conversation with Anthony Bourdain
Hey, you're Anthony Bourdain.
I am. Most strangers on the street call out Tony though.
That's because most strangers like being inappropriately familiar with celebrities.
That could be true.
I enjoy your show. It's different than the rest of the travel food shows.
Thanks, I agree. Why do you think so.
Cos you're present. When you explore and eat and enjoy, you're there, not talking to the camera. You do your analysis in voice over after the moment, you've thought about it, captured it in words. The others talk too much.
I agree again. Are you nursing a baby under that tea towel?
I am. My baby in fact.
You're sitting near a beach on a beautiful afternoon in Newcastle, what's with the towel?
It takes a bit of managing baby and breast when you're not small-chested. Australia's not New Guinea, you know?
So is it for you or for strangers on the street?
Probably more for me. I'd like to discourage inappropriate familiarity.
Right. Have you ever tasted mother's milk?
I have. As a mother the first time around, my own.
What did it taste like?
Like milk. Like perfumed mild milk.
Perfumed? Perfumed of what?
Of me.
A large-breasted American woman nurses her baby with perfumed milk under a tea towel on a beach in Newcastle. That's beguilingly far out.
Is it? Take the American out of there and it's pretty normal I would think.
True enough. But that is what we call relativity.
I am. Most strangers on the street call out Tony though.
That's because most strangers like being inappropriately familiar with celebrities.
That could be true.
I enjoy your show. It's different than the rest of the travel food shows.
Thanks, I agree. Why do you think so.
Cos you're present. When you explore and eat and enjoy, you're there, not talking to the camera. You do your analysis in voice over after the moment, you've thought about it, captured it in words. The others talk too much.
I agree again. Are you nursing a baby under that tea towel?
I am. My baby in fact.
You're sitting near a beach on a beautiful afternoon in Newcastle, what's with the towel?
It takes a bit of managing baby and breast when you're not small-chested. Australia's not New Guinea, you know?
So is it for you or for strangers on the street?
Probably more for me. I'd like to discourage inappropriate familiarity.
Right. Have you ever tasted mother's milk?
I have. As a mother the first time around, my own.
What did it taste like?
Like milk. Like perfumed mild milk.
Perfumed? Perfumed of what?
Of me.
A large-breasted American woman nurses her baby with perfumed milk under a tea towel on a beach in Newcastle. That's beguilingly far out.
Is it? Take the American out of there and it's pretty normal I would think.
True enough. But that is what we call relativity.