May 4, 2012, 11:15 AM |
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by Anthony Bourdain
Generally speaking, there are two distinct audiences for this show: people who like to look at images of food and are interested in where it comes from and how it got to the plate—and people who like to travel—or like the idea of travel—and enjoy watching images of faraway places and cultures. Oh—and there’s also a smaller group who apparently enjoy watching me get falling down drunk and stupid. But that’s another matter.
This week’s episode is about food. More specifically, it’s about the creative process that leads up to the food that will eventually be served in some of the world’s finest restaurants.
COOK IT RAW is an amazingly low key gathering of some of the best and most creative chefs in the world. For the last few years, people like Rene Redzepi of Denmark’s NOMA (recently named best restaurant in the world for the second year in a row), Alex Atala of Sao Paulo’s DOM, Albert Adria (El BULLI, TICKETS), Mauro Collagreco, Massimo Bottura, Daniel Patterson, David Chang, Magnus Nilsson and others have been getting together in various remote and fairly off the main grid locations where they challenge each other to forage, improvise, figure out what’s good in each location—then, using non-traditional methods—make the most seriously ****ed up creative single plate their fevered imaginations can muster. The result does not have to be usable in a restaurant setting. It is not supposed to be a fully realized dish. It is definitely not something that any of the chefs have ever served or even tried before. It should be something so wild, so out there, so purely creative and exploratory that the other chefs will suck wind and issue a collective “wooaaahhhh.”
For a few days each year, COOK IT RAW serves as a combination workshop, field trip, summer camp for culinary hotshots. And it’s a lot of fun.
This year, COOK IT RAW was held in Ishikawa prefecture in Japan—and NO RESERVATIONS decided to look at the area—-and at the event largely through the eyes of first time invitee to the gathering—and first time visitor to Japan, Charleston South Carolina’s Sean Brock. Sean is a young chef from coal country who in a remarkably short period of time has become a big name in the culinary firmament. At his restaurant HUSK, he’s been trying to rediscover traditional American heritage foods, source ingredients entirely and exclusively from below the Mason Dixon line—and redefine what “real” Southern cooking is—or could-be. He’s a very serious guy (except when he’s not) with impeccable taste in bourbon. Watching him discover Japan for the first time was a true joy.
COOK IT RAW is, unlike any food and wine festival I can think of, about the pure spirit of creativity. There are no public events. No free tastings. After days of exploring local culture and food sourcing methods and techniques—and doing a hell of a lot of eating and drinking, the visiting chefs (along with some local ones), gather (by any means necessary) their ingredients—many of them unfamiliar—and cook. The plates or service “platforms” they put their food on, are created by local craftsmen. The chefs have no say in choice of “plate” and have to accommodate some occasionally very freaky designs. The results of their labors are served to a small group of local and visiting journalists.
There are no winners or losers or grading or official evaluating of the meal. Each chef presents their dish, then retires to the kitchen. Presumably, at some point later—probably over many sakes, or while marinating in the onsen, the chefs discuss among themselves what they’ve learned from the experience.
Kooky. Huh?
Anyway, it should be fascinating TV .
I want to thank the organizers of COOK IT RAW, and of course, the chefs. They had not previously had to live with an invading television crew during their adventures. They were—across the board—friendly, inviting, generous with their time, and fun to be around.
I wish I could say the same for one of the “lions” of the food writing community—someone who (until this trip) I had always liked and looked up to. Over the course of a few days, he revealed himself to be the most vicious, abusive, misogynistic, back-biting piece of shit I have ever met in my life. (and after 30 years in the restaurant business, that’s saying something). I’m hardly the nicest or most polite guy in the world. But even I was shocked. When not shouting profanities at the chefs, bursting into noisy and prolonged bouts of flatulence during the traditional tea ceremony, insulting and belligerently interfering with my crew by petulantly flashing his cell phone camera directly into their eyes while they were working (“I’m a journalist! I’m allowed!”), this guy was drinking himself stupid. It was only through their infinite mercy—and perhaps no small amount of pity for this elderly and shambolic creature, that my crew did not punch his face in. They were sorely tempted. Anyone who attended the event will surely recognize which particular steaming dribble of ordure I’m talking about.
Lesson is? **** with my crew, you **** with me.
On that cheery note, be sure to tune in Monday!
Posted By: hcho
April 15, 2012, 1:23 PM |
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by Anthony Bourdain
I’ve referred only half jokingly over the years to the early days of my television career when, after two seasons of making shows around the world for A COOK’S TOUR, I was advised that audiences just didn’t respond to all those foreign locations where people talked funny and sometimes (horror of horrors) even had to be subtitled. My cruel masters sat back in their chairs and with dreamy, wistful looks suggested how wonderful it would be if I could just confine my interests to shows about tailgate parties, pony rides and….barbecue. “Exotic” locations were problematic, they suggested. They didn’t fit in with their ” current business model.”
Well, after 8 years of NO RESERVATIONS, in which I have been allowed to travel this world unfettered and largely without constraint, I found myself once again thinking, “What’s the most ****ed up thing I can do on the show?” The answer, it seemed, was to embrace the beast. Go right back and do what would have been unthinkable back then (or at any time since): make a show about a subject that every single travel and food show has done a million times, in a place that has been more than adequately covered (as least as relates to slowly smoked meats). Go right to the heart of core Americana—that uniquely All-American genre of cookery called Kansas City Barbecue. And while I was at it, I thought—why not go all the way—attend my very first tailgate party? What could be more unlike me? I’ve been to Saudi Arabia. Tribal Liberia. China. Why couldn’t I embrace this curious and much loved indigenous practice as I had this—just cause it’s American? The plan? To go to Kansas City—and challenge ourselves to making a single subject show—almost entirely about briskets, ribs, pulled pork, sticky sauce—and yet do it in a way that had never been done before. Meaning, I would challenge the fine ZPZ team of talented cinematographers to make Barbecue Porn so extreme, so hardcore, so enticing that we could bring life to even this tired subject. And what would I say about all this? What would be my point of view?
It came to me over late night vodka shots in a Croatian parking lot: ZAMIR!
Who better to explore those most American of subjects than my always optimistic Russian friend? What better way to look at my first tailgate experience than through the fresh, un-jaded eyes of my veteran sidekick for whom America is still a Wonderland of the unfamiliar, strange and fabulous? Lured by possibly misleading promises that he would be trained and groomed to replace me as a television travel host, Zamir was flown to Kansas City where he would be (he was assured) instructed in the dark arts of hosting a food show. On Monday night, you will see the results.
And we would need music. Good music. More importantly, we would need cheap good music. Fortunately, I had recently become aware that the Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney of THE BLACK KEYS were very fond of a good meal and were, after many years on the road, susceptible to offers of free food. In return for a lunch of chicken wings and ribs, they quickly agreed to drive their van from their hometown of Akron Ohio, to Kansas City and join me for an afternoon of bourbon and barbecue.
The tailgate party, by the way, turned out to be something of a mystical experience. The Kansas City Chiefs had not been having a good season when we arrived. Even the most enthusiastic KC fans that day, huddled in the cold parking lot outside the stadium, did not give them much chance against the phenomenally streaking Green Bay Packers. But they hadn’t accounted for the Magical Powers of Zamir. He arrived fully decked in Chiefs colors, waving his giant foam hand and screaming “Let’s Pack the Packers” (while consuming Godawful quantities of Jello shots and bourbon). His unbridled, child-like enthusiasm proved contagious, urging the team on to an unexpected upset. Local talk radio the next day suggested that my Russian friend might have in some way, actually been responsible for this victory. Had he given the Packers the “Evil Eye”? Was he some kind of Eastern European Good Luck Charm? Did he have…”Powers?” The next day, local sports radio spoke in hushed and respectful tones of the bearded Russian who had appeared—supernaturally—in the parking lot prior to the game, spoken in what were described as “tongues” (or possibly gibberish), invoking through some ancient Dark Art, a force that swept across the gridiron that day, and crushed the sons of Lombardi under the Chief’s mighty hooves.
There is a lot more to see—and to eat— in Kansas City than barbecue. But that’s not what we were there for. We had other business: To go where many had gone before. Only do it better. And weirder.
I think, I hope, we succeeded.
Posted By: hcho
April 9, 2012, 7:49 PM |
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by Anthony Bourdain
Eight seasons of NO RESERVATIONS. Who would have guessed? I sure as Hell wouldn’t have. How long could we get away with it? Not very long was the prevailing wisdom. And yet here we are. Nearly 700,000 air miles later, about two thirds of the way through shooting—and it’s looking pretty good. Mozambique—airing tonight—looks SO good, in fact, that our Emmy Award winning cinematographer Zach Zamboni says it’s the finest work he’s ever done. (Personally, I think the upcoming Penang episode is a close contender). Continue reading: Hard 8 »
Posted By: hcho
December 7, 2011, 3:57 PM |
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by Anthony Bourdain
What do Norah Jones, Christopher Walken, the band “ ****edUp”, Vegan Black Metal Chef, Sam Brown, nightmare of Eastern European folklore Krampus, the Catalonian Pooping Log, Dave Arnold, chefs Lidia Bastianich, April Bloomfield, Kurt Gutenbrunner, Eder Montero, Alexandra Raij, Carlos Llaguno Morales and the voices of Adam Richman and Andrew Zimmern have in common?
They all foolishly agreed to appear in our scandalous, dark, action-packed fever dream of a Holiday Show which airs this Monday, December 12th at 10PM—when, presumably, the kiddies will be asleep.
Frankly, I think it’s our finest (and most disturbing and deranged) hour yet, a holiday classic. The above artists were—all of them—heroically good humored and generous with their time. And I’d like to give particular thanks to Sam Brown—whose appearance is particularly fearless, frightening and so far from her “brand” as to make us all look like wussies. Thank you Sam. Never shall I make another snarky remark. You ****in’ rule. Now wash that mouth out with soap. Your language is appalling! Thanks Norah Jones for learning to sing scatological ditties in Catalan—and for all your work on the show. Christopher Walken. Now I can scratch a major item off my bucket list. And the rest of you…I am forever grateful.
Do NOT miss this. Christmas has never been stranger.
Posted By: hcho
August 28, 2011, 10:36 AM |
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I just got back from family vacation, where, for ten days, I violated all my rules and everything I’ve ever preached about how to travel. I stayed put. I rarely left the hotel grounds. I ate in the same two restaurants for most of my trip—rarely deviating from pasta, pizza and gelato. Though there was a lake a few hundred yards walk down, I never put so much as a toe in it—spending the bulk of my days instead, splashing around in the shallow end of the pool with a Barbie pail , an inflatable porpoise, and a relentlessly energetic 4 year old girl. It was marvelous. Continue reading: SOUTHERN COMFORT »
Posted By: anthony bourdain
August 18, 2011, 3:22 PM |
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In the end, we were all fine–as untouched and untroubled as we’d been before Iraq.
If anything changed, if there was a single takeaway from what we saw in Kurdistan and what we learned during three days of “Hazardous Environment Training” in what our British instructors called “Virginiastan”, it was the absolutely jaw-dropping realization of exactly how physically difficult it is for our military personnel on the ground in Iraq and Afghanistan.And I’m not talking about the fighting. I’m talking about just being there, moving about in regulation gear, training. the day-to-day. Watching on TV and in films, perhaps you realize intellectually that the standard issue body armor, with the ceramic plates weighs around 45 pounds, but until you actually wear the stuff, much less try and help carry the slippery dead weight of an unconscious man across broken ground, you have no idea. Add the additional burden of an M-16, ammunition, pack and gear, Kevlar helmut and you’re already humping about 95 pounds of additional weight through heat that, in Iraq and Saudi Arabia, reaches well over 110 degrees. The body armor doesn’t exactly breath. You’re running sweat within seconds–just standing still. Presumably, you are being trained to–at moment’s notice, hoist a similarly attired buddy over your shoulder and carry his weight as well. It’s damn near superhuman. And that’s before you’ve ever had to fire a shot in anger. In the back of your mind too, I came to find out, is the certain knowledge that none of this heavy armor–not the Kevlar vest, not the ceramic plates—and not the helmut–will protect you in the slightest from an AK-47 round. Nor will a cinderblock wall. A bullet from an AK, the most widely used weapon on the planet, will cut through all of it like cheddar. Continue reading: SAFETY FIRST »
Posted By: anthony bourdain
August 6, 2011, 7:34 PM |
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Dear Camille,
I hear you were very upset with me after seeing the promo for this show, which I filmed recently with your Daddy and his friends. You saw me take Daddy’s guitar and smash it against a tree and I’m sure that was upsetting. That this was in fact a not so subtle homage to the early works of John Landis and John Belushi is something you could have hardly been expected to know, ANIMAL HOUSE having been released long before you were born, and I apologize. Continue reading: DESERT SESSION: A Letter to Josh Homme’s Daughter »
Posted By: anthony bourdain
July 29, 2011, 10:02 AM |
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It all began with Ferran Adria in more ways than one. It was because he reached out to me in 2001, invited me to come see him (in spite of the fact that I had written unflatteringly of him in Kitchen Confidential) that my partnership with zero point zero production began. It was because he agreed to throw his life, his restaurant, his workshop and creative process open to our cameras that we began our first venture in independent television production. It was because of him–and Food Network’s lack of interest in an El Bulli show–that Chris Collins, Lydia Tenaglia and I went out on our own, reached into our pockets and funded that first bare bones trip to Spain to shoot what later became the film (and subsequent episode of No Reservations), “Decoding Ferran Adria”. It was Ferran, who, truth be told, became the impetus for our show, now in its 7th year. And it was Ferran who was responsible for my meeting Chef Jose Andres when he showed up at an early screening of the film as his US representative. I can well remember Jose standing up at the end of the film and announcing to the audience his approval. It was a very proud moment for me. In those days, when Jose’s mouth moved, it often seemed that Spain was speaking. That kind of generosity should come as no surprise to anyone who has ever known or worked with Ferran Adria or his brother, Albert. They have always shared, never clung jealously to their hard won creations. And once again, in spite of the world world banging at their door, looking to get one last meal, one last interview, one last meal at their legendary restaurant, once again, they opened their lives to me. Continue reading: A BEGINNING. AN END »
Posted By: anthony bourdain
July 22, 2011, 10:00 AM |
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Growing up in New Jersey back in the bad old days of American gastronomy, “Italian” food inevitably meant the same thing, wherever you found it: deep fried, breaded and pounded veal cutlets, swimming in red sauce with a raft of gluey semi-melted cheese on top, overcooked spaghetti, usually pre-prepared in large batches, rinsed of its starches in cold water, reheated and then indifferently topped with a ladle of the same red sauce as above. Enormous, bready meatballs, fragrant with dried oregano, baked ziti the consistency of caulking compound.. Continue reading: THE RED SAUCE TRAIL »
Posted By: anthony bourdain
July 11, 2011, 2:18 PM |
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Say what you want about Castro–(we CAN, after all, Cubans not so much)–he managed, through design or neglect, to keep Havana beautiful.
Run down, crumbling, many buildings barely habitable–even the national baseball team has to play during the day because their stadium lights are broken and the country is too poor to fix them. Where things barely work, where time is arrested, where a failed ideology wheezes along on life support long after its inventors and sponsors abandoned it–at least, at least Havana is un-****ed by time. Where Moscow and St Petersburg brim with newly uglified buildings, malls, and the old cookie cutter concrete blocks leftover from the workers’ paradise, Havana looks like a shabbier but still gorgeous version of its older self. When it all changes, as it surely shall, I hope Havana’s waterfront, the malecon, the old hotels, the facades, the Nacional, the Tropicana, the cars–they remain–at least in appearance and design–the same. I’d hate to see fast food signs, the boutique hotels, bottle service, frat bars and canary yellow Lamborginis of the douche side of Miami. When everybody’s wired and connected and chatting freely, watching 500 channels of cable and voting their minds, I hope the mojitos don’t start coming in sno-cone form, the old neighborhoods dug up for golf courses or water parks.
It’s easy, I know, to over-romanticize the unspoiled. Especially when “unspoiled” means “poor”. But look. Look.
Whatever your politics, however you feel about Cuba–look at tonight’s show and admit, at least, that Havana is beautiful. It is the most beautiful city of Latin America or the Caribbean. Look at the Cuban people and admit that they are proud and big hearted and funny and kind–and strong as hell, having put up with every variety of bullshit over the years. On these things, I hope we can agree.
Posted By: anthony bourdain
