In Bourdain’s wake: Beer, shared plates and almost-loves

For the past few years, depending on what city I’m in, I’ve made a habit of stopping at bars Anthony Bourdain visited on his travels. I didn’t set out for it to become a ritual, but it’s the perfect structure. I don’t need a plan. There’s always another place.

To the people I’ve met along the way—

The group in Marfa who made it feel like I had friends to celebrate my 30th birthday with.

The former Stoop Kid from Brooklyn who spent all day at The Met with me.

The Russian Girl who shared her cigarettes, talked Bulgakov because Dostoevsky was too depressing, and with some of the most disarming earnestness I've ever experienced, asked if I was happy outside some Irish bar I can’t remember the name of.

The Dates I somehow convince to order uni and, more often than not, foot the bill—Thank you.

And to the Former Chef turned Corporate Bro—

I have never quite enjoyed sharing a meal like I did with you. It's a shame things turned sour. Still, I should remind you... I asked you out for a beer so you could tell me about the steak frites you had at Les Halles. You were the one who made it a dinner date.

 If we ever have another run in it's probably better for us both if we pretend like we never met each other, but I will always think about how you left me the last piece of pork tongue salad.

Thanks for everything, Tony. 

 I carry your 6’4” lanky ghost with me on these adventures like some kind of protective talisman. I need the help, and I think it’s time the ladies took back some ownership of you anyway. You’re too Romantic for the boys.

You would've hated Bourdain Day, but while I don't believe in God or miracles, I do think you're a saint in your own right. 

It’s a strange thing—that it took your death for so many of us to start paying closer attention to our own lives.

For those struggling, the Suicide Lifeline is available 24/7/365 by dialing 988. Conversations are free and confidential.

The lifeline provides judgment-free care. Connecting with someone can help save your life.

(Shelby Ligon - June 25, 2025)