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I’m sad. I watched his shows for years, and his irascibility, his lack of patience, and his joy, his love of food and ideas and people, all mixed together into a stew I could chew. It took me a long time to understand that he wasn’t a snob, though he was a jerk.
Bourdain was a writer, the real thing. He was a connoisseur not just of food, but of the people and cultures that produced the food. I watched “No Reservations” and thought, what a talented jerk. I watched Parts Unknown, and thought, wow. Just watch the episode about the Congo. Or Saudi Arabia. Some of the things I saw and heard through him were startling.
an expert judge in matters of taste.
“a connoisseur of music”
synonyms: expert, authority, specialist, pundit, savant;
Even when he smiled, his eyes looked sad. He also looked tough, rough, like he’d had enough of the bad stuff. His pure delight in the good things shone through every episode he produced, his real interest in the people and places he explored.