Getting out of my comfort zone and trying new things is an uphill battle. I’m a person who’s constantly plagued by anxiety and has a very overactive mind. My talent and biggest vice is imagining every scenario possible for each moment of my life.
I anticipate the potential outcomes of every step I take, every food I eat and every place I go. While crossing the street, I imagine a car coming toward me, and when I try a new food, I imagine having an unanticipated allergic reaction. My life is filled with constant second-guessing and anxiety.
As I get older, I often find myself in unfamiliar scenarios I would have never imagined I could conquer due to my anxieties. I’ve made friends with strangers, eaten unfamiliar food in others people’s kitchens and explored places I grew up dreaming about — all because of Anthony Bourdain.
Anthony Bourdain, a chef, writer and TV personality, was a person who inspired me. His most popular show, “No Reservations,” aired when I was an infant. It followed Bourdain as he explored different tastes and cultures across the world.
He’d often find himself in the rice fields of Vietnam having a family meal with strangers. Other times, he walked through the streets of New York City, enjoying the tastes of his home. With every step, he would crack a joke and smoke a cigarette while ambling down a crowded street.
As a child, what enticed me the most about Bourdain was his reactions to the situations he experienced. He always expressed the same emotion throughout his travels: fear.
He would often turn to the camera and state he didn’t want to eat the unique food sitting in front of him, or express his worry about freezing to death in Siberia. Bourdain would make a snarky retort about eating fermented shark or drinking snake blood.
Yet, after all of those moments of doubt, another emotion followed: resolve.
He always took a bite, met a stranger and explored a solemn desert. As a young child riddled with constant, stomach-churning fear, I’d be turned away and in awe of such painstaking passion. I asked myself how and why a person would do that to themselves.
Bourdain died of suicide in June 2018. It wasn’t until his passing that I recalled such childhood moments and rewatched all of his shows that summer. This time around, it seemed like he embarked on all of those adventures to face his anxieties and revel in his discomfort.
His ambition to try it all drew me in. I was a moth to his unabashed flame.
I thought Anthony Bourdain had the best job in the world. He traveled across the globe, met people with an amalgamation of backgrounds and ate good food.
I began to imagine myself as a writer traveling the world, chasing my next story. So, I went to college intending to be like Anthony Bourdain — a writer and traveler extraordinaire. I figured that diving in and holding no bar would be the best way to face my anxiety.
This past summer, I recalled my joys of Bourdain and dove back into his world while traveling alone through Ireland. I read his book “Kitchen Confidential,” which reveals his experiences and struggles with mental illness throughout his life, along with the secrets of restaurant life. All of this was written at 44 years of age, when he was beginning his claim to fame. He later wrote more books and was the star of multiple Food Network shows.
Throughout the book, as he was reaching new heights in his accomplishments, he only brought forth an air of toxicity to the work culture he was a part of in the kitchen. At one point, Bourdain spoke about a chef he fired who later committed suicide due to his job loss, saying, “The guy had to go,” then stated that the man would have died no matter what he did, so he didn’t feel remorse.
Although Bourdain later expressed guilt for glorifying the kitchen culture, it felt surreal knowing his eventual fate.
When I finished “Kitchen Confidential,” a weight sank in; it felt as though I had taken a sip of liquid mercury. It took several days and a conversation with a friend to figure out why this book had such a big impact on my life.
Perhaps my love for Bourdain was more of a love of my future and my aspirations. Maybe I was blinded by my own dreams of traveling the world that I completely missed that Bourdain was a middle-aged chef, chasing stories to potentially run from his demons. At times, I probably see parts of myself in Bourdain.
Maybe I was scared that, like Icarus, Bourdain flew too close to his sun. I understand that he spoke of regret for his fame and career late in his life before he died. But sometimes, when I watch back his early episodes of “A Cook’s Tour” or “No Reservations,” I see a traveler, not just a tourist.
Although his work was inspirational, exploratory and overall exceptional journalism, it felt like this realization opened a new perspective for me.
His life, death, and work present a new lesson for me every time I revisit them. Yes, I should confront my fears and talk to strangers while eating a good meal, but I should do it for self-fulfillment and to face my anxieties rather than as a way of escapism.
Be the first to comment