I was going to write a column about light meals after our inevitable excesses over Eid. But then came the devastating news about Anthony Bourdain’s death, and I decided to pay off a debt of gratitude to the chef, the gonzo chronicler of food and culture in far-off places, and master storyteller.

While thousands around the world share my grief over Bourdain’s suicide, my gratitude is more personal, even though I never met him. It’s like this: many years ago, some friends offered to finance a restaurant for me to set up and run. I must confess I was very tempted by the idea, but while I was mulling over the proposal and tossing concepts around in my head, I came across Bourdain’s contrarian ideas in the book that launched his career as a writer and rock and roll TV chef.

Kitchen Confidential is a book that set the standard for foodies ­— acerbic, iconoclastic and direct — it told readers what actually went on behind the scenes in the kitchens of upscale New York restaurants. For example, it advised us not to order fish on Monday because you were likely to be served from the previous Friday’s catch. Once he made a name for himself, he became the voice of the dishwashers, the line cooks and the chefs who were behind the hundreds of thousands of meals served every day in New York restaurants.

A tribute to the celebrity master chef who passed away on June 8

But more importantly for me, he told readers why starting a new restaurant was a bad idea. Many enthusiastic foodies with money to spare had launched such ventures, only to be badly burned. While they may enjoy cooking for friends and family, they had no idea about the economics of running a restaurant. For example, they could easily be ripped off by unscrupulous suppliers who would dump second-rate ingredients on unsuspecting buyers. Then there is the constant pilferage by the staff, the need to control wastage, and the never-ending battle to maintain standards.

This ceaseless battle translated into 16-hour days that left no time or energy for anything else. Bourdain wrote evocatively about the drugs and alcohol chefs used routinely to counter the fatigue and tension involved in their work. Heat and high pressure go hand in hand in professional kitchens. I finally decided this wasn’t the kind of life I wanted, and gave up on the restaurant idea. So thank you, Anthony Bourdain, for this very useful advice.

While Bourdain seemed to be leading an enviable life, writing, speaking at public events and eating delicious-looking meals before cameras, he was a depressive who fought against cocaine and heroin addiction for years. As he once said to a cameraman on one of his shows: “What do you do when all your dreams have come true?” His angst comes through in this quote as well: “Life is complicated. It’s filled with nuance. It’s unsatisfying. If I believe in anything, it is doubt.” Amen, brother.

Apart from his many piercing insights into the world of restaurants, Bourdain will be remembered for his enthusiasm for other cultures and cuisines. With his wry smile and his world-weary demeanour, Bourdain was prepared to try anything once.

His pet peeve was the food fads that came and went, ranging from vegetarianism to the California ban on foie gras, the delicious goose liver pate from France, to the distaste for animal organs. As Bourdain wrote: “Good food, good eating, it’s all about blood and organs, cruelty and decay.”

Among many other things Bourdain taught me was the way unappetising scraps of fillet could be disguised as well-done steak. Thus, a chef would hand over a poor cut to an assistant and tell him to “save for well-done.” Another important lesson was the secret of the Sunday brunch: here, chefs got rid of ingredients that hadn’t been used during the last few days.

Apart from his many piercing insights into the world of restaurants, Bourdain will be remembered for his enthusiasm for other cultures and cuisines. With his wry smile and his world-weary demeanour, Bourdain was prepared to try anything once. From the anus of a warthog to the beating heart of a cobra, he ate it all and told us how it tasted.

So thanks for all the stories and the culinary insights. RIP.

Published in Dawn, EOS, June 15th, 2018