I love to watch Alton Brown, Gordon Ramsay, and Andrew Zimmern. But my foodie heart belongs to Anthony Bourdain.
He is cranky, irreverent, and often inappropriate. He comes on strong, with no apologies. When he walks into the Top Chef kitchen, the young chefs' faces fall immediately. They know that he won't hold back - if something tastes like rubbery doll parts to him, he is going to say so.
Despite his gruff and intimidating demeanor, he has complete respect and love for food. On his Travel Channel show "No Reservations", he takes his audience all over the world, going into the heart of a community with eyes wide open, but never losing his New Yorkishness. He loves to eat. He loves to drink. He loves to go as local as possible. He often collapses in his hotel room in a food and alcohol-induced coma.
His personality is so big, that it is easy to overlook the fact that he is a really good writer.
Failure has a stench all its own. It smells like fear ... and shame. I may have been conveniently removed from the burning wreckage inspired by last week's experiment, happily narcotized in a pressurized cabin on its way to Manila, but the odor followed me just the same.
Oh, Tony. Let me crawl into your suitcase, just once! I will make sure that your glass is never empty, and that you have a captive audience for your rants and observations. And I will never, ever let you get pummeled by a male masseuse.
