Anthony Bourdain would ab-so-lutely hate me. Hate me. As a dude who’s done every drug in the book and puts out a tough guy New Yorker attitude, he’d consider me soft and make fun of me for saying that I don’t really think pizza is all that great. But that doesn’t mean I don’t respect his opinions and watch his show when I’m coping with a screaming hangover.
Bourdain sat down with Vice to discuss all things hangovers, his new book, and Donald Trump. But who cares about Donald Trump and cookbooks when what we actually need to know about is how to kick the sting of a few too many well whiskeys? Yeah, exactly. Let’s rumble.
Alright, let’s begin with hangovers. Again, per Vice.
What’s your go-to favourite kind of hangover food?
In a perfect situation, I wake up with a savage hangover. Already that’s not perfect but assuming I have a hangover, couple aspirin, Coke-Coca Cola, nice and cold. Smoke a joint, as soon as the nausea abates and munchies ensue, some mapo tofu would be really good. Some spicy Szechuan food, something greasy and super spicy. Perfect. In a pinch some cold fried rice, pork fried rice from the night before, also good. Leftover Chinese tends to work for me. But I want some heat, I want some spice.
It’s actually been scientifically proven that incredibly spicy foods are better for your hangovers than tamer foods, but I couldn’t exactly tell you why. I’m going to assume it has something to do with sweating out the toxins or spending the majority of the day on the toilet ridding yourself of last night’s onslaught of food and beer, but I’m probably completely wrong. What I do know is that Anthony Bourdain drinks a lot, so I’m probably going to follow his lead and get my Szechuan on this weekend while preparing for my Brunch Crawl.
Oh, hey, speaking of brunch, here’s another reason Bourdain would hate me. Yep, brunch.
Why do you hate brunch?
Back in the bad of days of my life (there were many in my long and undistinguished career) no matter how badly things went I could always get a brunch gig. So, those times that I did cook brunch, for extended periods of time, always, you know, those smells. Those… the smell of just lots of eggs, eggs cooking on the stovetop, homefries, bacon, and sticky French toast batter. These are the smells that I associate very deeply with the lowest, most painful, humiliating, shameful, desperate moments of life. So I really, I just, I have instinctive existential hatred of everything about brunch. Until I became a dad… Cooking breakfast for my daughter and her friends after sleepover, well actually that’s pretty… That makes me really happy. I do fuss over them and I wanna be the world’s best dad so I don’t just do pancakes, I do a pancake bar with your choice of blueberry, chocolate chip, banana, or teddy bear. I wanna be that dad. Whose dad is best? Ariane’s daddy, bitches.
Not to call him out on his shit or anything, but come on. That’s just a lie based on his old interviews where he explains that brunch is a time for leftover food to get reused and for patrons to pay $12 for an egg-dish that cost about $2 to make. Don’t pour prosecco in our glasses and tell us its champagne, Anthony. We might be hungover, but we aren’t idiots. .
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