Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown

So I'm trying to understand Buenos Aires,

but I've only got a week.

Kind of amazing they work, you know?

I'm still, like, I look at a plane and I'm figuring...

I understand scientifically how they fly,

but it doesn't look like it should work.

No, it doesn't.

That's a big hunk of metal.

Yeah.

And who are these people?

They're waiting for friends to arrive or no?

They're just here looking at planes.

Yes, it's popular.

You come here, and you watch a couple of planes come and go.

The whole family.

Yeah.

Buenos Aires, capital of Argentina,

second largest country in South America.

It's got a quirky, unique character all its own.

It looks like no other place, and it feels unlike any other.

Oh, silence.

Yeah, right?

It's very pretty here.

I mean, it's really beautiful.

I'm glad I came in the summer.

It's really quiet.

It's got sort of a mournful, sad,

sweet quality that I like.

Fits with the architecture.

Where does everybody go?

Like now, where is everybody?

The city's empty.

The month of January, everyone's gone for the holidays.

January and February are the hottest months here,

middle of summer and most Porteños

who can afford it get out of town to cooler climes.

They go to Uruguay or Mar del Plata,

which our beach, or to Patagonia or to the north.

- I have a home in Patagonia. - Uh-huh.

Far away from any restaurant.

It has no internet, no electricity, no phone.

I mean, it's a little anti-social, for a guy

who's a communicator... You're all over television.

Yeah, I... I'm not very social.

Chef-Restaurateur Francis Mallmann

is one of the biggest and most influential figures

in Latin American gastronomy, a TV star,

head of a restaurant empire, and now in middle age,

gives delightfully few shits about anything unimportant.

This is a restaurant I love.

Carlitos.

He serves you whatever he has.

There's no menu.

Of all the places in the world

that Francis Mallmann can eat and has eaten,

it's this place he wanted to take me to,

Bodegón Don Carlitos.

It's him and his wife in the kitchen

with the two daughters.

There's nobody else, and they've been open for 45 years.

An unassuming family-run joint

across from the soccer stadium.

So who are the customers ordinarily?

You... you know, he doesn't have prices.

It's fun because you see very simple people,

and if you look sort of wealthy and elegant,

you will get a big check, and if not,

you will get a small check.

That's the way it works.

- Ah, this is Carlitos. - Carlitos.

How do you do, sir?

How are you?

Welcome.

Thank you.

Oh, beautiful.

I will have this guy.

There are gods here besides tango and football,

or soccer, as we call it.

There is beef.

Porteños, as residents of Buenos Aires are called,

like beef and meat in general, but particularly beef.

That's fantastic.

Man, I love this place already.

Yes, I love meat.

I eat meat every day.

The morcilla.

Now that's exciting.

This is one of my favorite things on Earth.

Boudin.

Love it.

Now, it's a proud country.

I mean, one of the stereotypes is that Argentines

are too proud, that they're... and full of themselves.

Vain, proud.

If this is so, why is psychotherapy

so huge in this country?

I mean, this is the kingdom of doubt.

You know, my kids have been to the shrink

since they're eight for a year or two

because, you know, go to the shrink

and talk to someone who you don't know.

With whom you can say whatever you want.

I did it myself a couple of years when I was 30.

I mean, it's an extraordinary thing

because in many cultures to confess that you need

to even confide in someone is seen as a sign of weakness.

Here everybody does it and in no way frown upon it.

Mm-hmm.

It's kind of cool, 'cause I could... I really,

I could use somebody that I... I need somebody to talk to.

Have you ever done it?

Um...

I was a teenager and my parents

caught me with drugs and as part of the deal

to stay out of, uh... Stay out of trouble,

I saw a therapist briefly.

Mm-hmm.

Meet Marianna, my therapist.

Argentina has the distinction of being home

to more headshrinkers per capita than anywhere else

in the world.

So, Tony, what brought you here?

What brought me here?

Well, things have been happening, like I will find myself

in an airport, for instance, and I'll order

an airport hamburger.

It's an insignificant thing.

It's a small thing.

It's a hamburger.

- Yeah. - But it's not a good one.

Suddenly I look at the hamburger,

and I find myself in a spiral of depression.

Yes.

That can last for days.

George Orwell said something that really upset me

because he talked about human beings

are essentially tubes into which we shove food.

Mm-hmm.

And this is my job.

I travel around the world with these people,

and... and they turn on the cameras,

and then for a certain period of time,

my job is to shove food into my face.

And... And what's wrong with that?

Um... You have to eat.

Wow, look at that.

They don't just mess around here, right?

It's beautiful.

Something... It's perfect food.

Wow. I mean, it's really unnecessarily delicious.

What kind of food is this?

Where is it rooted?

Between Italy and Spain, and then a bit

of the gaucho too, with the meat and the way he cooks it.

'Cause La Boca, this neighborhood, is very Italian.

They say that this is where tango was born,

in this little street, two blocks away here

called Caminito.

And where does that come from emotionally?

The need for tango.

Why here?

Tango is extremely sad.

It's about love, about despair.

It's about poverty, and the dance, I think,

is one of the most elegant dances in the world.

You know, they barely move, and... and suddenly, they stop.

When they stop, you know, you tremble because you feel

that the man is sort of... inside of her almost,

and then he goes on.

It's crushingly lonely.

I travel over 200 days a year.

So I had this dream again that I've had as long

as I can remember.

I'm stuck in a vast, old Victorian hotel

with endless rooms and hallways,

trying to check out but I can't.

I spend a lot of time in hotels, but this one is menacing

because I just can't leave it.

And then there's another part to this dream always,

where I'm trying to go home,

but I can't quite remember where that is.

Hm, are you alone?

I'm alone in this dream, yes.

In my heart, what I like of Buenos Aires

and Argentina is that we take time to sit down

and have lunch every day.

Tony.

Hungry?