I was shocked to hear of the sad death of Anthony Bourdain from suicide. He was chef turned world traveler journalist. Who on weekends would take us away from the depressing news on CNN to foreign lands introducing us to their foods and culture. He'd eat exotic foods no matter how unthinkable to most of us. His show ran the gamut from fine dining to roadside truck food in sketchy neighborhoods.
He traveled to places I'd never heard of or wouldn't even consider visiting, bypassing the confines of tourist territories to urban neighborhoods or remote villages to experience the people even if potential danger existed there. It was like receiving a unique geography lesson on video with images that would make it easy to pass the test.
He schooled us on global cuisines as well as their history both past and current. I think of him in terms of an Ernest Hemingway kind of character. A disheveled soul with whom one could get totally sloshed with. At 61 years old with a trim body and no body fat, considering the loads of carbs he consumed, lived life to the fullest; from busboy to chef, to author, to journalist and TV show host. The words he narrated for his show was always personal and never sounded like it came from a battery of writers tucked away in some smoky room somewhere.
Anthony truly lived and has a legacy to prove it. He fascinated many he came in contact with which turned out to be mutual. Who knows what demons he dealt with to take his life, supposedly it was the return of an angry cancer. In some of the tributes, I've heard he appears to have been a loner. A tortured soul even. Unfortunately, those are the ones that do great things. Rest in peace, Mr. Bourdain.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1.800.273.8255 #RIPAnthonyBourdain