While I have seen A Cook’s Tour a couple of times, it was through his book, Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly, that I learned more about Anthony Bourdain. It was the kind of book that was totally unputdownable. I gobbled up each page, relishing his culinary adventures. There was an honesty in his voice that leapt out of the pages, and there was a recklessness in his actions that I found so appealing.

After July 2018, it took me quite some time before I could make myself watch another episode of Parts Unknown. When I did, I opted for the one where Bourdain accompanies Masa Takayama to his hometown of Nasushiobara, eating and drinking along the way, dropping wry observations and pearls of wisdom.

Someday soon, I want to slurp an oyster the size of a steak in Kanazawa. If Masa can be there, all the better, because Tony unfortunately can’t.

I was prepared to cry when Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain started streaming. And I did, just a few minutes in. I miss him.

It’s weird, this feeling of missing someone you have never actually met. But because Bourdain has brought me to so many places and tasted for me so many things, I have always thought that he’d continue to do so until I don’t know, I guess, until he was 80 years old or something. And even then, he’d still have the chutzpah to say something wildly inappropriate but absolutely true.

It’s weird, this feeling of seeing Bourdain through everybody else’s eyes but his own. While clips and voiceovers from past shows reminded us of the Bourdain we all knew and loved, it is the interviews of the people who knew him and loved him which made the most mark.

He was shy.

He was unsure.

He was a good student.

He was a control freak.

He was competitive.

He was romantic.

He was in love.

He was desperate.

You could easily map out his trajectory from the quips of family and friends.

But what felt overtly manipulative was the use of a deepfake voice to push a particular narrative. The director must have thought that it was the perfect device to tie loose ends.

Obviously, he hadn’t been listening to Bourdain enough. Bourdain never liked it pretty. He wasn’t the type who’d push for a particular narrative or agenda. The destination tells its story. It was his job to simmer and stew in it.

I wonder what he’d say about everything that’s happening now. I wonder how he’d tell all these stories.

We miss your voice, Mr. Bourdain! We miss you!