Monday, January 17, 2011

Tony B. and Food

      While reading about Anthony Bourdain's travels, I was struck by the seeming differences between America and the rest of the world. Bourdain takes note of this as well. I'm sure 99% of urban Americans, myself included, have never seen their food before it's been transformed into neat blocks sitting plastic-wrapped on yellow styrofoam in the local Meijer. I almost envy Bourdain's experience of seeing a pig being slaughtered and eating its meat two feet away. My own food consumption is mostly unthinking. I eat the cheap chicken in Meijer even though it may have been force-fed steroids in a factory farm, I eat the cheap beef because I've never seen a cow being raised and slaughtered. I'm very disconnected from my food. I need a shock, I think. I need to see a factory farm in action. I need to see a pig raised for six months and brutally slaughtered. I need to see how my food is killed, prepared and packaged. Maybe after I see one end of the spectrum in factory farms in America, and the other in local sheep in Scotland (hopefully), I'll be better equipped to make some sort of choice about my meat eating. Maybe I'm too reliant on lived experience for my lifestyle. Or I'm just lazy.
     Well, back to Anthony. I thought that one of the book's strongest parts was the seamless way that Bourdain melded place and food together. He usually begins his description of his new locale with a description of a person or an event that was taking place. In Russia he begins with the fighters in the club, San Sebastian with him walking down the street with Luis. His focus on location and setting before food really emphasizes the importance of place in the food he is eating. Each and every place he goes to he tries something totally unique to that area that wouldn't have existed if the specific culture and location of that place hadn't existed how they did. This breadth of description also makes his chapters extremely vivid and interesting. I might just be a stickler for imagery and description, but I think that those are two of the most important narrative devices in creating a vivid story. This kind of description would have made "Stealing Buddha's Dinner" so much more enjoyable for me. None of the locations in that story really stuck in my mind the way Bourdain's travels do.
     I really enjoyed the background Bourdain gave on all the different ethnic foods he was tasting. I have no idea what any of the dishes he names in their local dialect are, let alone many of the fancier English titles dishes or ingredients. So far my experience with this book has been great. I love reading about exactly what Bourdain is writing about; exotic and interesting cuisine and places. He manages to be very respectful of the cultures and foods he encounters, most likely because he relishes their diversity. He seems to want nothing more than to taste every possible combination of animal entrails and exotic fruits and vegetables in whatever combination a culture can invent.

5 comments:

  1. Not only are Americans so far removed from the animal their meat comes from, they also waste so much! It seems like every other country Bourdain visits uses animals so much more efficiently. Admittedly, the thought of being served cow hoof or chicken feet sounds disgusting to me--but we've all been socialized to think so.

    Although Bourdain might have rubbed me the wrong way at first, I agree with you that he does a spectacular job at inviting his readers into different countries and cultures through his vivid descriptions of food and atmosphere. He's practically an anthropologist!

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  2. Loved your response to the first half of the book, Max. Imagery and description are, indeed, crucial to good storytelling--and Bourdain is one heck of a storyteller. I'm curious, though, why you didn't see imagery and description as central to Stealing Buddha's dinner. Is it perhaps because she was describing something closer to home? Do we open our eyes and ourselves more fully to "new" and "strange" experiences? What does that say about us? Could we approach things we know with greater openness and interest? What if every meal were a travel experience?

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  3. Max, I completely agree with you. I too, feel super disconnected from the food I eat, particularly when it comes to meat. With all the emphasis on local food, eating "green," and living sustainable lifestyles, you'd think Americans would be more food conscious. Sadly, that is not the case. I think we all learned something significant from Bourdain's book, as well as the pig slaughter video we watched today in class.

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  5. Max! I want to talk about imagery and description too: I thought that was the most important part of "A Cook's Tour" and that it some how stood out as something genuine even though it was subjective, among all of Bourdain's provoking commentary... I think that I noticed it less in "Stealing Buddha's Dinner" because I didn't need to retreat to it, to take solace in something kinder. I also would buy that we're less interested in what we see around us all of the time... in which case writing memoir is going to be an entirely different beast, no? Nothing hits closer to home than... home? Do you see that as an interesting project, or is it something you disconnect from? (I'm struggling, personally, to find that balance.)

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