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Anthony Bourdain Parts Unknown


Aired May 24, 2015 - 19:00   ET



UNIDENTIFIED MALE: (Singing in Spanish.)

ANTHONY BOURDAIN, HOST: I always feel slightly oppressed by beautiful vistas, you know I mean?


Ah, the storybook kingdom of Granada. One of the oldest, most complex, magically surreal places in Spain. And one of the most beautiful.

Granada is tucked against the Sierra Nevada Mountains of Andalucia in southern Spain. It's not like Barcelona. It's not like San Sebastian. It ain't Madrid. Any reasonable, sentient person who looks at Spain, comes to Spain, eats in Spain, drinks in Spain, they're going to fall in love. Otherwise, there's something deeply wrong with you.

Spain is the sort of place that never really made any sense anyway. But in the very best possible way. This is the country that gave us the Spanish inquisition. Also anarchy. This is where devout Catholicism mixes with surrealism, modernist cuisine with traditional tapas. Christianity and Islam traded places, shared space. And the effects and influences of all those things are right here to see.

You can almost look back through time and through the mists of history see the Phoenicians marching up across the Vega, or are those feral hippies?

An influx of international hippies, many of whom appeared to have set up squats in the caves up the mountain and made things interesting.

They asked me if we're doing this they would stage in a moon landing.

Wherever you are on the ideological spectrum, however, some things are constant, it seems. Some stereotypical expectations. It's true, there are free tapas everywhere. Yes, they do actually take siestas which is a civilized damn thing to do far as I can see.

Flamenco, yes. They do that also. But in Granada, they do it old school. And oh yes, bullfighting. They do that here, too.

But I digress. I'm here actually to answer a question. What happens if you go over to the other side? Say you grew up in the states and like a lot of us wondered, fantasized about what it would be like living abroad in old Europe, surrounded by crusader castles, delicious food, another language, another culture? What would that alternate life, that road not taken be like?

My longtime friend and cameraman from Maine Zach Zamboni is finding out.

So where are we going?

ZACH ZAMBONI, FRIEND: Right here, one of these tables, which maybe we want to do like this with. See? How often you get to out with somebody that can appropriately block the table?


BOURDAIN: Misery is what it is.


BOURDAIN: Yes, of course.

Snails in an almond sauce. About as traditional and as delicious as it gets.

That's a plate full of perfect (INAUDIBLE).

ZAMBONI: Good tapa, huh?

BOURDAIN: That's right. Tapas come from here. And this is still one of the few places in Spain where they're free.


All you have to do is keep drinking.

ZAMBONI: You can sit here all day. Just order a couple of drinks and --

BOURDAIN: Right. No rush. I'm glad I'm spending some time here.

Red wine ordered. Tripes to follow. Tender, spicy, delicious tripe.

ZAMBONI: Sun. Plaza. Guts. It's pretty good.


BOURDAIN: Not too long ago, before Zack basically defected to Spain, he met Fuen. The next thing you know, he's living here. Part of an extended Andalucian family. Eat in the hand, drink in the wine, living the life of the Spanish dandy. In freaking Granada, no less.

Classically, culturally speaking, do you want a sensitive, nice, caring thoughtful guy?

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: Well, it depends on the woman, first. But usually we look for this kind of person that we know he will protect us.

BOURDAIN: From what? Feral hippies?


UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: It's very simple. You know, or --

BOURDAIN: I would love to do the vows of your wedding. Do you, Zach Zambodin.


BOURDAIN: Swear to protect Fuen Sanchez from any attacks by feral cave-dwelling hippies? Who might attempt her to sell her jewelry or other things of little value.



BOURDAIN: I figure now that Zach is marrying into a Spanish family, I can piggyback along, for this. Suck up the lure of the magic, live a little bit of what has often been my dream, too.

ZAMBONI: But if we can get weird for a second here, man. Some places, do they have an energy, man, about them?

BOURDAIN: What are you saying now?

ZAMBONI: You know, I don't want to get into metaphysics or, you know, some places we go.

BOURDAIN: You're going to be living up in a cave if you keep talking like this.


More wine.

To see Spain, to see it straight, to understand it at all, you should probably peek, if only through spread fingers, at that most Spanish of traditions. Bullfighting.

Meet El Fandi, one of Spain's most dashing and respected bullfighters. He's invited me to La Marquesas Ranch, a private bull ring where he likes to practice.

ALEJANDRO, FRIEND: So what you're going to do now is they're going to check brave --

BOURDAIN: And if the calf is not brave, stew.


BOURDAIN: Along with me for the day, Fuen's brother Alejandro, who, like many Spaniards, consider bullfighting an art. Today a little practice first. And don't worry, this guy is too young to fight.

ALEJANDRO: You see the red cape, you know this is the most thing. Where they make all the art, all the poetry.

BOURDAIN: Why the cape and not the man?

ALEJANDRO: Because it's moving.

BOURDAIN: So that's important?

ALEJANDRO: That's important.

BOURDAIN: You don't want to be moving --

ALEJANDRO: You don't want to be moving at all.


It seems the --

BOURDAIN: This guy clearly has spirit. Right away he tries to take a poke at Zach's femoral artery. Promising.


BOURDAIN: I don't think so.

ALEJANDRO: Sure. You are him. He's going to teach you.




No one likes to look like a pussy on TV, so when El Fandi jokingly suggest I join him in the ring to wave a pink cape at an aggressive young bull, who just moments ago charged my cameraman, I said what any idiot would say -- si.

It all starts well enough. Hey, this is fun. This is easy. Until I get a horn hooked right up next to my nutsack. Then it's not so fun.

Thanks, guys.

This youngster shall live, perhaps to gore a future TV host with his mighty horns.

Now this, this is what a real bull looks like. This is a whole different thing. Five hundred freaking kilos of aggressive charging four-legged killdozer aiming at your meat and two legs.

It's a lot of muscle.

ALEJANDRO: Yes, it's a lot of muscle. That's a big bull. [19:10:41] BOURDAIN: No matter how big, how strong, how scary, for

this intrepid reporter who's seen many animals die for his dinner, this part is never easy.

ALEJANDRO: So as you see, he puts the cape lower. So when the bull brings the face forward, showing the neck -- that's it. That was very good. And -- yes, that's it.

BOURDAIN: Hey, it's time for stew. Bull stew. Our friend went to a better place after all. Like a big pot where he's simmers slowly for hours with local herbs, onions and potatoes. Nothing like a roaring fire in a spread of Garico ham, homemade chorizo, Spanish cheeses, bread, and good olive oil to take the sting out of a near genital mutilation.


ALEJANDRO: Look good, huh? It's not a bad place to come, right?



Now he started at age 19?

EL FANDI, SPANISH BULLFIGHTER: When I was a little kid, I always practiced with bulls. But my first public fight, I was 14.

BOURDAIN: When you were a little boy growing up, you aspired to be a matador.

ALEJANDRO: Yes. Exactly.

BOURDAIN: The matadors were the original rock stars, the very ideal of masculinity, male beauty, and grace. That runs deep. Like it or not, you should probably know this before dating a Spanish guy.

Me, I'll happily see it into it tomorrow. But there is no denying the terrible beauty of a very complex tradition.

It's not about winning. It's not about killing the bull. And nor is it about being just skillful. You have to look good doing it, too.


BOURDAIN: Are there really like really ugly ass bullfighters?


But a really out of shape -- I'm not (INAUDIBLE) with a muffin top. How do you call a muffin top?

ALEJANDRO: I think there's a little -- yes, there's a little bit of everything.

BOURDAIN: Interesting. Well, it was an education today, and a great meal. Thank you.






BOURDAIN: Holy Week or Semana Santa as it's called. Observed all over southern Spain with a seriousness and a fervor you might not see elsewhere. For seven days leading up to Easter, nearly every city in Andalucia gets taken over by ancient processions. To an outsider, it's an impenetrable montage of confusing, yet deeply evocative images.

Figures in dark hoods loom up from every direction. Smoke pots of incense, candles, religious imagery, and the crowds. Flashes of Goya (INAUDIBLE), dimly remembered impressions of the inquisition.

OK, watch this. These guys got to get their painstakingly crafted, massively sized and incredibly heavy and cumbersome float through the door, down the steps, and out into the street.

PEDRO, FRIEND: But the women who escort the Virgin, they wear candles to light the whole way to the cathedral.

BOURDAIN: Pedro is another of Fuen's brothers, the youngest, and when not working for an I.T. company in Ireland, he does this. He carries crushingly heavy religious floats. They're calleed casteleros. And they devout months of training to this.

That thing is huge.

PEDRO: Yes, they're moving. It's huge. And this is very, very heavy. Very heavy throne.

BOURDAIN: The Virgin float, about 3,500 pounds total, and precise dimensions that have to make it through the door just so. The bearers have to kneel. Crawl along with it on their backs to get it through the door. And the main event. Ready, set, up.

Let's face it. I like a procession and all, but who likes a bunch of guys in hoods coming in your general direction? I don't. Frankly, it freaks me out. Time for a drink, perhaps.

This is Tabernacle. As best I understand it an eastern Jesus and Mary-themed drinking establishment, where between drinks one can ponder the agony of Christ, but with sausages.

Is it like this all year or just over Easter?

PEDRO: The whole year.

BOURDAIN: Whole year. It's always like this.

PEDRO: Whole year. Yes.


PEDRO: You have incense all year. Eastern music all year.

BOURDAIN: Now is this a week for quiet contemplation and worship or is this a party week or both?

PEDRO: Both of them.

BOURDAIN: Throughout the course of the week, over 40-odd processions will creep slowly through these streets.


There are different brotherhoods, each with their own sacred colors, crests, insignia and so on. It's their medallions of particular Christ images that adorn the bar. And frankly, they're kind of bumming me out.

Maybe it's just me, but when I'm getting a nice late morning buzz, I don't particularly want Jesus looking down at me from, like, everywhere.

How drunk can you get here? Don't you feel a little guilty for getting really drunk here?

PEDRO: Yes, of course.

BOURDAIN: This is one of my favorite things.

PEDRO: This is your favorite thing.


PEDRO: Try it. It's amazing.

BOURDAIN: Gaze away disapprovingly all you like, Jesus. I am happy now.

Overlooking Granada, the hillside of Sacramonte is riddled with caves, many of them older than anyone even remembers. Spanish gypsies or Gitanos have lived here in caves turned homes like this for hundreds of years.

They call this a juerga, an informal, intimate and spontaneous performance. What jazz musicians might recognize as a jam session.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: This is it. Granada. The only place in the world where you get to see real flamenco in a cave.

BOURDAIN: Alissia (ph) like just about in Granada is an aficionado. Our host, Kuro (ph), is a poet, historian, and a patriarch of the Gitano community here. An icon of the flamenco world. Gitano. You see travelers, Roma people are more embraced by the

culture here than most other places in Europe.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: We have our own gypsies. Those are ours. Yes. We can tell you three things that we -- for sure we do here. We do flamenco. We do tapas. And we do siestas.

BOURDAIN: You do them well.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: Yes. We know how to live, don't we?


UNIDENTIFIED MALE: I am going to have a drink. Because we have 100 years to live. To sleep, to dream, to do everything. Pure emotions. The blood of gypsies boils. You have seen how it is. We make music that comes from our roots. It was created for big spectacles. It's music that comes from within. When there is pain or joyful laughter, we sing.


BOURDAIN: They dig deep for their material here. It means something. They're telling you something about themselves.

What's the word? Duende. What is Duende? I've heard it.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Duende is the artist reaching the sublime.

BOURDAIN: Is it an emotional state or a technical --

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: No. No. It doesn't have to do with passion. It's an ecstasy. It happes a lot when one is in love. Loved, but not loved back.

BOURDAIN: Is unhappiness necessary for great art?

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: It's necessary, but magnifico.

BOURDAIN: Very deep. You'd have to think about that.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: You have to be suffering at that moment. It comes out good too when relaxed.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: And then you perform very well after a couple of these.

BOURDAIN: Right. I may not have Duende, but I have Valentine's.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: And duende comes when horny.

BOURDAIN: I know that expression. Wait a minute.



BOURDAIN: Nighttime in Granada. And it's time to pursue that greatest of Spanish traditions, tapas. You may think you know what a tapa is. Like you did have small bites at some fusion hipster bar where they did a whole lot of little plates. Yes, that ain't a tapa.

So how often do you do this?

ZAMBONI: I do it five days a week.


ZAMBONI: It's rare not to do this. But, you know, it's like on a weekend, you come out for a bunch. Weekday, you come out for one.

BOURDAIN: This is Latana, a little place run by (INAUDIBLE), Jesus and Louisa, brother and sister. One bartender, one cook, taking care of everything.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: Tapa is for free. That's the main issue of the tapa.

BOURDAIN: So you're just paying for the wine.


BOURDAIN: So if I were like a degenerate -- wino, I can still eat well? As long as I can afford my wine, I eat.


BOURDAIN: Let us put this theory into practice. With our first round of drinks comes this.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: Tomato with bread, garlic, olive oil, and blended.

BOURDAIN: Yes. I could pretty much eat that all day long.

That's right. Tapas are free. It shouldn't work, but somehow it does. Another drink, another tapa. Tomatoes, olive oil, bread.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: Yes. Awesome. It's amazing.

BOURDAIN: So I just -- all I've got to do is keep drinking and I'd be eating like this?

ZAMBONI: Keep eating. Yes. Yes. Although maybe you'd be interested in caviar here.



BOURDAIN: But that's not included with my -- UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: Well, that's another point of the tapas.

Usually you have a few tapas. And then, you know --

BOURDAIN: Use that to get hungry.


ZAMBONI: Exactly.


ZAMBONI: They're just hooking you in with this.

BOURDAIN: It's all a scam.

ZAMBONI: It is a scam.

BOURDAIN: Little couple of little nibbles, the next thing you know, you're ordering 200 grams of caviar.

Caviar ain't free, my friend. Delicious, entirely sustainable Spanish caviar from farm (INAUDIBLE).

ZAMBONI: It's funny, you can go into a place like this. Get --

BOURDAIN: Bread and tomato.

ZAMBONI: Yes. Or --

BOURDAIN: Some high test caviar.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: You guys are going to eat the whole thing in one.

BOURDAIN: Sorry, is there something wrong with that? Not even married yet, it's nag, nag, nag. Next wine. Let's do it.

Ah, tapas. What a novel concept. There's even a verb for it. Tapayar. Meaning to take tapas. As in if we're going to tapayar some more, we're going to have to elbow past this crowd of Catholics here.

ZAMBONI: Is it extra insane because it's time of the Semana? Yes, but it's always busy here, man. The bar we were going is just on the other side.

BOURDAIN: Maybe we go around.

With parades crisscrossing the city in every direction, the steady drumbeat warns that your route is about to be cut off entirely for the next 40 minutes.

ZAMBONI: We can across. We can cross.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: Zach, we have to go around.

ZAMBONI: Where? Going around, going around, going around. UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: But we need to walk past.

ZAMBONI: Pardon. Pardon. Pardon. Gracias. Pardon, senora.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: It's impossible. You cannot pass through here.

ZAMBONI: Yes, everybody has to -- it's the only way.

BOURDAIN: People take their processions very seriously here and aren't exactly accommodating to anyone who threatens to block the view.

ZAMBONI: That was amazing, right?


ZAMBONI: See? Tell me (INAUDIBLE) in that music.


BOURDAIN: Finally, bar number two. Oliver. This place is always packed. Beer, please. And with it comes a delightful tapa of mussels steamed in butter and olive oil.

ZAMBONI: Look at that. That's a great tapa. Come on. This is what's different.


ZAMBONI: People come in here and they will eat like this perfectly happy. Perfectly content to forego the table, come on here and stand around and eat like this.

BOURDAIN: One's glass of wine comes with fried eggplant and honey, which sounds to me like it boorish (INAUDIBLE). More wine accompanied by these delicious little clams.


And the main event.

Now we are talking. Yes.

These langosteens, however, are not tapas and consequently not free. But worth it at any price.

That's so totally awesome. We did good work here.

ZAMBONI: Anything else (INAUDIBLE) or should we go on?

BOURDAIN: No, let's move on.

ZAMBONI: All right. Let's move on.

BOURDAIN: As this death march of tapas continues, things start to get a little weird. [19:35:02] This is the story of my life. He doesn't do this at home,

does he?



No, Zach. Now I understand how you feel.



BOURDAIN: Good. Finally. A little empathy. I do like the increasingly meta-aspect of this show. I should really be live streaming. That would really be interesting. Finally, Bar Gallardo. Just making it before closing. Now let's be honest, we've had a lot to eat and drink at this point. Some restraint needs to be shown.

Dude, if you want to eat -- OK. Fried fish.

ZAMBONI: Little ones.

BOURDAIN: Little ones.

ZAMBONI: Then we're done.

BOURDAIN: And cheese.

But instead, three more beers, three more tapas. Gees. Little fried smelt and (INAUDIBLE), baby lamb chops.

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: These are super good.

BOURDAIN: These are super good. I'm uncomfortable with the idea of something for nothing.

ZAMBONI: Right. It's not something for nothing. It's all --

BOURDAIN: It's $3 for a glass of wine in some different (INAUDIBLE).

ZAMBONI: Yes, but if somebody can get demand for it in the U.S., this will take off.

BOURDAIN: No, never.

ZAMBONI: Really?

BOURDAIN: We will never have tapas culture in America. Never. Ever. So you're looking to change the entire day, from the minute you get up in the morning in America. Not in the afternoon. Are you out of your mind?

ZAMBONI: I want to be in (INAUDIBLE), walk to my bar. I want to have a little beer.

BOURDAIN: Yes, I want a golden unicorn that shits money.


Both of those scenarios are equally likely.




BOURDAIN: Every storybook kingdom needs a castle. Granada, it's got a good one. The Alhambra. One of the most enchanted, inscrutable, maddeningly beautiful structures ever created by man. Built on top of ninth century fortifications by the Nasrid Dynasty, then added to and added to as history unfolded through wars and tragedy and invasion and conquest.

ZAMBONI: From the outside, it's very bare. All you see are these tiny windows. And it's projecting impenatrability. But then you come in here.

BOURDAIN: Zach has gone -- well, let's call it what it is. A bit mad about the place. The details, and there are a lot of them, can obsess a man. Plus he's a cinematographer, so you can understand once he starts to really look around how that might get a grip on a guy whose profession is the intricate play between light and darkness.

ZAMBONI: My theory is that they're trying to weave nature, calligraphy, symbols. These are all inscriptions within here. Inscriptions turned into graphics.

BOURDAIN: Why because (INAUDIBLE) depict the words of God?

ZAMBONI: Yes, but what you can depict, and this is what this entire place is, is geometric systems.


When the Nasrid Dynasty lived here, it was a harmonious space where light, shade, water, the transit of the moon and the stars were harnessed and glorified.

ZAMBONI: I think the best assumption is nothing is random. They came here and laid out everything according to --

BOURDAIN: A plan. Yes.

This was a place for reflection. Each element of design presumably intended to have effects both psychological and religious.

ZAMBONI: It's really a cinematographer's paradise. Everything is about light and man. Obviously they weren't cinematographers but everything is framing for them.

BOURDAIN: How long did it take them to build this? ZAMBONI: Hundreds of years.

BOURDAIN: That's why it takes so long for you to get the shot?

ZAMBONI: Oh, snap.

BOURDAIN: In the builders' time, engineers, astronomies, mathematicians were like priests, magicians, possessors of divine knowledge of how the universe worked.

Did they want to contemplate nature or did they want to conquer it, control it?

ZAMBONI: I mean, they were certainly trying to emulate it. You know, all their mathematics were really trying to figure out how nature worked, particularly the square roots and the repetition of pattern.

BOURDAIN: They saw mathematical patterns in the sky and on earth, the way water moved and rippled, the way things grew, the simple pine cone, a fern, a pomegranate, and they thought about the basic truths these things might represent.

ZAMBONI: These symmetries can all be shuffled, spun on any point and they align again with themselves. So if you stretched them out, for them they pointed to infinity.

BOURDAIN: We will understand all things.

ZAMBONI: Through contemplating sacred geometry.

BOURDAIN: How did nature unfold, pattern itself? Could the basic designs of nature, even if divine, be replicated in this magnificent structure?

Trying to solve the root of God here.

ZAMBONI: Exactly.




BOURDAIN: An hour's drive from Granada, the Mediterranean. Unlike much of Spain's coastline ruined by real estate, speculators and overdevelopment, the coast around here in (INAUDIBLE) is largely unspoiled.

I'm on my way to a moraga, a tradition in these parts, best described as the local version of a beach barbecue.

Working the grill, Chef Juan Andres Morilla. He heads the highly regarded El Claustro back in Granada. We're joined by fellow chef, Rafael Luque, and some friends.

You were killing us with some good-looking food here.

Some of that simple yet magical salmareho on toast.

It's one of my favorite things.


BOURDAIN: Fried tuna. Flavor packed like tuna prosciutto.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Some olive oil.

BOURDAIN: Hundred percent, extra virgin from Granada.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Yes, it's spicy. And bitter.

BOURDAIN: Awesome.

Spain is a beautiful country. We're not even eating yet and it's good. Oh, sweet. Want mass. That is like the best thing in the world.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: You want the whole thing?

BOURDAIN: This? Yes.


BOURDAIN: Chocolate.

[19:50:00] This is the chocolate of the gods.

Some grilled octopus and sea brim, and some nice pork tenderloin. And my personal favorite, a particularly delicious morcia, flesh blood sausage. Yes. They put some (INAUDIBLE) coming on. I got to squeeze. I'm telling you. The sexual metaphors are coming. Beautiful. This feeling of -- yes. Looking good. Wow. Look at that. A lot of fat.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Yes. Yes. It's quite nice.

BOURDAIN: Those were happy pigs. Lazy pigs.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: The ones we like. The ones we breed here.

BOURDAIN: Yes, the pigs and the bulls are very happy here. Controlled, they're not.


BOURDAIN: OK. Enough with the work. Let's eat. Nice. Awesome. Great meal. Great, great, great. Really. This is the dream of all the world. The dream is to live in Granada. You know, work in the morning, have a one-hour in the afternoon, at night go out and have that life. You know. Go out and see your friends and eat tapa and drink red wine and be in a beautiful place.

You know, to have this kind of music and this food and this kind of culture and to look out the window and to see Spain.





UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Family is very, very, very important.

BOURDAIN: Right. See. He did it right. He's marrying into a Spanish family in Granada.


BOURDAIN: Cheating, man.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: Yes. He's very lucky.

BOURDAIN: Very smart. I know. I know.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: And a smart guy.


Look, no one is going to dare dream of this because this is too much to dream for. This is extraordinary. But an ordinary life in Spain looks pretty good to me.




BOURDAIN: The new swinging Zamboni lifestyle. Rise early like 9:00 a.m. then it's down to the corner coffee shop for a cafe coleche con baso. Maybe a small breakfast like toast with tomato. No more than that. Light. Simple. Because there will be a lot more eating and drinking today, and you want to be ready.

By 2:00 p.m., he's made his way back up hill to mom's place.

ZAMBONI: Every day I come here for lunch. And I walk in and she says, get us two beers. So I'll get two beers from the fridge and watch her cook.

BOURDAIN: Everybody's home for Easter. Maria Jose, Zach's soon to be mother-in-law, and Caloy, that's dad. Plus Alejandro and Pedro, the soon-to-be brothers-in-law who you've already met.

What this nice family doesn't realize is they aren't just gaining a son but also an annoying half drunk and extremely hungry Uncle Tony.

And I know what happens here. ZAMBONI: Yes. So let's -- OK.


BOURDAIN: Hamon. Sitting there ready to be carved.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: In Spain there is a saying, the best medicine is ham and chorizo.

ALEJANDRO: But you know, got to prove us that he was able to cut the ham before he proposed to my sister.

BOURDAIN: I think that's a completely reasonable policy.

Eventually the appropriate hour for lunch approaches.

So not to embarrass you publicly, but Maine is not exactly the Mediterranean of America. Let's put it that way. How is he adapting to the Spanish lifestyle? I mean, let's face it, he's a mean --

UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: He's more Spanish than me.


UNIDENTIFIED FEMALE: Yes. In the first week he was like, I don't understand. Week after, (INAUDIBLE).

BOURDAIN: It's interesting to see how you've made the transition. Cheers.

ZAMBONI: Cheers.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE: This is Remojon Granadino. It's eaten during the Holy Week, especially in Granada.

BOURDAIN: First off, this. Bakalou salad. Salt cod, egg, black olives, oranges, tomatoes dressed in olive oil. Remember, this is Holy Week. Maria Jose is preparing recipes that go back through the family so far that nobody knows exactly where they even came from.

Migas, another iconic dish of Analucia. Informally referred to as the shepherd's lunch as the story goes. Born as a way to use old, hard bread and combine all the week's leftovers. I'm told that every household in Spain has a variation. What changes is what you put on it. Today it's sardines, cod, chorizo, melon, and peppers.

Man, that's a lot of good stuff in one bowl.


BOURDAIN: So how often do you eat this well?

ZAMBONI: Every lunch is like this.

BOURDAIN: Every lunch in your life.

ZAMBONI: Every day I'm here. But lunch is --


ZAMBONI: Big. Big lunch, siesta. But you can't -- you know, I used to try to resist siesta. And tou can't do it here. Society will not accept you not taking a siesta here. But that's the flaw of life here.

BOURDAIN: That sort of begs the question now. While I'm busy hating you for your life, how often do you getting a drunk a day?

ZAMBONI: Twice. One and a half.


UNIDENTIFIED MALE: No. No. He doesn't get drunk.

ZAMBONI: That is so Spanish, by the way. Everybody has a very distinct opinion and it's completely different. It's like this is a fact.


BOURDAIN: When my time comes, I pretty much want to die at a table like this.

Good work, Zamboni. Good work.

So, Zach, happy with the show?

ZAMBONI: Hope we don't suck on television.

BOURDAIN: Dude, I think I'm setting a pretty low bar. I'm going to tell you this relaxed lifestyle, you know, lounging around eating and drinking. And no nap is long enough for me. Life is good.

I envy you, Zach Zamboni. And we're out. Nice end.