ANOTHER DAY AT THE OFFICE
By Producer, Tom Vitale
A few months ago when the first cold front hit New York, I was contentedly sunning on a beach in Greece. I’ll admit it, I have a great job. Whenever the topic comes up with new friends or acquaintances, without fail the first question asked is “Do you need an assistant?” The next is invariably “Do you have to eat all the gross stuff that Tony does?”
Contrary to popular belief the vast majority of the food we encounter is far from bizarre, it’s delicious. Still it’s true; occasionally I’m forced to eat something I find kind of nasty, like that steamed shark’s head in Singapore. In the interest of not offending our proud and generous hosts, the crew knows when faced with this situation, to smile and politely choke it down. Not such a big deal. Refusing, as Tony says, would be to “bring shame upon the clan.”
A few months ago when the first cold front hit New York, I was contentedly sunning on a beach in Greece. I’ll admit it, I have a great job. Whenever the topic comes up with new friends or acquaintances, without fail the first question asked is “Do you need an assistant?” The next is invariably “Do you have to eat all the gross stuff that Tony does?”
Contrary to popular belief the vast majority of the food we encounter is far from bizarre, it’s delicious. Still it’s true; occasionally I’m forced to eat something I find kind of nasty, like that steamed shark’s head in Singapore. In the interest of not offending our proud and generous hosts, the crew knows when faced with this situation, to smile and politely choke it down. Not such a big deal. Refusing, as Tony says, would be to “bring shame upon the clan.”
Everyone makes mistakes. One of my particularly memorable missteps was
on the aforementioned shoot on the Greek island of Crete. I’d arranged
a sheep slaughter and alfresco roast with a rough and tumble group of
shepherds high in the mountains outside the village of Anoyia. Just
another day at the office. In these admittedly uncomfortable
situations I try to comfort myself with the knowledge that it’s a part
of life and whatever animal we are offing is treated with infinitely
more respect than factory farmed livestock. But this time it wasn’t
just the lamb to the slaughter …
The evening before, we had filmed a raki making/drinking scene. For those of you not in the know, raki is a supercharged moonshine distilled from the fermented by products of the winemaking process. Suffice to say it is powerful stuff. As the hours passed the crew and I all drank shot after shot of this stuff at an ever-accelerating rate. To decline would be an insult. Our polite protests of “we’re working” and “o.k. just a little!” were, by the end of the evening, no more than slurred utterances of thanks. You can see Todd and me ‘taking one for the team’ after the first commercial break.
But I digress—the point is, the next day as we twisted and turned up a
near vertical incline of switchbacks heading toward our mountain top
sheep killing scene—I wasn’t feeling my best. First thing to greet us
upon arrival was a darling little lamb. Meekly blinking and tied to
the bed of a pickup, I was struck by how much it reminded me of a
beloved stuffed animal from childhood. I was starting to get the
message this was going to be one of those days.
There I was in a dusty and barren landscape, suffering a blistering hangover with the hot noonday sun beating down on my aching head. I’m really, really thirsty. And can you guess what Greek shepherds drink when they need to quench their thirst? Yes, it’s the ubiquitous raki. Oh please no. It’s now fully clear Greek drinking practices are an occupational hazard I would have to deal with. Five shots later and I’m in a nauseated daze wondering if people here are just celebrating the unusual event of a visit from an American TV crew, or if we’re stranded on an island of serious alcoholics.
I’m trying to do my job, trying to stay in control of the situation. But spurred by the fear of further imbibing I seize the opportunity to escape. Stumbling away I come face to face with our lunch-to-be which Tony has affectionately named ‘Socks.’ Out of the pot and into the fire I go as the poor little thing keeps staring up at me with a desperately pleading look on her face. Before I can find a nice rock to crawl under, it’s time to say goodbye to our cute little friend. I’m going to spare you the gory details of Socks’ end, most of which I missed while hiding in the bushes. A place I probably would have remained if not frightened by a snake.
That, however, is not the end of the story. Socks was quartered and skewered for roasting on the fire. His organs removed and placed in a plastic grocery bag after several choice pieces were fished out. One of which, the intestine, is the fattiest and most prized part of the animal. It requires minimal preparation, just a quick rinse before being stuffed with diced spleen and thrown on the fire. Note to self: skip the spleen course today. I’ll just make sure to blend into the background, maybe go for a walk when it’s ready to be served.
Unfortunately, my plans of ‘disappearing’ at the moment of truth are dashed by a hail of bullets as the shepherds begin discharging live rounds of ammunition into the air. “They do that when they’re happy,” our guide cheerfully explains. Best to stick close to the pack I think. Just then one our hosts whips out his machete and slices off a pinky sized piece of the spleen-stuffed intestine and looks in my direction. Time grinds to a halt. Beads of sweat form on my brow and a metallic taste floods the back of my mouth temporarily drowning out the stale raki. Refusing would be a cardinal offense, but at this point I don’t care. “Oh, no thank you” I protest, “I’m so full!” For a minute I think I’m actually going to get away with this transparent lie. But alas the man continues to gesticulate, his fervor catching Tony’s attention. “Tom,” Tony says with that stern tone usually reserved for recalcitrant children “eat it.” It has been spoken, the die is cast, there’s no way out.
Trembling, I take a bite ... the taste is not all together repulsive—but no matter. I’ve already thoroughly visualized what I’m eating. The thought of probable lamb shit in my mouth, the hangover, and the raki infused bile churning in my stomach are not a good mix. The situation reaches critical mass when for some reason I can’t swallow—I really try but I can’t. The longer Socks’ lower GI system remains in contact with my taste buds, the more dire the situation becomes. I can feel it coming. I’m going to loose it and vomit in the middle of a scene (a No Reservations first by the way), forever besmirching our reputation on the Island of Crete. An unforgivable act that will surely insult the kindness of twenty gun-wielding shepherds.
I’m frightened and I want to go home. My eyes are tearing up, the color is draining from my face and everyone at the table now has their gaze trained on me. A terrible grimace forms as I mime chewing—not missing a step, both cameras point their lenses in my direction. My field of vision blurs, and the gag reflex so desperately repressed begins to kick in. Then as if by divine intervention at the last moment I somehow manage to swallow. It’s truly a miracle.
As quickly as the horror began, normalacy (of a kind) resumes. The Greeks go back to ripping away at Socks’ charred corpse, the cameras refocus on the meal and Tony is appeased (which means I still have a job). Disaster oh so narrowly averted. Even though things turned out ok (for me if not Socks) I’m having trouble seeing a Happy Ending. I guess if I had to find some meaning here—a moral perhaps—it would be eating and drinking for a living is not as glamorous as you might think. But I still wouldn’t trade it for the world.
The evening before, we had filmed a raki making/drinking scene. For those of you not in the know, raki is a supercharged moonshine distilled from the fermented by products of the winemaking process. Suffice to say it is powerful stuff. As the hours passed the crew and I all drank shot after shot of this stuff at an ever-accelerating rate. To decline would be an insult. Our polite protests of “we’re working” and “o.k. just a little!” were, by the end of the evening, no more than slurred utterances of thanks. You can see Todd and me ‘taking one for the team’ after the first commercial break.
But I digress—the point is, the next day as we twisted and turned up a
near vertical incline of switchbacks heading toward our mountain top
sheep killing scene—I wasn’t feeling my best. First thing to greet us
upon arrival was a darling little lamb. Meekly blinking and tied to
the bed of a pickup, I was struck by how much it reminded me of a
beloved stuffed animal from childhood. I was starting to get the
message this was going to be one of those days.There I was in a dusty and barren landscape, suffering a blistering hangover with the hot noonday sun beating down on my aching head. I’m really, really thirsty. And can you guess what Greek shepherds drink when they need to quench their thirst? Yes, it’s the ubiquitous raki. Oh please no. It’s now fully clear Greek drinking practices are an occupational hazard I would have to deal with. Five shots later and I’m in a nauseated daze wondering if people here are just celebrating the unusual event of a visit from an American TV crew, or if we’re stranded on an island of serious alcoholics.
I’m trying to do my job, trying to stay in control of the situation. But spurred by the fear of further imbibing I seize the opportunity to escape. Stumbling away I come face to face with our lunch-to-be which Tony has affectionately named ‘Socks.’ Out of the pot and into the fire I go as the poor little thing keeps staring up at me with a desperately pleading look on her face. Before I can find a nice rock to crawl under, it’s time to say goodbye to our cute little friend. I’m going to spare you the gory details of Socks’ end, most of which I missed while hiding in the bushes. A place I probably would have remained if not frightened by a snake.
That, however, is not the end of the story. Socks was quartered and skewered for roasting on the fire. His organs removed and placed in a plastic grocery bag after several choice pieces were fished out. One of which, the intestine, is the fattiest and most prized part of the animal. It requires minimal preparation, just a quick rinse before being stuffed with diced spleen and thrown on the fire. Note to self: skip the spleen course today. I’ll just make sure to blend into the background, maybe go for a walk when it’s ready to be served.
Unfortunately, my plans of ‘disappearing’ at the moment of truth are dashed by a hail of bullets as the shepherds begin discharging live rounds of ammunition into the air. “They do that when they’re happy,” our guide cheerfully explains. Best to stick close to the pack I think. Just then one our hosts whips out his machete and slices off a pinky sized piece of the spleen-stuffed intestine and looks in my direction. Time grinds to a halt. Beads of sweat form on my brow and a metallic taste floods the back of my mouth temporarily drowning out the stale raki. Refusing would be a cardinal offense, but at this point I don’t care. “Oh, no thank you” I protest, “I’m so full!” For a minute I think I’m actually going to get away with this transparent lie. But alas the man continues to gesticulate, his fervor catching Tony’s attention. “Tom,” Tony says with that stern tone usually reserved for recalcitrant children “eat it.” It has been spoken, the die is cast, there’s no way out.
Trembling, I take a bite ... the taste is not all together repulsive—but no matter. I’ve already thoroughly visualized what I’m eating. The thought of probable lamb shit in my mouth, the hangover, and the raki infused bile churning in my stomach are not a good mix. The situation reaches critical mass when for some reason I can’t swallow—I really try but I can’t. The longer Socks’ lower GI system remains in contact with my taste buds, the more dire the situation becomes. I can feel it coming. I’m going to loose it and vomit in the middle of a scene (a No Reservations first by the way), forever besmirching our reputation on the Island of Crete. An unforgivable act that will surely insult the kindness of twenty gun-wielding shepherds.
I’m frightened and I want to go home. My eyes are tearing up, the color is draining from my face and everyone at the table now has their gaze trained on me. A terrible grimace forms as I mime chewing—not missing a step, both cameras point their lenses in my direction. My field of vision blurs, and the gag reflex so desperately repressed begins to kick in. Then as if by divine intervention at the last moment I somehow manage to swallow. It’s truly a miracle.
As quickly as the horror began, normalacy (of a kind) resumes. The Greeks go back to ripping away at Socks’ charred corpse, the cameras refocus on the meal and Tony is appeased (which means I still have a job). Disaster oh so narrowly averted. Even though things turned out ok (for me if not Socks) I’m having trouble seeing a Happy Ending. I guess if I had to find some meaning here—a moral perhaps—it would be eating and drinking for a living is not as glamorous as you might think. But I still wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Tom,
Atta Boy! C'mon up here to the mountains of Asheville, NC. Moonshine, Pork meat, and gun totin' rednecks! Yeeeee Haw! You will fit right in.
Actually in all seriousness, I wonder what would have happened if you did puke all over the shoot. I mean there are no mulligans in real time. I would have loved to heard his commentary on your hurl. Would he have rated it for volume, consistency, duration, and the all encompassing splatter factor? Hmmmm..
Very good reminder about what you guys are there for, to fully experience the places you are going by eating the native food. What I never could understand were the travelers who would go cross country or to the other side of the world...and then search for a McD's to eat at. I would wonder, what's the point? While there are some instances where it can get dicey to eat (and thank you for that reminder as well), in the end, it's a one of a kind experience and life is just way too short.
When you're 80 years old, do you want to tell the kids about going to a McD's in China or eating intestine delicacies in Crete? Kids love gore and adventure, and they will see grandpa as hard-core and have a level of respect and admiration.
I recently tried chapulines in Mexico and brought back a bag, getting the expected eww from friends but I found them really good, like barbecue chips. I've made a resolution to travel and try different things.
I applaud you guys. And seriously if you need an assistant, I am there!
Hi Tom
Good job on not hurling the sheep spleen in the intestine, now if it was me I would of hurled I think. Maybe if Tony had not given the sheep the name of socks it would have been easier on you to get the piece of meat down.
BTW loved the Greek Islands episode Tony was his snarky self again I love that side of him.
You all look like you had a great time I bet it was nice to be somewhere nice and warm and not in the cold weather in NYC.
I did eat some street food when I was in the Czech Republic in 2004 (now that would be a good place for Tony and his NR crew to go to HINT, HINT go during the summer thats a good time of year to go). The street food was from a hot dog vender BEST hot dog I have ever eaten. Instead of a regular hot dog bun the vender used hard crust rolls (yum).
The vender had a little stand in the main square of Old Town Prague.
Tom btw if Tony does take up my above hint to go to the Czech Republic he does need to go to a town called the Czesky Kromlov. The producers can put Tony in a river raft there and go down the river and Tony will make his snide remarks why the producers did what they did now that would be fun to see. The Czesky Kromlov is a UNESCO World Heritage site too.
Here's to good eating.
Growing up in the wild north I've had to face down my dinner many times. Don't let the sad eyes fool you - it's us or them! Gwen Stephani has it wrong. L.A.M.B. stands for "Lots-A Meaty Barbeque". Glad you took one for the team, you produced a great location! Wish I could have been there.
Now you know what morning sickness feels like.
Rule of thumb: never give your meal a name.
In grease Tony had a meal in Crete prepaird by Minolis, he made what I hear as "Stacka".... I am not sure if I have the spelling right becuse I sure can't find the recipe ant where.... can you help?
Bravo Tom! You faced down the worst of it and survived! I am glad you didn't upchuck! You wouldn't get too many "circuses" for that one. Especially from the gun happy hosts. Keep up the great work! I watch this show faithfully.
I don't understand why one travels then eats the same as one does at home. As an American of mixed background (non-American aka Filipino mom) I never got that piece of false data and had to learn to be adventurous off the bat. I mean have you had Filipino food (or watched Fear Factor) it's very adventurous.
In any event is the rumour true you guys are planning a show for the San Francisco Bay Area? I live and recently moved back to the area and even in our suburbs there is cool stuff there between the chains and other stuff you see everywhere. In Fremont you can have a boring meal at the local chain, or you can see the biggest Afghanistan community outside the country. You can see "Hollywood North" where Chaplin. We also have one of the largest Filipino and Filipino-American communities in the world as well as some great Thai temples. We are not just hippies and yuppies and it would be nice for a travel show to show that. I believe No Reservation can do it justice.
Avoid the tour books and look at www.yelp.com to see what locals say!!! Or I can help you for free aka college credit. Before going back to school to change my career (non-profits/medical anthropology) I used to work in marketing for Paramount & Fox so I am familiar with the process.
I don't understand why one travels then eats the same as one does at home. As an American of mixed background non American aka Filipino mom I never got that piece of false data and had to learn to be adventurous off the bat. I mean have you had Filipino food or watched Fear Factor it's very adventurous.
In any event is the rumour true you guys are planning a show for the San Francisco Bay Area? I live and recently moved back to the area and even in our suburbs there is cool stuff there between the chains and other stuff you see everywhere. In Fremont you can have a boring meal at the local chain, or you can see the biggest Afghanistan community outside the country. You can see Hollywood North where Chaplin used to work. We also have one of the largest Filipino and Filipino-American communities in the world as well as some great Thai temples. We are not just hippies and yuppies and tourist traps and expensive dining. It would be nice for a travel show to show that and I believe No Reservation can do it justice.
Avoid the tour books and look at Yelp to see what locals say!!! Or I can help you for free aka college credit. Before going back to school to change my career to non profits and medical anthropology I used to work in marketing for Paramount & Fox so I am more than familiar with the process.
You can find me on Facebook or email if you want.
that had to be divine intervention! how else can you explain that feeling stopping? oh, that's the worst feeling in the world. glad to hear you overcame it somehow and lived through the experience relatively unscathed! love the show, you all do a great job!
Can we get Tony to do a show in Connecticut?
Or do a show reltaed to Music Spot and clubs that serve good food?
http://www.JohnDennerRocks.com
MY PRAYERS ARE OFFERED FOR THE SACRIFICIAL LAMB... but moving on from there and that "mean daddy" you hold dear; Iam relieved hear that most food is not extreme and bizarre. Also pleased to hear that rotted fish heads and etc may be just a passing joke. No one really eats that stuff.... not on THIS show. Speaking of jokes, this little town in Mexico offeres a trick to survivalists that may rival those of Vietnam. Bahia Kino, see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bah%C3%ADa_Kino
...a one time visit from me found little to eat other than the fresh catch of the day as it is hauled in by locals there. I did not eat but the people are friendly. It is a good place to visit... especially by brave souls like Tony.
Oh Tom, you're such a wuss. When faced with compelling opportunites like the offer of delicious steamed shark's head you should ask yourself: "What would Nari do...?"
Bravo Tom!
This is a reality addressed by most "farm raised" children very early in life, whereby the cute little ______ (insert animal of choice here...) that you have been petting and following around pretending to play imaginary games with suddenly disappears suspiciously before meat of that variety ends up on the dinner table. Even children as young as 4 or 5 realize EXACTLY where Wilbur went! Somehow life goes on, but one does learn to keep a bit of emotional distance from what in all respects is basically potential prey....
(Note* this in no way excuses your lilly-livered whinings about all the alcohol Tony and you kind hosts forced down your gullet.... Many of us out here in blogging land would happily chew spleen for the chance to drink and make nice with Mr. Bourdain!)
Saw the NOLA episode last night and I gotta ask...there seemed to be some genuine tension in the room in the scenes with Tony and Emeril. Given some of Tony's past observations rightfully so. Then again, they are both older and wiser now, and I am sure have a respect for one another. Still...it looked a little uncomfortable. Just curious. Love the show.
Yeah Bob, Anthony seemed sincere enough, but Emeril looked like he had just caught his fingers in a mouse trap and was trying not to curse about it.
Mmmmm. Lamb guts.
Hi. I'm new to The World of Bourdain, but what a great show. And thanks for doing crew blogs too - it's really interesting.
Aaah, the Meat-Eater's Dilemma. As an animal-lover AND an omnivore, I know it well.
All I can say is, I wish somebody would make something delicious out of me when I've been "dispatched". It's a noble and dignified death, assuming the animal has had a good life. And by bearing witness to the whole shebang, I think it gives you more integrity as a carnivore. You have truly (if you'll pardon the pun...) "earned your chops".
When I was in Cinque Terre I got blasted the night before I took that "beautiful hike" between the five towns.
I barfed after eating an apple on our second stop.
You ate grilled lamb poo with a post-hangover buzz and didn't throw up. Jesus. I don't even know you... and I'm proud of you.
My wife and I watch your show with our three children (13-16). You provide a very good class on try it, you might like it! Thanks for bringing the world into our home...
I visited Crete alone a year and a half ago. What warm, hospitable people. I do recall leaving each meal in a drunken stupor due to my hosts serving me large amounts of Raki at the end of each meal. Ah, the memories!
OH MY GOD!!! I just got through watching 6 of the top rated FAN-atic videos and I can only say that those are 15 minutes of my life that I am never going to get back. Please people, give them something to work with. If I weren't a crazy-busy mother of three small children, you can bet your sweet ass I would have a better video, (and plan for Bourdain) than these weaklings! Come on young people! Come on retirees! Let's see some wit, charm, and a truly original destination idea would be nice too.....
i know this is a lil OT ...
been seeking hi n low for the title of the Pink Floyd song featured when TOny was paragliding in Argentina
here's a link : http://resources.imeem.com/resources/flash/audio_player.swf?&autoStart=false&ak=vhyoMbIIF9&r=http%3a%2f%2fwww.xtremeplace.com%2fyabbse%2findex.php%3ftopic%3d51714.0&gatewayUrl=http%3a%2f%2fwww.imeem.com%2famf%2f&isEmbed=1
Thanks in advance :)
and sorry for being off the topic
Living with and knowing Cretans, you got off easy. It wasn't a goat's intestines that you had to sup on while hangin on raki. Kokoretsi. Nuthin' like goat offal. If you are partying with Greeks, come hard or don't come.
Yes, you have a great job.
Seriously, why haven't you been to Alaska yet?
I know, perhaps you think that Northern Quebec gave you all the raw whale you could eat but Alaska is so much more. Besides having no less than 5 distinct ethnic groups of Native Alaskan there is a rich Russian and just plain old American culture here. We have it all. Everything from stinkheads in Bethel (ask your buddy Zimmern about that) to the breweries in Anchorage (more breweries per capita than anywhere in the U.S. except Portland). Oh, and did I mention exceptional Korean and Vietnamese food? If you love good food and great beer you need to get here.
If you need any further convincing look here: www.wildales.com
I'll be happy to play tour guide.
Jason N.,
A misplaced Cajun in Anchorage, Alaska
hey tony your my hero love your show used to cook myself we needed someone like you on the tv i would love to go on a trip with you but no video it would be a blast i know anyway thanks for making us proud and informed and humored if ever in new york definately have to hit you up your biggest fan john gibron
Can you help me. I am trying to find out the name of the bakery that Tony went to in France where they made the french bread early in the morning. Do you remember?
HEY, LOVE DA SHOW, NEVA LAFFED SO HARD, ON PERU, DA COCO LEAVES,U WHERE FUNNI TOO MUCH...UR A BLAST. NOW SINGAPORE, WHAT WAS DAT SURGICIAL RESTURANT, W/WHEEL CHAIRS, NOT KOOL, I THOUGHT U WUZ AT A HOSPITAL AT FIRST, GLANCE, LEFT DA ROOM, BUT IF DA WHEEL CHAIRS WHERE GOLD, NEXT TIME KIPP ME ONE, LOOKED NICER THEN MINE...**L**. REALLY. LUV DA SHOW, KEEP SHARIN ALL DA PLACES SOME DONT GET TOO SEE,& WAT IS WIT DAT ZIMMERMAN, THE COMMERCIAL IS STOMACHE UPSETTING....HAHAHAHA, U 2 MOST BE A BLAST AT A RESTURANT TOGETHA...HAHA
KEEP TRAVELIN, NY-GUURL
I wish the camera man would NOT tilt the camera 40 degrees. Is he trying to make us sea sick? Anyway, Great show otherwise.
Raki and sheep intestine. Next time you're in town, we'll know what to serve....
Comment on the show about CRETE:
Are there no women in Crete? My husband (a gourmet chef) and I were surprised, then I was angered) that the show on Crete showed NO WOMEN!!
At first, I joked that the women were probably glad to have the men leave for a day of sheep skinning.
But, then they went to a home for lunch. A woman cut the greens in the field and even poured food into the pot at the outside cooking site. The man was a puppet chef- but Anthony never mentioned the women.
There were no women in the entire show!!!!!
What do they eat- chopped liver?
I am so angry that I am going to boycott this show - sort of like the Apprentice which is also hopelessly sexist.
I am so disappointed. Anthony even mentions his daughters at one point - but doesn't address women in Crete. Weird.
I think there shoud be a show: What Women Eat in Crete ... and the rest of the world.
I agree with Sandy above. As much as I love the show, and as much as I love Bourdain, I feel that women from other countries (and hell even the episode on Cleveland) are MIA. The show seems to be veering into this macho man mode, which is fine and funny sometimes. But there is only so many times one can watch drunken men in either Greece or Argentina etc drinking too much while shooting and eating entrails. It would be nice if the women in these various countries had a larger voice.
Sea Vegetables of the Pacific Coast
June 8, 2008
Lincoln City, OR
Ginger-Root Rendezvous - 4-Day Wild Food Intensive
June 20 - 23, 2008
Hood River, Mt Hood, OR
Gaper, Butter, and Littleneck Clam Dig
July 5, 2008
Tillamook, OR
Sea Vegetables of the Pacific Coast
July 6, 2008
Lincoln City, OR
Marshmallow, Meringue & S'mores from Wild Plants
July 27, 2008
Portland, OR
Pacific Coast Clam Dig
August 2, 2008
Tillamook, OR
>>HUG