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Jun. 8th, 2020 03:42 pmGrief does not follow calendar dates. I feel like I should know this by now, the way anniversaries of deaths creep up on me and I feel like I should be more emotional about arbitrary round numbers but I’m not. Which is to say, I already had my regular crying jag about Anthony Bourdain being gone earlier this year, after seeing a real stupid tweet about where the food writing about immigrants, coronavirus, and the changing restaurant landscape is because Bourdain and some other white male food journalist aren’t around anymore.
Imagine sticking your foot in your mouth with a tweet like that, where you ignore all the great writing from all around the country about this very thing because it doesn’t get into the rarefied whatever you deign to read and because some white man hasn’t paid attention to it. (And if you’re going to only read the snobby shit, you could at least bring up Helen Rosner at the New Yorker, god.)
I see Tony’s spirit in all the pieces that give other people (especially people of color) center stage to tell their own stories, not just about food or the restaurant business but especially there. He was a facilitator, someone who brought people together to eat and hopefully learn from each other. I wrote a little bit about this when he died. There’s more stuff in the tag if you care to look.
This is all a long-winded way to say I feel like he would be deeply amused to see all the ridiculous nonsense going on in US food media today, especially the Bon Appetit Test Kitchen bullshit. Also, this fucking exchange between British tea companies’ social media accounts and a racist about Black Lives Matter. The weird energy is oddly on-brand.
Imagine sticking your foot in your mouth with a tweet like that, where you ignore all the great writing from all around the country about this very thing because it doesn’t get into the rarefied whatever you deign to read and because some white man hasn’t paid attention to it. (And if you’re going to only read the snobby shit, you could at least bring up Helen Rosner at the New Yorker, god.)
I see Tony’s spirit in all the pieces that give other people (especially people of color) center stage to tell their own stories, not just about food or the restaurant business but especially there. He was a facilitator, someone who brought people together to eat and hopefully learn from each other. I wrote a little bit about this when he died. There’s more stuff in the tag if you care to look.
This is all a long-winded way to say I feel like he would be deeply amused to see all the ridiculous nonsense going on in US food media today, especially the Bon Appetit Test Kitchen bullshit. Also, this fucking exchange between British tea companies’ social media accounts and a racist about Black Lives Matter. The weird energy is oddly on-brand.
