracious version of Tony Bourdain live in their heads, as the kids say, rent-free. I know I&aposve been there—having spent a lot of time and money to get to someplace far away, and in moments of being too hungry or tired or overwhelmed to go in search of "the thing," I&aposve felt ashamed of my own disappointing desire to eat a bag of chips in bed. What would Tony think? 

Then I remember that I am not on television, no one cares what I am eating in a private moment, and that maybe after a nap, I&aposll feel ready for adventure. And I remember a highlight of traveling with Tony in Sri Lanka.  

We were in a car in Jaffna, in the northern part of the island nation, having just wrapped a long, hot shoot at the Madai Festival, which would continue late into the night.  

"Around here," said Tony in voiceover, "the Madai Festival is the most auspicious day of the year for Hindus to balance their spiritual debts. Veriaci prejavujú oddanosť utrpením, ktoré znášajú veľké bolesti a ťažkosti nazývané Kavadis alebo dlhy bremena. & Quot

Mladí muži boli zavesení na hákoch cez svoje telo, zavesení na žeriavoch ozdobených ovocím a kvetmi, a mladé ženy kráčajúce po topánkach s klincami zatĺkanými do vložiek, zatiaľ čo iné hrali na bicie nástroje, skandovali a tancovali v stave silnej náboženskej extázy. Cez okno auta som sledoval hrať posvätnú podívanú a#x2014 a pozrel som sa na to, aby som videl Tonyho s tvárou zaborenou hlboko v telefóne. Pokúšal sa zistiť, či je v pešej vzdialenosti od hotela KFC. Nebolo k dispozícii oveľa viac ako niekoľko hrstí varenej ryže počas dlhých hodín nastavovania a natáčania B-rolky, než sa sprievod začal, a vedel, že jeho posádka je horúca, hladná a veľmi ďaleko od domova.

V KFC som čakal medzi skupinami miestnych obyvateľov, aby si objednali niekoľko vedier, a hore na streche hotela a apossu sme spojili niekoľko stolov a stoličiek, zjedli sme rezolútne kura a sušienky zo západného rýchleho občerstvenia a počúvali veselé príbehy Tonyho a členov posádky z cesty. Vyzeral uvoľnene, šťastne a rád, že kŕmi a zabáva svojich priateľov. Aj toto bolo to, čo sme jedli a cestovali s Tonym.

Predobjednať Cestovanie svetom: Neuveriteľný sprievodca Anthony Bourdain a Laurie Woolever (ECCO, 20. apríla 2021)


Pozri si video: Anthony Bourdain - Japan (Február 2023).