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http://no-reservations-crew-blog.travelchannel.com/tag/blog.rssRennik Soholt, Producer
The helicopter was small...very small...and shaking. No bouncing, really. It was bouncing up and down, up and down. My teeth were rattling. Todd and Zach were sitting next to me, filming Tony in the front seat. With one large coastal updraft, Todd flew up in the air, slow-motion, "Todd-ass" blurring my vision...he landed on my lap. I bit my tongue. Todd farted. I puked in my mouth. It was 6am.
It was pouring rain and windy...our first bad weather day our whole shoot in Chile and here is Tony, Zach, Todd and myself trying to helicopter to our shooting location in this shit weather. Was this a good idea?
"Oh, no problem!" says Mr. Helicopter man. "If it's bad, we just come down."
Continue Reading A Not So Normal Day in Chile.
By Skiz Fernando, cultural attaché
One of the many eating houses in the Pettah, Colombo's main marketplace, provides the backdrop for mine and Tony's first Sri Lankan meal, a hearty breakfast of String Hoppers (steamed rice noodles); paripoo, or red lentils stewed in coconut milk; pol sambol, a spicy condiment of fresh shredded coconut laced with lime juice, salt and chili powder; chili fish curry, potato curry and sour fish curry. We have just slogged our way through the crowded and chaotic central fish market around the corner, and I, having prudently bypassed the lavish breakfast buffet at the stately Galle Face Hotel, our home away from home this week, have worked up a healthy appetite that neither the oppressive heat nor the condensed-milk tea we're sipping can kill.
Continue Reading No Reservations: Sri Lanka.
I'm watching Tony Bourdain eat roadkill.
For the last hour I've been cutting a scene of Tony at a Chicago restaurant that specializes in molecular gastronomy of a rather unusual variety. Try to imagine Ferran Adria's El Bulli crossed with a novelty gift shop that sells chocolates in the shape of dog turds and you'll get some idea of the place. He's just had a big bite of a dish called "Roadkill," actually it's a very delicately prepared dish of shredded duck confit with a splattering of a beet puree and a toasted rosemary infused marshmallow that is meant to resemble entrails, or maggots, or ...well, you get the idea
Continue Reading Tony Eats It.
By Louisa Chu
Tony's driving our big black Caddy, skimming the Ike, just south of downtown Chicago. I'm lying down in the backseat, deliberately in hiding. Trying to act like it's cool. Like it's totally not uncomfortable. In every sense of the word. You must know, faithful Bourdain Crew Blog Reader, how Tony doesn't like doing the walking shots? Well apparently he doesn't like repetitious driving shots either, as evidenced by his increasingly road-rage-alicious maneuvers. Oh, and the occasional explosive swearing was a little hint, too. As I'm trying to multitask on my new iPhone, navigating prone and linked with the crew van, I'm so glad they're yukking it up over there. I can hear Chris, Diane, Alex, Kira, Erik and even my brother William, whom I recruited to drive, practically singing "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall." By the way, Chris, when you told me to duck down to get out of the shot and I dropped down to the right, I heard you say, "I wish she would have leaned the other way!" Ha. Ha. Meanwhile I desperately cling to the fine leather upholstery, trying not to get flung hard to the floor. At least I'm grateful for all the time I spent on a Deadliest Catch-esque fishing boat this summer curing myself of motion sickness.
Continue Reading Hanging Out With Anthony Bourdain.
By Jared Andrukanis, Segment Producer
I have been to DC before, but never like this.
In the past, I have spent countless hours wandering the National Mall, hitting up the Smithsonian Institute's cadre of museums, taking in precious moments at the Reflecting Pool (why do Forest and Jenny always come to mind?) sandwiched between the Lincoln and Washington Memorials, gazing at the sheer sobering geometrics of Arlington National Cemetery, and so much more to list.
My previous trips seemed to happen in the fall or winter, and adding to the visual effect of all those bright white tomes to our country's past was a brisk or downright frigid breeze. This has cemented that whole "George Washington crossing the frozen Delaware River" image burned into my brain during all those valuable middle school history classes.
**In reference to the above comment (and in defense of the prowess of my middle school teachers) I know that George's crossing of the Delaware occurred during the Revolutionary War, which was before DC was even founded, but still that painting sums up the whole place for me for some reason. Maybe it's just me. **
Continue Reading A Self-Evident Truth.