Anthony Bourdain in his own words
A life exploring the unknown
The more places I see and experience, the bigger I realize the world to be. The more I become aware of, the more I realize how relatively little I know of it, how many places I have still to go, how much more there is to learn. Maybe that’s enlightenment enough -- to know that there is no final resting place of the mind, no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom, at least for me, means realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go.
No Reservations
I was born at New York Presbyterian Hospital in New York City in 1956, but I grew up in the leafy green bedroom community of Leonia, New Jersey.
I did not want for love or attention. My parents loved me. Neither of them drank to excess. Nobody beat me. God was never mentioned -- so I was annoyed by neither religion nor church nor any notions of sin or damnation.
Medium Raw
New Jersey, too, was exotic to me once. For much of my childhood. The then-working class riviera of Barnegat Light where I spent many happy summers. The dark mysteries of off-season, pre-casino Atlantic City with its vast, empty hotels, novelty shops, boardwalk, saltwater taffy and amusement pier. ... The fabled Pine Barrens, where untold horrors waited amidst the discarded gangsters and mythical, griffon-like creatures said to feast on little boys.
… So, to me, much maligned New Jersey was always magic.
My first indication that food was something other than a substance one stuffed in one’s face when hungry -- like filling up at a gas station -- came after fourth-grade elementary school. It was on a family vacation to Europe. …
It was the soup.
It was cold.
This was something of a discovery for a curious fourth-grader whose entire experience of soup to this point had consisted of Campbell’s cream of tomato and chicken noodle. …
But that cold soup stayed with me. It resonated, waking me up, making me aware of my tongue, and in some way, preparing me for future events.
Kitchen Confidential
People confuse me. Food doesn’t. I know what I’m looking at when I see a perfect loin of number one tuna. … Color, flavor, texture, composition … and personal history. … I know what I see. And I understand it. It makes perfect sense.
Kitchen Confidential
I ended up with a show titled, like the book, A Cook’s Tour. … I had assumed my involvement with television would last no longer than the time it took me to write the book. And yet, amazingly enough, the show was picked up for a second season. … I have to admit, I grew to like this life -- roaming the globe in search of nothing more than food and kicks … I became seduced by the world -- and the freedom that television had given me -- to travel it as I wished.
Medium Raw
Your memories: ‘He inspired me’
Bourdain’s life in pictures
If you or someone you know is having thoughts of suicide, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK.
Credits
Story by Jacque Smith, Bree Hare, Nick Scott and Amy Cox
Design by Mark Barilla and CNN Design
Development by Marco Chacón