
“I was — to be frank — a spoiled, miserable, narcissistic, self-destructive and thoughtless young lout, badly in need of a good ass-kicking” -Tony Bourdain.
I have always lived under the assumption that in the early 70s people could just grab a fist full of bills and travel to some other place on a whim. That is the romanticized version of how my parents met. In Tony’s life, that was how he discovered his true passion.
Perhaps he has always resonated with me because he was an aspiring writer who found food. Though he did end up writing a number of books, both fiction and nonfiction. And, in my opinion, the fiction doesn’t hold a candle to the nonfiction. And I think this film may have been playing it a little clean, with slight hints to the life styles and habits of kitchen life. The sometimes necessity of it when responsibility is lacking. And, as a young man living on a hammock under the illusion that it is all for his writing career, we can assume responsibility was lacking.
But it is so easy to fall for the character of Tony, with his incredible side burns and awkward, shy look from under his wild bangs. You hope for the Great Outdoors moment when the guy gets the girl while on summer vacation. You watch the change begin in him from eating oysters on the half shell because it is so French and high class, to taking his first bite of a freshly caught fish, grilled on the beach in the middle of the night. You see him open a cookbook written in a foreign language and begin to feel a fire burning inside.
While attending the best culinary school in the nation tought him proper skills, his summer in Cape Cod tought him the feeling of a fire inside.
And, I admit that I teared up a little when one of his true best friends cameoed in the film.
He was a man with a razor sharp tongue, but had such a wild sense of passion; passion for food, passion for culture, and a passion for people.

































































