My comment in the NY Times on the passing of Anthony Bourdain:
If we're lucky, once or twice in our lifetimes we are exposed to the words and ideas of someone who, for whatever reason, speaks to our souls. For me, one of those few voices was that of Anthony Bourdain.
He was witty, flippant yet sincere, and in many ways, more adventurous than we normal mortals. His hard living drug use as a younger man morphed into him becoming a chain smoking alcohol consuming curmudgeon that surprisingly became a father at 50.
His appreciation of everyday people and what they ate led him around the globe on a seemingly unending journey of food and drink almost beyond what one man alone could consume and live very long to talk about. A simple meal of noodles and a cold beer with Barack Obama meant as much to him as any meal offered to him by the lowliest of home cooks in the dozens of countries he visited, many more than once.
And ironically, for someone who literally worshipped the Asian continent and its cuisine and cultures, the last true love of his life was also named Asia - the #metoo icon Asia Argento.
But what spoke to me was the one thing that would describe him: he was no bullshit, no spin, nothing hidden - Anthony Bourdain was real, which is rare these days. And he would never tell you he deserved to be on that pedestal we put celebrities on - instead he would tell you how lucky he was to get to do what he did.
Soul/R&B singer & saxophonist Jeff Hendrick perhaps said it best: "At a time when dark forces want to divide us, he showed us how food, fellowship, and culture unite us... he took us to places most of us will never get to see in our lifetimes, and he showed us the love & humanity the world offers."
