The suicide of Anthony Bourdain - "Your body is not a temple. It's an amusement park. Enjoy the ride."
A Chef by passion, conviction, training. Eating and drinking his way around the globe. Slim. A bad boy, tattooed. A gentleman, smoking cigarettes, downing Negronis. Kitchen, books, Foodnetwork, Travel Channel, CNN. An unmatched acumen for exploring cultures in a discourse about food and its meaning. A life first lived in the kitchen to please the palates of others, 20 years of getting his ass kicked and kicking asses. An icon in New York City’s culinary underworld. Followed by a lifestyle in the air, a globetrotter, a global citizen who understood the power of food, bringing people together. At home in New York City. A hard worker, a neck-breaking schedule around the globe. Lonely, restless, a bird without roots. A sentimentality, a broken heart, a suicide. A dream come true, as he himself admitted. A dream of having landed a job that made him millions, turned him into a household name, gave him the freedom to travel and explore. To get to know the unknown parts. Always chasing food. That would assure him, yes, he was alive. No food too exotic, too forbidden, always a beer. His inability, unwillingness to understand vegetarians, vegans. Always comfortable around food, not so much around human beings. A true passionate leader who exerted influence over his followers, enticing the sitting US President to have noodle soup and beer in a local kitchen in Hanoi. Kult status during his lifetime. He couldn't have cared less about his alleged stardom, refusing to have his name marketed with merchandise. A voice that spoke to a global audience and carried a message the world needs to hear today more than ever: that we are all humans, that we need to eat, and that the best way to do so, is together.
Anthony Bourdain took his own life one year ago today.
© Axel Weber 2021-10-03