Well, it is done, and I am sad. I refer to my reading of A Cook's Tour: Global Adventures in Extreme Cuisines. I had intended this as a quick, edgy, emotionally-neutral antidote to the gorgeous but heartbreaking The Diving Bell and the Butterfly: A Memoir of Life in Death by Jean-Dominique Bauby. Unprepared for certain overlaps (there is an undeniable French influence throughout A Cook's Tour and upon Anthony Bourdain, who is not the most, er, chipper guy on the planet, and Bauby writes about food more than you would think, and Bourdain's writing gets somewhat existential at times), the second book was not the escape that I had expected it to be. Please do not take that to mean that I did not enjoy it; I loved it. It just was not.... You know how sometimes you go to a restaurant where you've never been before, and you order something that you think you know? And when it comes, it tastes nothing like what you had anticipated, but it is still really, really good? Just a totally different version of terrific? That is what this book was, for me.
I have never been an "adventurous eater." Growing up in a small town - even a college town - in the midwest, not being widely traveled until adulthood (and even now, "widely" is relative only to my upbringing and by comparison to my family and friends), I was not exposed to a variety of cuisines. Hotdish (other people call it "casserole") was a constant; every meal required the following formula: meat + starch + sweet, with extras tacked on as local taste and finances allowed. I am not exaggerating to say that pepper (i.e. pre-ground black pepper) is considered a spice, and an exotic one at that.
In the intervening years (and with greater distance from the home planet), I have developed some appreciation of the outside world. Four years in the grad school state brought a love of Greek that has not yet been satisfied in this time zone. Southern travel converted me to the joys of real barbecue (in its many variations). I now love super-thick, cloyingly cheesy Chicago-style pizza - which cannot bear any resemblance to true Italian cuisine, but holy crap, with good beer, when you're really hungry? Damn. And even moderately spicy Asian food, more often than not, rocks (though I used to think it was too much for my mild taste buds to handle). Ironically, given my slavish adoration for all things Miami, I was not wowed by Cuban food. Overall, it struck me as too sweet, or maybe just not particularly well-defined, if that makes sense? We were in the city for a week and never did have a fantastic meal. I leave open the possibility that we simply close badly and that I would like it better if I tried again.
My point is this: I admire Bourdain's cooking and eating philosophy. Good food is not all about architecturally impossible piles of unpronounceable pretensions, swirled with squeeze-bottled sauce. There is good stuff being made no matter where you are, so try what the area is known for. You may not like it (as he made no bones about disliking various things - bird's nest soup stands out in my mind, as does iguana), but you also may be surprised (as he seemed to be, e.g. by sheep testicles or haggis). What is the point of traveling across the globe if you are going to eat the same Subway sandwich that you have at home? Try something new. If you are lucky, you will find something that you really love.
Like A Cook's Tour.
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