A Cook's Cultural Tourism

Meredith Ashton

Reading Response

A Cook’s Tour

26 September 2016

A Cook’s Cultural Tourism

             Anthony Bourdain’s novel A Cook’s Tour depicts his travels around the globe in search of the “magical” perfect meal. Bourdain defines magical food as cuisine that can transport you through time and has an element of simplicity and purity, such as the French oysters he ate as a child. He also stresses the necessity of knowing from where your food comes, and the richness of knowledge and history that come from using all parts of an animal, like the slaughtering of the Portuguese pig in the first chapter. Finally, Bourdain requires that his perfect meal contain an element of daring and adventure. He travels the globe in search of not just good recipes, but thrilling dining experiences, such as the spa and ice bath that accompanies his meal of black bread and vodka in Russia.

            In the chapter “Back to the Beach,” Bourdain tries to recreate past meals and memories which are innately interwoven with his childhood summers in France. Bourdain returns to the same beach town home with his little brother to eat the same food and have the same adventures as they did when they were boys. While an enjoyable venture, Bourdain continues to emphasize that his experiences fall short; he feels as though he is lacking something essential. Through this process of reconnection, the reader discovers that for Bourdain, France and food are interlaced with memories of his father, who has since passed away. In attempting this recreation, Bourdain set himself up for failure, which is a fact he acknowledges by the end of the chapter. He writes “I’d recreated, as best I could, all the factors present in my youth. But once again, I felt restrained from pure enjoyment,” (Bourdain 42). The oyster, that “perfect damn meal” from Bourdain’s youth that set him off on his wild trek to becoming a world-class chef, would never taste as inspirational as the first time the chilly brine touched his tongue.

            As in France, Bourdain continues to take his preconceived notions about other cultures and cuisines to the countries to which he travels. Bourdain has, as many of us do, a set schema of what other countries should be like, which is informed by knowledge of past history and popular cultural beliefs in the United States. He writes “So far, Russia had been everything I’d wanted it to be. It was the Russia of my dreams and adolescent fantasies that I was looking for,” (79). Clearly, Bourdain has characterized all of Russian culture based off of his experiences growing up in America during the Cold War and reports on television. It’s all well and good when a country and its cuisine meets his expectations, but when a culture doesn’t quite line up with his schema, Bourdain behaves in a very unsettled manner.

            After a casual afternoon of exploring a Vietnamese market, Bourdain happens upon a man whose entire body is encased with scar tissue; the victim of a napalm burn during the Vietnamese war. Bourdain says “Everything I eat will taste like ashes now. Fuck writing books. Fuck making television. I’m unable even to give the man money,” (64). It is in these shocking moments of clarity that Bourdain is acutely aware of his role as a cultural tourist. While he does his best to be respectful to his hosts and their cuisine, and be aware of his privilege, he still falls into the trap of believing popular assumptions and applying them to an entire culture of individuals.