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No Reservations in Portland (Part 2): Tony, The Anti-Celebrity Chef
Posted by extramsg on Friday, June 16, 2006 @ 06:41:46 PDT
Contributed by extramsg
There's certainly no money, and more infamy than fame, associated with this website. But occasionally there are perks. When Bourdain's crew rolled into town I had already been working behind the scenes to find them a place to shoot their dinner with tattooed cooks. I recommended a few places and they decided on Apizza Scholls. Diane, the person who makes sure everything comes together for the episode, asked if there was anything I'd like as a thank you from New York. I thought it'd be cruel to make her bring an entire brisket from Katz's on the plane, so I said no. It was no different than the help I'd given (and been given by) fellow food geeks online many times before.
Finally, though, after a couple "are you sures", I did think of one thing: an interview (which follows). I only asked for 15 minutes, but they offered a half hour. They also suggested that I ride with them over to dinner and hang out. I didn't pass that up. Besides, Tony was driving, which he seems to prefer whenever he's sober enough, and they'd need a navigator who actually knew where the restaurant was. My friend, Pam, who had originally recommended me to Diane also got to go.
Photos
The first thing I noticed was that Tony, and that's what he expected everyone to call him, was the same off camera as on. He's not one to be fawned over. There's no makeup gal making sure he has rosey cheeks or that every hair is in place. He doesn't fellate a comb ala Paul Wolfowitz in Farenheit 911 before the cameras roll. Really, he just takes off and starts looking at stuff while the camera people try to keep up.
His crew consists of only four people: Diane, the segment producer, and three camera people, Tracey, Todd, and Jerry. Two cameras from opposing angles are on him at any one time. There's no sound person, just the shotgun mics on the cameras themselves. The third camera is usually off shooting B-roll of exteriors and food prep.
Each of them were welcoming, happy to explain their work, eager to tell stories about Tony and their travels. And Tony was eager to return the favor. More than once I got to hear the story about Tracey's moment of fame. After walking through leech-infested waters, she had to drop her drawers and be filmed while Tony removed the blood-sucker. And Bourdain likes to make the point that her underwear were inside out.
Like most good storytellers, Tony tells and re-tells, each time a little different, usually a little better. He seems to enjoy telling the stories, getting a reaction. But he really lights up hearing the stories of those he associates with, those he used to be 20 years ago, the "criminals" working the line in kitchens for little pay and no glory except bragging rights with their compadres.
As the tattooed and their guests arrived, we sat in a large circle, people asking Tony questions, exchanging stories, etc. One of the tattooed showed off his skills with a yo-yo. Tony smiled from ear to ear and laughed out loud when the young guy exhibited the "Bobby Flay", which looked like a yo-yo driven masturbation device.
Tony filmed his tattoo first, a bloody knife on his right shoulder blade. Then each of his guests followed. One girl's entire back was covered in a seascape, Mermaid included. Another's inner forearm had the Morton salt emblem. The inner forearms were popular. One guy had a long knife tattooed on each, while another had the three step chopsticks how-to inked in.
The pizza was great. Brian Spangler even made a special version of his bacon bianca with littleneck clams cooked in their shells on top of the pizza so that they opened and spilled their juices onto the pie. Tony was impressed, noting more than once that no one in New York is such a perfectionist that they make all their dough by hand.
After dinner, Tony was up for a little liquor. A couple doors down we headed to Mt. Tabor, where he was in his element. Smoking, booze, funky -- '80s rock, punk, and new wave spun on vinyl. Even songs by The Clash. Diane impressed (or scared) me by knowing every verse to every '80s hit that came up. Her and a random guy even sang a duet of One Night in Bangkok.
After Tony was nearly French-kissed by a drunken Brian Spangler, we left and I guided them back to The Heathman. I wish I could have interviewed Bourdain the next day after I had built some repoire. As it is, I was pretty nervous not having given a real interview before, especially to someone who gets interviewed so often. I've edited some of it, but most of it is here. Some of the questions are lame, but even with some of the poorer ones, Bourdain had a way of making the answers interesting.
On Portland
So you've been shooting in Portland yesterday and today. What did you eat, what did you see, what did you do?
I went to the fantastic Voodoo Doughnuts -- extraordinary -- that maple bacon doughnut they serve is evil -- in a good way. Saw some good mushrooms at the [Hillsdale] farmers market today. Where else have I eaten? I really haven't eaten that many places yet. Going to Apizza Scholls tonight. And Chef Phillipe Boulot and his crew are putting together a camp dinner -- we're going camping up on Mt. Hood....
So were there any interesting folks over at Voodoo last night?
It was pretty quiet. It was just starting out when we were there. We wanted to pay attention to the entire spectrum of the doughnut arts.
So you're not doing a fishing trip with any stunt salmon or going on an ATV ride up the Oregon Coast?
Oh, god, no. Well, let's hope that we make it through camping without incident. With my luck I'll get attacked by a bear.
A hook in the eye if you go fishing...
Well the crew loves that. Mishap -- that's video gold.
So how many times have you been to Portland?
This must be my fourth or fifth. Yeah, I've been here on book tour a number of times.
You had a dinner at Heathman last year...
Yeah, and there was an all offal dinner that Phillipe put together for me here two or three years ago that was really fun....
I think the offal thing was good because it was perfect for what I do and it suits me just right. The thing sold out and it was great to see who came. There were kind of three groups. There were people who clearly never had that before -- never really had offal before. It was all new. You know they were coming to see the event and figured, okay, I'll give it a try. There were older poeple who like that stuff and travelled a lot through Europe and so it was an answered prayer for them -- Francofiles, people who travelled in Europe and have happy memories of eating that stuff. So there was a fair number of those people. Then there were these young kids who were just really motivated cooks into it, who haven't been exposed to it, but have no prejudices against it at all and, in fact, are inclined to think it sounds cool who probably, especially at that time, didn't see it a lot on menus.
There was one guy who drove like 400 miles -- him and his girlfriend -- some young cook from I don't know where, maybe Wisconsin or something, who drove here for it, and ate everything on the menu. He took every choice on the menu and ate them all and seemed very happy about it. So seldom in my travels do I actually get to do good works, but I felt good about that. He [Boulot] makes some money, I sell some books, and I actually get to spread enlightenment.
So do you think you've gotten a chance to get a feel for Portland, yet, how it differs from the rest of the country?
I wouldn't be so presumptuous to sum it up, but I definitely got a strong impression the first time I came here that -- man -- there are a lot of cooks here and a lot of highly motivated cooks and a lot of really goofy, dangerous, young, slacker, goth, metal-head looking cooks who are really on it, really motivated, really serious about what they're doing. It's not like me I just fell in the business as a dishwasher because I liked the lifestyle. These people want to be good. They want to cook well. They're serious, they're passionate. I guess the word is they're really passionate about food -- often very specific types of foods. That really struck me first. And then when I started to ask around, "Why here?" I think that if you walk around the green markets, the farmers markets, you get a partial answer to that.
You know, you have a fairly permissive government, a fairly welcoming area, which is good for cooks. You know, high tolerance for bad behavior is always attractive to cooks. But the ingredients around here are so fantastic and the number of people who aren't cooks, but are passionate about -- you know job change -- the people who quit a job to make cheese or bread or forage for mushrooms. That's very unique.
I would think in many ways Portland would be a good fit for you. You can wear jeans anywhere. I don't think there's a restaurant in town where I haven't worn shorts.
That's a huge advantage, too. I think it's fair to say a lot of chefs feel as I do. We've just had it with pretention and pomposity. There's something not conducive to enjoying yourself at a meal when you have to sit there in a straight jacket with a tie cinched up to your neck. That's very uncomfortable. Really good food in a casual environment at decent prices -- that's good for customers. That only feeds into -- when you have an enthusiastic dining public, which you clearly do because there are so many restaurants here, that makes fertile ground for chefs. And since the dynamic of cooking has changed so much since it became a glamour profession, it's good that chefs are often taking the lead these days in deciding what you're going to eat. That's a first in history. Always chefs responded to what their cruel masters wanted. Now chefs are actually sitting down and deciding. They're saying, "You know what, next year my customers are gonna be eating pork belly, in fact everybody's gonna be eating pork belly, and they're gonna like it, and they're gonna pay a lot for it, they're gonna want it, and they're going to brag about having it," and they can make that happen.
Do you think that's partially the result of people like yourself and even people that you somewhat disdain like the Emeril's and the Bobby Flays of the world?
I think you can look at people like Mario Batali who really highlighted it at the restaurants, who used that fame and panache of being on TV, that cache of being on TV to get people to eat things they might not have otherwise eaten.
You're going to Seattle next, is that right? Are you going to eat at Batali's dad's place?
Absolutely. I think Salumi should be a national monument. They should put yellow police tape a block in every direction around it to protect that thing like a national monument. Absolutely incredible -- everything good about the world is encapsulated by that man and that restaurant, that operation. It's historic. Look at the influence that place has -- how many people are curing their own meat now. That's a perfect place. That's a happy man -- a guy who left Boeing as an engineer late in life and said, "You know what, I'm going to go out and learn how to make -- you know, really make -- Italian cured meats," and went out and did it. He's using spectacular amounts of the total supply of pork cheeks in the entire Pacific Northwest. I love that.
I love it, too, because the Pacific Northwest has a sort of reputation in New York of being crunchy granola, more likely to be vegetarians with the hippies. They forgot about the anarchist element and apparently anarchists eat bacon.
I was going to ask you about that -- if Portland has a reputation outside of the Northwest.
Among chefs, certainly, and I would guess among serious foodies. But particularly among chefs.... Any serious reader of food-related magazines would know, on any food-related website that long ago became clear. Not just Portland, but Seattle, Vancouver -- that whole area has a very high reputation.
We talked about the lack of pretentiousness. Portlanders love comfort foods and they love simple foods and they have often looked down at more haute cuisine restaurants...
I think there's room here for haute cuisine here as long just as you serve it over a sushi bar or family style. You get the price down by eliminating all the nonsense -- get rid of the sommelier, the crystal, the white tablecloths, all of that -- serve it on bare wood tables....
There are clearly a lot of cooks in this town who would really love a challenge of doing that kind of food -- that seriously sculpted, technique driven stuff. You know, when you pair really top flight really really refined technique, high standards, and the best ingredients people will start getting on planes in Paris and coming here.
Do you think a city can be considered a great food city if it doesn't have someone trying to compete with a Thomas Keller?
Hmm, depends what you mean. I happen to think this is a great food city and a great restaurant city. But in a classic sense of the word if you want to be included in -- you know, when you talk about great, like remembered in 50 years, people will be talking a meal, one meal they had in Portland, then I think, yeah, you need a heavy hitter. You know, when you think of Sydney you think of Tetsuya. They've got one. London, take your pick: Gordon Ramsay, Marco Pierre White, or a bunch of other guys. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt. Have one guy with a name nationally. Which you have already among foodies with Greg Higgins, I believe a Beard Winner. Certainly within the world of food writers, chefs, and serious...
It's still just bistro level cuisine with very fresh, local ingredients...
Yeah, to me it's a relief to come here, that's a good thing, it's a draw. But are you going to get tourists to get on a plane, Europeans to get on a plane and fly here just to eat, like they do for Chicago with Achatz and those guys? That would help. There's no doubt in my mind you have the culinary talent. The streets are filled with them. You're tripping over them.
On Himself and His New Book
I've been reading your new book. I just got it about a week ago and am a third of the way through. It seems like where Kitchen Confidential was more like a memoir and A Cook's Tour was mostly travelogue, this seems more like sitting down and BSing with Tony Bourdain...
I don't know. It's a collection of pieces I wrote over a number of years. I have persistent obsessions, I just don't know whether it's a consistent work from start to finish. It's exactly what it says: scraps, bones, varietal cuts, trimmings...
Your B-Side Singles?
Yeah, pretty much.
So everything has been previously published?
Everything but the commentary at the end and the work of fiction which was done only in audio -- as an audio download.
So in your commentary in the back you discount a lot of what you write...You kind of say you regret some of what you wrote...
Some of the stuff I wrote a while back -- I'm a little older, a little wiser, a little nicer. I don't know. I look back and think, okay, that was a funny piece. It holds up as funny. But I don't believe it anymore. Or it was bullshit. Or I was full of shit when I wrote it. Who am I kidding? I think that's only fair.
That's interesting because as I was reading it I almost felt it was solidifying a sense I had of you previously going back to Kitchen Confidential. People always focus on your edginess, your "colorful" language, your passion for cigarettes, like you're the culinary version of Dennis Leary. Or they just think of you as the guy who eats weird stuff. You seem to like to associate yourself with the criminal element, Sopranos style mobsters, and the '70s punk rockers you grew up with, like The Ramones. But more than ever after reading this book, I see you less as the anarchist punk, and more as the dustbowl folk singer...
Thanks. I take that as a compliment, actually...
Well you're always praising the common man. Even when you're talking about cooks breaking the rules to get orders out, you sound more like Woody Guthrie singing about Pretty Boy Floyd robbing from the rich to give to the poor or something. Maybe Johhny Cash singing to the prisoners in Folsom Prison...
Cooking is a blue collar profession whether you come from a blue collar background or not. You're doing repetitive work with your hands. So I think the collection is permeated with a yearning or sense of loss for that blue collar work ethnic that I used to live with. I just think that's very much who I am -- my value system and world view were very much formed by those years.
Do you think people misunderstand you when they think of you as a culinary shock jock?
Everything everyone has every said about me is right to some point. Every review that has ever been written about my stuff, good or bad, I can't remember somebody that was ever unfair...Except some steaming turd in the LA Times said that my Bernaise sauce recipe didn't work. I really took that the wrong way. I went out and hired three people of varying skills to recreate it and work it from the recipe to make sure he was wrong. Other than that there's an element of truth in everything. In my heart of hearts I don't see a kitchen bad boy when I look in the mirror. I no longer work in the kitchen, I'm not that bad, and I'm no longer a boy. I don't take it that seriously. I don't care what people say about me really. No one's said anything terrible. Call me an arsonist or a blowhard or arrogant. People have said some unflattering things, but they're mostly true. Don't call me sexist or racist. As long as no one slaps me with that. Those are two things I wouldn't take lying down.
Desert Island
We're getting short on time, so I'll move ahead. You often mention the game you play with other chefs about what their deathrow meal would be, or whatever. If you were going to be stranded on a desert island or were going to spend the rest of your life in prison. What one ingredient would you take with you?
I don't know about one ingredient, but I could eat sushi every day for the rest of my life.
What herb or spice?
Shit...pepper.
What album would you take with you?
Funhouse, The Stooges.
Most recently released album you bought?
The new Chili Peppers album.
What piece of cookware would you take with you?
A good knife.
What knife?
A Global 9" chef's knife.
What book?
The Quiet American...well, it better be a fat one. Don Quixote.
What movie?
Goodfellas.
What female companion would you choose?
My current girlfriend, of course.
Someone other than your girlfriend.
Could she be dead? Someone from the past?
Sure.
Ava Gardner.
If you could choose one celebrity chef to take your place, who would you pick?
To take my place as what?
Going to prison, essentially.
I won't say Jamie Oliver because he'd have a very tough time in there...Ummmm...You know what I wouldn't wish that on any chef.
Is that true?
Well...Charlie Trotter, just for the foie gras thing.
Not for the Raw book?
That doesn't help.
Recently a Virginia Taco Bell worker got six months in jail for spitting in a customer's drink....
For spitting in a customer's drink? I think that's entirely appropriate. Don't have a problem with that. You know, spitting in somebody's food, deliberately tampering with somebody's food, that might have been acceptable back in 1974, god knows I done it, because people didn't give a shit, didn't have any pride, didn't have any expectation things were gonna get better. But now that's treason. You're betraying your chef, your co-workers in a really fundamental way. That's a break of faith with the world. You've just passed yourself out into -- you're really gone -- you're a lost soul if you're spitting in food. I can imagine, I understand what it's like, to work at a place where the customers are complete scumbags, where they want bad food, they insist on it, if you give them good food they freak out. A souless country club, for instance, some horrible chain restaurant, an institution. I understand the urge. But I would quit first. So six months? I completely understand that. Just the health hazard alone. Yeah, I'm okay with that. I'll tell ya, if I saw somebody do that in my kitchen, I'd be going to jail because I would beat them half to fucking death. I would just absolutely -- I'm getting mad just thinking about it.
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