We were never supposed to like Anthony Bourdain. On the surface he could be abrasive, confrontational, and downright mean. For years he worked in restaurants, an environment where casual viciousness was not only accepted but a way of life. His drug use alone makes him an unlikely hero for any cause. But make no mistake, he was a hero… and will continue to be.
When Bourdain released his debut book Kitchen Confidential,is observations of the restaurant industry, as well as of himself in it, were hard-hitting and brutally honest without shame or apology. The candor he brought to the page was instantly relatable to anyone who had ever worked for a living. Bourdain’s was a voice of someone who had been there without privilege. He was dirty with experience. He was one of us.
Bourdain became the Johnny Cash of the food world. He was that imperfect rockstar from humble beginnings that spoke truth to power. His truth. He spoke it in way that we all want to speak: with authority and confidence (maybe with a little arrogance) with his own experience being the backbone of his convictions…even if he was wrong. He was the example that an everyman could not only be heard, but can make it to that next level.
And yet, no person is one thing. That was certainly true for Bourdain. In the same sentence he could be erudite and corse. Brash and generous . It is impossible to define him in one sentence. The same could be said of how he conveyed his experiences. While the subtext of his writing could be examined on a political and or sociological level, ultimately, he shared the experience of being alive through the exploration of the one thing everyone human on the planet has in common: food.
Joseph Campbell, mythologist (author of Hero With a Thousand Faces), defines a hero as “Someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself.” By that definition, Mr. Bourdain deserves red boots and a cape. He travelled around the world to bring us sights, sounds, and flavors not easily available. He taught us not to fear the unknown. And, he did it the whole time fighting his own personal demons. A fight he recently lost. Every hero has his Ragnarok just as everyone of us will have that moment of no return. In his passing, as in his life, Anthony Bourdain is a series of contradictions. Those contradictions in no way affect the mark he left on food, culture, and the world. He is hero to the working man not because he brought his experiences to us, but because he lifted us up to his.
On July 18th, 1953, Elvis Presley drove his truck from Tupelo, Mississippi to t
7:30 at Tres Hermanas, my favorite Mexican restaurant, and the wait would make a lesser man weep. I put my name in with the hostess, but already know I have no intention of sitting at a table. I make for the bar and hope to find two empty seats. It’s a tight squeeze, but I get my wife and me in, between two guys doing shots and what has to be a couple on a first date. The bartender looks at us and smiles. Without asking he puts two of his famous top-shelf margaritas in front of us and asks how the hell we are doing.