I MISS TONY BOURDAIN

[quote] THERE, I SAID IT.

OP = The Brave and the Bored 🥱

I don’t. Creepy ass motherfucker.

Annoying, but he did like Cleveland.

I'm starting to realize more and more that he really was an asshole.

Very insecure, very judgmental, and in the end, very selfish.

He wasn't a nice person, except for the people that he was nice to.

And I still wonder what happened at the end, with Asia Argento. He helped her pay off the boy that she molested, and then he killed himself shortly after.

WTF was that about?

She should be in jail right now.

I loved his Layover TV show. I like visiting cities for very short periods of time so it was the perfect travel show for me.

I miss his show but wow, he was one messed up guy at the end.

Some dude posted the recipe for his favorite sandwich. Capocollo, with pistachios plus provolone plus Dijon and mayo on a Kaiser roll.

It looks really good. I’m gonna make it one of those days.

Why did he allow that "Asia Fish" destroy him? He paid off her molester& her pussy destroyed him

Poor me.

I watched a cooking show the other day and they visited a couple of restaurants in Vietnam that Bourdain had put on the map, the owners spoke about him and what he had done for them, they were all moved to tears. I know I'll be "oh mary'd" but I loved his show and the connection he made with locals, I find it hard to watch any of his shows...he was surely unique.

R10, my family started loving Vietnamese food because of him. My brother rarely went out of his comfort zone with food. He loved pho after trying it at a spot close to his office. He became friends with the restaurant’s owner and got to try some dishes that were off the menu too.

It was a classy, informative show. Sure beats Guy Fieri, the epitome of MAGAT food preparer.

He couldn’t have a show in 2024 anyway. Smirking old white guy patronizing people of color? The way he deigned to eat their food and patted them on the head so to speak made for uncomfortable viewing even 10 years ago.

I don't miss his fans.

R13 He was so kitsch, drooling over ethnic food that “spoke to his soul” but hated the local loc mom-and-pop American equivalents that Guy Fieri promoted unless he was taken there by some hipster.

I hated watching Bourdain, because it was an exercise in watching someone who hated himself.

Lest we forget his Ortolan article.

“My last semester at Vassar, I'd taken to wearing nunchakus in a strap-on holster and carrying around a samurai sword — that should tell you all you need to know.”

A pompous, self-important asshole offs himself.

Move it along, Bossie. Absolutely nothing to see here.

[quote]The flames in the cocottes burn down, and the Ortolans are distributed, one to each guest. Everyone at this table knows what to do and how to do it. We wait for the sizzling flesh and fat before us to quiet down a bit. We exchange glances and grins and then, simultaneously, we place our napkins over our heads, hiding our faces from God, and with burning fingertips lift our birds gingerly by their hot skulls, placing them feet-first into our mouths – only their heads and beaks protruding.

[quote]In the darkness under my shroud, I realize that in my eagerness to fully enjoy the experience, I’ve closed my eyes. First comes the skin and the fat. It’s hot. So hot that I’m drawing short, panicky, circular breaths in and out – like a high-speed trumpet player, breathing around the ortolan, shifting it gingerly around my mouth with my tongue so I don’t burn myself. I listen for the sounds of jaws against bone around me but hear only others breathing, the muffled hiss od rapidly moving air through teeth under a dozen linen napkins. There’s a vestigal flavor of Armagnac, low-hanging fumes of airborne fat particles, an intoxicating dekicious miasma. Time goes by. Seconds? Moments? I don’t know. I hear the first snap of tiny bones from somewhere near and decide to brave it. I bring my molars down and through my bird’s rib cage with a wet crunch and am rewarded with a scalding hot rush of burning fat and guts down my throat. Rarely have pain and delight combined so well. I’m giddily uncomfortable, breathing in short, controlled gasps as I continue slowly – ever so slowly – to chew. With every bite, as the thin bones and layers of fat, meat, skin, and organs compact in on themselves, there are sublime dribbles of varied and wonderous ancient flavors: figs, Armagnac, dark flesh slightly infused with the salty taste of my own blood as my mouth is pricked by the sharp bones. As I swallow, I draw in the head and beak, which, until now, have been hanging from my lips, and blithely crush the skull.

Sounds pretty stupid to me.

I can't believe he did that to his little girl.

Wow, Tony you ate a tiny defenseless bird. What an edgelord you are.