Bourdain in the 'Burgh

My husband and I bought tickets to see Anthony Bourdain speak at Heinz Hall on June 14. We are pretty regimented on the weeknights, and Mondays are usually especially structured, as we are just getting back into the work week routine. I know, I know...loosen up. Well, that was part of the impetus behind going to listen to Bourdain speak. Besides a strong affinity for his writings and TV show ("No Reservations") we have been making a conscious effort to get out more this summer and to enjoy all the city has to offer.
So, Monday June 14 rolls around and we rush home from work, hop in the car together, and head downtown. We were hoping to grab something to eat before the lecture. Surprisingly, so were all of the other Bourdain followers. This left us with a 45 minute wait at each of the restaurants we checked, a time frame we couldn't work with and still make the lecture. So, there we were, traipsing around downtown looking for a bar to grab a drink before the show. We were pleasantly surprised at how busy the city was, but getting to the point of pissy-ness (yes, that is the technical term) from the lack of food or beverage in our systems, the long walks in our work shoes, and the blazing heat and suffocating humidity. We stumbled into Braddock, the bar in the lobby of the Renaissance, just as my husband's blistered feet were starting to bleed and my curly hair was frizzing beyond control. The bar was crowded but not packed. So, I practically crawled to an opening between two stools at the bar and waited to get the attention of the bartender. My husband, who is usually quick to tell me what he wants to drink, looked pretty dumbfounded when I turned back to ask his bevy choice of the day. I was having none of this, as the aforementioned factors were still in existence and as I still didn't have and food or drink in hand. With some attitude, I asked my husband what he'd like, and he stumbled over the word "beer" (a word he first spoke at age 5) as he gestured to my left. Still oblivious, I ordered our drinks from the bartender and paid. As I turned around to hand my husband his drink, I figured out what the issue was. Sitting in the bar stool next to me was Anthony Bourdain. He was all by his lonesome - no agent, no bodyguard - drinking beer. I was thinking of striking up a conversation or at least telling him that we were on our way to his lecture. Before I got the words out, a young couple pushed me aside and demanded a picture with him. An older woman was waiting behind them with a book for him to sign, and a guy on the other side of the bar sent him a beer. In true Bourdain form, he looked thoroughly uncomfortable with the attention and pretty annoyed at the situation. I chose to stay out of the way and we got a table at the bar and watched the situation continue in the same fashion until he left, on foot, presumably to go the couple of blocks to Heinz Hall and prepare for the lecture.
After we got there ourselves, he took the stage in the same fashion he left us - beer in hand. His lecture was entertaining, somewhat informative, and seemed to be well received. Until, that is, someone from the crowd asked him when he was going to film a show in Pittsburgh and he blew it off, referencing something about not having an indigenous food. Can you say french fries and slaw on a sandwich, Tony? And what the hell does Cleveland have that is indigenous? Otherwise, the lecture went smoothly and covered subjects from Food Network personalities and being a respectful traveler to problems with the food industry and being a father. Taking the under, I lost a bet to my husband, who set the over/under for f-bombs at 20. But, I laughed most of the way through the lectureand brushed shoulders with the man himself. And though I lost a little respect for him in the response to that audience member's question, I was particularly impressed with a point he made late in the lecture. It went something like this: the best dinners are not the ones at the fabulous restaurants that you have to plan for far in advance to get reservations, but the ones that come spontaneously and are had with the ones you love. I would have to agree that drinking at the bar, big hair and sore feet, and snacking on goldfish the bartender was kind enough to share, was one of the better food experiences I've had in a while.