The thing is, he really, really hates vegetarians. And I think that his disgust is well founded. His critique of vegetarians is pretty devastating and deserves to be taken seriously. Here is his argument in a nutshell (transcribed from a random, crappy cell-phone video on Youtube):
. . . . . . . . .
To find myself in Vietnam, in Singapore, in all these great places, I always felt that this can't last. I'd better enjoy it while I can.....Which is my problem with vegetarians.
I respect your personal lifestyle choice...no actually I don't really. And here's why.. I think it's rude. We have so little time on this planet and there is so much good stuff in it. So the idea of going to Thailand, for instance, or Vietnam and not eating absolutely everything in sight and benefiting from everything you can from this thousands of year old cultures - it horrifies me. Curiosity may be my only virtue, but it is a virtue.
I respect your personal lifestyle choice...no actually I don't really. And here's why.. I think it's rude. We have so little time on this planet and there is so much good stuff in it. So the idea of going to Thailand, for instance, or Vietnam and not eating absolutely everything in sight and benefiting from everything you can from this thousands of year old cultures - it horrifies me. Curiosity may be my only virtue, but it is a virtue.
Also of all the once in a lifetime experiences I've had, like sitting on the Mekong Delta with rice farmers drinking rice moonshine and eating duck.. It wasn't even really good duck.. but that amazing night never would have happened if the duck came out of the kitchen and I said can I have an egg white omelet? They wouldn't get that. They would have been offended and horrified. Is there any purer expression of a place of a country, of a culture, of an ethnic history? It is also someone talking to you. Really great meals, someone is saying something to you, someone is communicating to you.
I think a present example is a true sushi experience where you sit down and say "oh, you decide". The sushi chef is feeding you literally from his fingers, handing it to you from his fingers. He's looking at you and monitoring your expressions and making decisions on what he is going to feed you next. It is an ongoing dialogue, verbal or non-verbal.
I'll give you an even clearer example. Any kind of home meal in Mexico the mother or grandmother or whoever is serving, often will put that taco or tortilla together for you personally with her hands and give it to you. You know that is a very clear example of someone talking to you, saying something about themselves, about their experiences, their likes and dislikes, what gives them pleasure. And we are in the pleasure business, aren't we? I hope so.
So it terrifies me that anyone would want to put up their hand and say no. I reject not only your food, but also your weird foreign lifestyle and all of your history and everything else. And I find that rude and crippling in an unattractive way. Its like going into a museum and saying that I refuse to look at any paintings that aren't the colour red and blue. The other ones I'm not interested in.
....So perhaps we could all try this on our vegetarian friends. Cook bacon around them. It's the gateway protein. To quote my food mentor Homer Simpson, the pig is indeed a magical animal. If you are going to convert any vegetarians it is that smell of bacon in the morning. After that, it 's a slippery slope.
So it terrifies me that anyone would want to put up their hand and say no. I reject not only your food, but also your weird foreign lifestyle and all of your history and everything else. And I find that rude and crippling in an unattractive way. Its like going into a museum and saying that I refuse to look at any paintings that aren't the colour red and blue. The other ones I'm not interested in.
....So perhaps we could all try this on our vegetarian friends. Cook bacon around them. It's the gateway protein. To quote my food mentor Homer Simpson, the pig is indeed a magical animal. If you are going to convert any vegetarians it is that smell of bacon in the morning. After that, it 's a slippery slope.
Food is culture and dialogue and an expression of love and respect. There is something about being a vegetarian that is profoundly anti-social. In a world where the vast majority of cuisines are built on meat, refusing to eat meat means refusing to fully engage with people and communities. I think that Bourdain is right about that.
You can, of course, pull his argument apart by taking it much further. Those who don't drink (or smoke) socially can be accused of a similar close-mindedness. And refusing to allow women or low-caste children to do all the cooking, serving, and cleaning up is in many ways an awkward rejection of a host's way of life. In these cases you are either anti-social because you avoid the interaction altogether, or you are some sort of cultural imperialist for imposing your world-view on others.
Does being genuinely open to others mean completely giving up your ability to make moral choices for yourself? Well, Bourdain's show is called No Reservations, and he is well known for his awesome life of excessive drinking, smoking and drug consuming. So I suspect that this is not really a big issue for him.
But he is making a serious and insightful point - Vegetarianism involves giving up far more than just meat.
i'm a vegetarian, and i've always considered myself kind, friendly, open and curious, so i understandably underwent a significant amount of existential grief when i read your post. i've also had the good fortune to travel extensively, so i can relate, in a way, to the difficulty that bourdain raises when a vegetarian is hosted in another country. but there seem to be two things that your article overlooks:
ReplyDelete1) i think it's safe to assume that not everyone in vietnam, singapore, mexico, japan, etc. shares the same culinary preferences. i.e. there must be at least some people in mexico who absolutely detest the taste of corn tortillas and japanese who avoid sushi like the plague. i'm canadian and i hate maple syrup. the argument seems to suggest that fancy-pants travellers are making high and mighty judgments about other cultures by being vegetarians. does he suggest that the idea of vegetarianism was invented by uncurious westerners? has he heard of india?
2) vegetarianism isn't a culinary preference. this article sounds like it's about someone who hates cilantro; i agree, you're in someone's house and they've served you cilantro, eat the f'n food. but as any vegetarian can remind you, there are a host of real moral issues one should consider every time they eat meat: environmental, energy, animal rights, pharmaceuticals, health, etc. you and i may differ on our opinions on any of these issues, but we can not escape the experience of having an opinion. there is a big leap between expressing your opinion and imposing your cultural world-view on others; there are ways to be respectful without compromising the beliefs that comprise your own integrity.
why does bourdain seem to suggest that these mexican women or sushi chefs would be shattered because someone believes something that's different from them? all humans have differing opinions...is he suggesting biting our tongues for fear of upsetting the apple cart? life is filled with complex cultural issues and we each have no choice but to rely on ourselves to live with integrity and meaning. if that opinion differs from someone else's, it's a good thing: at least there's something to talk about.
you're right about one thing: vegetarianism involves giving up far more than just meat. it inspires consideration of ourselves and our beliefs and discussions of our ideas with others. are you suggesting that's a bad thing?
best,
jordan.
Jordan,
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for this thoughtful response! I think you are right that Bourdain's critique (and my write-up) overlooks these two major issues. And I do appreciate your point that "there are ways to be respectful without compromising the beliefs that comprise your own integrity".
I've been a vegetarian for several years now, but have only really traveled in (vegetarian-friendly) India during that time. Looking back on my trips abroad as a meat-eater, I think that a lot of my most memorable experiences revolved around local non-vegetarian meals. So I have been giving a lot of thought recently to the questions that Bourdain raises.
I don't think that inspiring discussions of our ideas with others is a bad thing. In fact, I think that your concluding thought helpfully turns Bourdain's criticism on it's head. Instead of being a passive consumer of everything presented to us, you seem to be proposing that we engage in a genuine dialogue with other people and cultures when we travel - One that would involve a real sharing of ideas and world-views and give both groups something to think about. This is only really possible when we ourselves have a clear idea of who we are and what we believe.
Bourdain Blows! (and I'm not even vegetarian) -Di
ReplyDeleteI want to second and expand upon some of Jordan's comments, not as a vegetarian, but as someone deeply sympathetic to vegetarianism/veganism (for health and ecological reasons) and as someone interested in current discussions around the sustainability of our industrialized food system, by way of Michael Pollan, the slow food movement, etc.
ReplyDeleteI'm also writing as someone who has been living in Japan for nearly 3 years, and - ironically - was just at a party last night where I was dreading that I would be served turban shell (a slimy, green, corkscrew-shaped crustacean that is cooked whole in its shell, which makes me wonder why my food has to include whatever it last ate and had yet to finish excreting), and I was even prepared to make a bit of a scene if it was served to me, since I told the host in advance I didn't want to eat it (by the way, many Japanese also dislike it, just as a surprising number dislike sushi, but then neither is an everyday food). But as soon as I showed up and felt the convivial atmosphere, I thought, 'If they serve it, I'll eat it without complaint, because to make a scene and embarrass my host would be more damaging to him and the assembled guests than eating it will be to me.' I've learned at least that much about cross-cultural interaction in my time here, and it was a lovely evening (thankfully, no turban shell was served).
Your statement that "the vast majority of cuisines are built on meat" needs some qualification and some supporting evidence. I would suggest that most food cultures are not 'built around meat'; most people are and always have been relatively poor, and meat has always been relatively expensive. Meat is a luxury everywhere, at most a seasonal part of the diet, and thus a special occasion food (I'm borrowing heavily from Michael Pollan here), which is why it is something naturally presented to guests whenever possible (as in the situations Bourdain describes), and thus why it is such an insult to refuse it: people are giving you what they believe to be the best of what they have and you are saying no. But that's not an everyday situation, unless you have the privilege to travel in foreign cultures most of the time, which few of us do.
The situation Bourdain is talking about is a very specific one: being personally fed (i.e. hosted) by someone on their own turf, in their own culture. And he is right, to refuse what they offer you is very bad manners. To paraphrase Wade Davis, the anthropologist, the one rule of cross-cultural encounters is 'eat anything that is put in front of you, even if you know it will make you sick, because the illness can be treated, but nothing can repair the damage to that relationship of refusing what your host offers you.'
(Part 2)
ReplyDeleteHowever, Bourdain (and Davis, incidentally) is speaking from a very privileged, globetrotting perspective. If I am travelling on the cheap, selecting something to eat in an open market of food stalls, I will not offend anyone by selecting a vegetarian option; they will likely not even know that that is the basis on which I am selecting. And I suspect, from experiences I have had here, that if you make your preference clear in such a context -- that of a market, not someone hosting you in their home, etc. -- they will go out of their way to accommodate you, for obvious reasons: they want your business.
I would further suggest that 'rude' doesn't have any clear meaning when talking about cross-cultural interactions, because there is no common standard for what is good or bad manners. 'When in Rome' is a good rule of thumb, and the easiest way to avoid offending anyone is to capitulate 100% to what you believe to be the prevailing norms wherever you are, but as Jordan suggests in her post, that ignores the fact that food cultures (or any number of other aspects of culture) are not homogeneous, and even to the extent they are, there are always dissenters from those norms within the host culture. Maybe they could use a little support! (I'm sure my vegan and vegetarian friends here, and the Japanese restaurants of this type that they flock to, think so.) While it may be imperialistic in a sense to refuse to eat certain foods, it is also oppressive (within a culture, for its own members) to impose a homogeneous set of expectations on what people will or won't eat, do, think, etc. One constantly hears here, 'We Japanese like X' or 'We Japanese do X', as if there are not millions of Japanese who probably don't like X or want to do X, but may feel compelled to because 'That's what We Japanese do'. (And I've met many of these dissenters.)
You quote Bourdain as saying: "We have so little time on this planet and there is so much good stuff in it. So the idea of going to Thailand, for instance, or Vietnam and not eating absolutely everything in sight and benefiting from everything you can from this thousands of year old cultures - it horrifies me." Eating absolutely everything in sight? Is that the purpose of travel? Is this not the manifesto of a super-consumer? The fact that we have so little time is analogous to the fact that the world's resources are limited, and to use that as a rationale for unbridled consumption horrifies me. Let's not forget that his globetrotting is itself totally unsustainable, and out of reach of most people anyway. So for whom and to whom is he really speaking? Other privileged travelers like himself, but with fussier tastes? Is that a significant chunk of humanity?
At best, Bourdain is making a very shallow version of the slow food argument. He is celebrating traditional food cultures (good) and reminding us that eating is about pleasure as much as it is about survival (fine, with some qualifications). But pleasure at whose or what's expense?
(Part 3)
ReplyDeleteJapan again affords lots of good illustrations of why this is such a thorny problem. We hear all the time that Japanese food is healthy, the Japanese are some of the longest-lived in the world, etc., and that is true (again, with qualifications). I do love Japanese food, almost all of it, and will miss the easy access to Japanese ingredients when I am gone. I have definitely come to a new appreciation of food here. The Japanese do a lot of things right: they eat a very wide array of foods, they eat small portions, they eat seasonally, and they savor food in the way we Westerners, always scarfing it down in a mad rush, seldom do anymore. We could learn a lot from them in all these respects.
However, no one in Japan is really eating a 'traditional' Japanese diet anymore. It is a hybrid diet, both because there have been lots of Western introductions (like burgers and pizza and all manner of junk food), and because - like everywhere else - food has been transformed by the industrial farming, processing and distribution system, which is destroying food cultures everywhere. At best, one can eat a simulation of the 'traditional Japanese diet', but it is adulterated with chemicals and preservatives, packaged in excessive amounts of endocrine-disrupting plastic (and often microwaved in that same plastic -- there seems to be a very low level of skepticism about technological hazards or the interest big corporations have or don't have in protecting our health), and/or shipped from halfway around the world (Japan has the longest food miles in the world, since they've long since fished their own waters empty). So at bare minimum, it is not a sustainable diet, much less a 'traditional' and therefore incontrovertibly 'healthy' diet.
Of course, it would be very offensive to my hosts here to point all this out over a nice dinner like the one we shared last night (which was 'traditional' and mostly vegetarian, by the way, since the restaurant -- which is actually someone's home -- was next-door to a Buddhist temple), which brings me to another point: tradition is a relative term. The Japanese eat a fair bit of meat, and of course plenty of fish now, but this 'traditional' diet is not more than a few hundred years old. Before extensive European contact, Japan was essentially a vegetarian nation, owing to the prevalence of Buddhism and absence of extensive animal agriculture. The kicker is, most Japanese don't even know this! They think they have been eating the same way since the dawn of time!
(Part 4)
ReplyDeleteThis was highlighted by the recent controversy over the attempt of France and some other nations to ban tuna fishing. The response in Japan was as short-sighted as it was automatic and oppressively homogeneous. 'How dare the French tell us to stop eating tuna [or 'maguro', the most desirable form of sashimi]. It's traditional!!!' (See above, re: appeals to tradition). It's not a traditional of thousands of years' standing, and in any case, traditional or not, if you fish the seas empty of tuna, you're not going to be able to enjoy sashimi any more, so what sense does it make to appeal to 'tradition' on an issue which is clearly one of the sustainable utilization of a natural resource?!
The sensible response would be to say, perhaps, (a) well maybe we don't need to eat as much tuna as we do, (b) maybe we should agree to an international regime of quotas that would allow the tuna fishery (and every other fishery) to continue sustainably into the future, and (c) maybe we should even participate in policing that quota system (or contribute resources to doing so) so that others are not taking advantage of it by overfishing and jeopardizing our cherished tradition of eating tuna. But that's not the message. The message is, 'We have a right to eat it because it's traditional.' As the global warming people say, you can't negotiate with science. An extinct fish is an extinct fish, traditionally a part of your diet or not.
Anyway, the take-home point is that a simple appeal to tradition (or pleasure) doesn't get us very far in sorting out these problems. Nor does being so afraid of offending people that we say nothing, or avoid these encounters. We should raise these thorny problems, but at the right time, and in the right place, and in the right context -- so not necessarily at the dinner table when people are trying to be good hosts and give you the best of what they have to offer.