Bourdain

Oh, the irony.

As I sit down to write this, I am confounded by a series of emotions.  Like everyone else, I woke up to the news Friday that the world had lost Anthony Bourdain. The quintessential ‘Man of the World’. First a chef, then an observer of everything a kitchen could offer. Good and Bad. Exceptional writer and wordsmith. Of that there is no question. Who else could equate learning how to make an omelette with learning how to have sex? Funny thing about it is, I get it. We all did.

The irony comes in the form of my return from 10 days in Italy on Thursday night. I had never been to Italy and was unbelievably moved by a lot of what I saw. The evening we walked into San Marco Square in Venice for the first time, it was twilight. A formally dressed 3 piece ‘band’ was performing in front of a nearby restaurant. The sound of the the violin as we entered the square-devoid of the tourists that make it unbearable at midday-and just spun around slowly like Mary Tyler Moore was a moment I will never ever forget. Ever.

My first morning back home I woke up to the news just after 6am that Mr. Bourdain had died. Shocking, clearly. Devastating really. None of us were ready to lose a talent like that. Yeah, for a lot of people with culinary passions, it’s like losing Prince, or Michael Jackson or David Bowie. Yes, by all accounts, even the Smithsonian Institute, Anthony Bourdain was a culinary rock star. Really, the world’s first.

Clearly that was, and continues to be, big news. The circumstances surrounding his death, quite sad actually. The outpouring of heartbreak on social media, equally so. I fielded a couple of texts and a couple of emails from friends asking if I was OK in the wake of the news. Yeah. Very sad, but I’m OK. More irony.

Most people would automatically assume I was a “superfan” because of what it is that I do for a living. I mean, how could I not be? He sat at the top of food chain in the world where I currently reside. King of the hill. Top of the heap. A number 1.  How could I not want to be Anthony Bourdain?! Everyone did.

Truth be told, I watched some of his work, but I wasn’t a huge fan. I was a fan of the wanderlust. I was not a fan of the abrasive attitude and sarcasm about almost everything he talked about. I also didn’t like how much he used the word ‘fuck’.  Does that make me crazy? No, of course not. Especially when you consider how much I use the word myself. Just not on television or any other public forum for that matter.

Let me be clear, the man was an amazing writer and communicator for which I had tremendous respect.  But you hear stories like the time he was at the South Beach Food and Wine Festival when he was approached by a handful of chefs who were working an event who just wanted to meet him and say hello. Apparently, Mr. Bourdain was a bit bothered by the attention so he sent out a tweet about how he was surrounded by ‘douche bag chefs’ in Miami. The problem was, he was still in the room.

Some people might laugh and say that’s the stuff that made Anthony Bourdain who he was. That’s fine. I happen to think it makes you kind of a dick. But hey, that’s Tony, right?

What I did love about Mr. Bourdain was his ability to inspire. He had an unbelievable way with words. Hell, I loved listening to him speak during interviews. His insight into a million things was fantastic. I just didn’t care much for his TV shows.

More irony.

If you know the story of how Eat It and Like It came to be, then you know all about my business partner Senea Crystal’s suggestion one summer day in 2010 that I could become “Savannah’s Anthony Bourdain.” Of course, she was a super fan. Super duper fan actually, and it was from his model that she recognized an opportunity for me to use my ability as a writer, journalist and TV personality to talk/blog about food in and around Savannah and the South.

Early on, she regularly asked me to watch his shows for inspiration on what Eat It and Like It would or could look like. She was a huge fan of the production value. I refused. Every single time. Not only for the reasons I mentioned above, but also because I was already producing a TV show myself.

I regularly drew comparisons to music. “I cannot possibly sit down and listen to 3 hours of The Beatles then write my own music and not have it sound like The Beatles.” Human nature. So I stayed away. Personally, the goal has always been to be the first Jesse Blanco – whatever that means.  Not try to be the next Anthony Bourdain.

I am most saddened by the loss of someone who had an uncanny ability to inspire people. Maybe it was to try a new food, maybe it was to cook something you’d never made before. Most importantly, his desire was to inspire you to travel. To see the world. To talk to people and at least try to understand that there is always another side to any story. The common denominator was always food and he was an absolute master at making it all seamless.

At the age of 49, I don’t travel like I used to. I see Europe very differently than I did the first time I visited London in 1990. I suppose we all see everything differently than we did 30 years ago. At least I hope we do.

Mr. Bourdain inspired a generation (or more, who knows) to ‘get off the couch and move. As far as you can, as much as you can.  Across an ocean. Or simply across a river.” were his words when asked if he was an advocate for anything. His message was clear.  Now, my final bit of irony.

Not 12 hours before I learned of Mr. Bourdain’s death, I arrived back in the United States determined to see more of the world. I was, frankly, a bit frustrated that it took me 49 years to see Italy for the first time.  There were moments where I was trampled emotionally. I was so moved by the scene at Bellagio on Lake Como that I found myself late that night reading Wikipedia and learning that the first visitors to that lake in the Italian Alps goes back to 400 BC.

How in the hell did it take me 49 years to get there?

I pulled up in front of my house with everything short of a master plan to see much more of the world in the next decade than I had the previous. I’ve been fortunate enough to average a trip to Europe every 2 years lately. All of a sudden, that doesn’t seem like nearly enough.

I think Mr. Bourdain would agree with me.  Right after he told me that he didn’t give a shit if I ever watched his show or not.

May you rest in peace, sir. I am overjoyed for those you’ve inspired to be and do more. Even if they didn’t realize it.

See you on TV

Jesse