Like a DVR whose contents never get erased, Blair Bodie's piece is clogged with references to actual episodes. (Blair: Please tell us you have a really good memory, and aren't watching old Tony shows over and over again, like that creepy stalker girl watching that dude in Swimfan.) Now, we know Blair's entry might stir controversy -- technically, she did slightly exceed the 60-word limit we asked for (okay, she exceeded it by a lot). But she's so passionate, so informed, so fascinatingly OCD, we couldn't resist. Forgive us? Please?
Anthony Bourdain is simply the Iggy Pop of the epicurean circuit. He is the anti-celebrity chef who shows sommeliers the superiority of brewmeisters, and elevates meat-on-a-stick to filet mignon status. He doesn't dilly dally with presentation but gets down to the sensuality of food, making Connecticut cheese into food porn and the suckling pig of New Orleans something to be missed in the exotica of Sri Lanka. [Okay, we have no idea what this means.] Tony wastes no time in the kitchen, instead he fulfills all of our wanderlusts by white-water rafting in the Cahama River of New Mexico, cooking food in the geysers of the Azores, and conjuring memories of Lawrence of Arabia while riding on a camel's back in Saudi. While other chefs keep their business on the stove, Bourdain is eating on the right side of the law with CIA agents in Chadwick's of DC, and then showing us the land of gangster chefs going to battle over goose liver, or foie gras if you will, in the Windy City. Basically, Bourdain's eccentric approach to food teaches all how life should be lived: on the cutting edge of simplicity, saturated in the spice of life, and satiated by our tastes. When it comes to this man, I have no reservations.