Remembering Anthony Bourdain

The Jackson Heights neighborhood of Queens is typically my thoroughfare, a point “B” between my home and LaGuardia Airport. It’s where I’ve stood with my luggage dozens of times while waiting for the shuttle at the stop sandwiched between a Korean bakery and a Colombian one. My interest in the area was never particularly piqued until I remembered that this time last year, I was mourning the death of Anthony Bourdain.

Food played a critical role in my family’s life; my mother’s meals have conciliatory effects similar to the 1914 Christmas truce. I found kinship with Bourdain in the idea that life ought to surround the stomach’s yearning, watching every episode of Parts Unknown and reading his book Kitchen Confidential. On June 8, 2018, there was one fewer irreverent gourmand who narrated the primitive act of eating in a way that made it transcend the utility of survival. Food was communication, experience, and experiment for all who dared. And Bourdain did plenty of daring, which I loved him for, although I’m aware that our politics, lifestyles, and demeanors are generally asymmetric.

About the Author

Marlo Safi

Marlo Safi is a Pittsburgh-based writer and a former Collegiate Network fellow with National Review.

The Jackson Heights neighborhood of Queens is typically my thoroughfare, a point “B” between my home and LaGuardia Airport. It’s where I’ve stood with my luggage dozens of times while waiting for the shuttle at the stop sandwiched between a Korean bakery and a Colombian one. My interest in the area was never particularly piqued until I remembered that this time last year, I was mourning the death of Anthony Bourdain.

Food played a critical role in my family’s life; my mother’s meals have conciliatory effects similar to the 1914 Christmas truce. I found kinship with Bourdain in the idea that life ought to surround the stomach’s yearning, watching every episode of Parts Unknown and reading his book Kitchen Confidential. On June 8, 2018, there was one fewer irreverent gourmand who narrated the primitive act of eating in a way that made it transcend the utility of survival. Food was communication, experience, and experiment for all who dared. And Bourdain did plenty of daring, which I loved him for, although I’m aware that our politics, lifestyles, and demeanors are generally asymmetric.