The only women-first food & travel show

The Bourdain model, reimagined. #TravelLikeAWoman

I’m a staunch fan of the late Anthony Bourdain. I loved “Parts Unknown,” but it was “No Reservations” that really sparked my curiosity from the first moment I watched an episode. It was Iceland. I had already visited the island, but Bourdain’s take struck me as fresh, accessible and, importantly, more of an immersion than a tourist’s experience. I instantly wanted to visit again, and every other place where Bourdain walked this earth.

I always admired Bourdain’s attention to, and respect of, local culture. When he sought the company of local artists, chefs and even families who acted as guardians of longstanding culinary practices, it felt genuine. The stories were crisp and authentic, and they stoked my curiosity.

Bourdain also seemingly traveled in ways that I prefer: light, low-key and hanging with the locals. His stories encouraged me to steer clear of tourist traps, long lines and endless crowds. They helped shaped my own opinions, too—for example, that a visit to Paris in January is far more appealing than smack-dab in the middle of Bastille Day celebrations. (I’ve done both and I’ll take a wintry Paris over July every single time.)

The world lost Bourdain six years ago this Saturday, June 8. (It was also our son’s 16th birthday; he loved Bourdain and has a burgeoning culinary career of his own.)

And yet our fascination with his storytelling remains strong, thanks in large part to journalists, documentaries, endless fan accounts and social media algorithms that keep his voice and spirit alive. My own brother has a penchant for tagging me in Bourdain memes—“this sounds just like my sister.”

A snapshot from one of the endless social media posts where I’ve been tagged by my brother. Anthony Bourdain, d. 2018.

But I don’t claim to be Bourdain. Yes, I’m a storyteller and a communicator, and I love to travel. And no, I’m not a chef, though I do have some pretty rad knife skills.

There is one very real difference, however, between me and Anthony:

I’m not a man.

There are two foundational truths about humans that stand the test of time, regardless of gender, innovation or technology: we’re curious, and we love storytelling. Stories give us the opportunity to imagine ourselves in the places, settings and situations we hear and see. When our curiosity is piqued, it compels us to dig deeper into other stories of the same genre or, in some cases, to take steps in new and exciting directions for our own lives.

Me, age 28, just before I blew up my life (it was a good thing) and long before Bourdain. Reykjavik, Iceland, December 31, 1999.

As women, our curiosity has grown—especially over the past decade—through stories, books, television, movies, podcasts, blogs and more that continue to nudge us to embrace our independence and dreams. Inspiration and action come easier when we see other women doing what we love to do and what we imagine doing ourselves.

For me, inspiration has always been the power of food & travel shows. The genre is a hit with women; according to Nielsen, cooking, docuseries, and travel-related programming are top-5 viewing choices for women. Stories of destinations, countries, cities, cultures, adventures, food, art and more expand our horizons and inspire our own ambitions: To travel. To eat. To explore. To experience art. To create ourselves.

But the challenge up to this point is that the most popular food & travel shows, with a few exceptions here and there, have predictable formulas.

• Women host cooking programs. They stand and stir in their kitchens to entertain guests or feed their families.

• Men host the travel shows. They take adventures, explore new places, meet new people and try new things.

True, we can still be inspired by these male-driven shows. I certainly am. But unconscious bias is no joke, and it’s incredibly hard to find women chefs or artists in most food & travel programming. Add to that any sort of discouragement having to do with stereotypes—that women can’t or shouldn’t travel, especially alone; women can’t lead or start businesses; women cannot be successful fine artists; the list goes on—and it can be incredibly hard to find a personal connection with a show.

In short, women will easily tell themselves they can’t do something if they don’t see other women doing it too. It starts young, and trust me, it sticks around. I’m 53 and I still battle the whispers telling me to stop, slow down, don’t try it, give up. (Misogyny is a quiet and mental disease.)

And as much as I admired Bourdain, I didn’t really see myself in much of his content.

I’ve been a fortunate woman in my own life. Damn fortunate. Plenty of amazing, respectful men have influenced my life and supported my endeavors, from my late father (an artist in his own right) to terrific professional mentors in my communications career (several of them granted me “Honorary Dave” status, a plaque I treasure in my home office). And my husband, Ole, is 100% an equal partner in our relationship and my biggest cheerleader. (Happy 20th anniversary, babe.)

That’s right: I’m an “Honorary Dave.”

I also know, however, that Dad or Ole or the Daves would have a far easier time with solo travel—or any of the adventures Bourdain had—than I ever will.

Over on the Solo in Style Facebook community (filled with more than half a million solo women travelers over 50 from all over the world) one of the top shared experiences is about solo dining: community members aren’t afraid of dining alone per se, but rather, they share how often other dining guests, wait staff and more harangue women for doing it.

“You’re too pretty to be dining alone.” What the fuck? Did anyone tell Bourdain that? Would anyone tell my husband that?

And right there is why women need to see ourselves in food & travel programming.

Think of the stories we’re missing about women chefs and artists in places around the world. Women chefs hold fewer than 10% of all Michelin stars worldwide. Women artists represent less than 5% of all top sales at fine art auctions worldwide. According to the James Beard Foundation in 2021, less than 20% of all head cook/chef positions in the U.S. are held by women.

These are macro numbers. But we know—because women are smart—that macro numbers are influenced locally. So when we see food & travel shows about places around the world not talking with women artists or chefs or entrepreneurs, who are we helping?

Our motivation all along with this business and its various iterations has been to help women artists grow. That extends to artists in all mediums, including food. And now that it feels like we’ve settled in, The WTAF Show is indeed the right lane to do just that: what better way to help than to share their stories, and grow an audience who sees, hears and is inspired by their works? And if it helps women step out and travel themselves with confidence, and support these artists and chefs themselves, then it’s a win-win in our books.

The Bourdain model for food & travel shows works. It’s successful because it’s tapped into the imaginations of viewers. They love stories and they’re curious. And Bourdain’s content has aged somewhat well, despite the massive cultural and geopolitical shifts that have happened since. His shows might have outdated facts and statistics about the countries he visited, but we still marvel over the stories and the experiences.

Other shows have been built on the Bourdain model, and quite successfully. Phil Rosenthal, host of the wildly popular “Somebody Feed Phil” (a show that the Boomer and GenX women in the Solo in Style community absolutely love) said this in 2018 while on The Special Sauce Podcast:

“The way I sold the show…I said, ‘I’m exactly like Anthony Bourdain if he was afraid of everything….I mean, I’m the guy watching him, not really wanting to go to Borneo and have a tattoo pounded into my chest with nails.”

So I’m not going to shy away from it: The WTAF Show is definitely built on the Bourdain model.

Here is how I’d sell The WTAF Show:

“We’re exactly like Anthony Bourdain if he was a woman. We’re not afraid of everything and we’re not waiting anymore. We’re definitely going to Borneo; maybe we’ll get a hand-tapped Dayak tattoo while we learn about Pala Tumpa, the centuries-old tattoo art practice that only women can have. We’re also going to tell you about Chef Michelle Goh, the young 2024 Michelin-honored chef who hails from Kuching.”

Now that sounds like one hell of an episode.

Chef Michelle Goh (right) and Chef Pongcharn Russell with their Michelin star for Mia Restaurant, Bangkok, Thailand, 2024.

This is what we mean when we say it’s time to #TravelLikeAWoman. We’ll always have a reverence for Bourdain and his inspiration, but there are millions of stories that haven’t been shared yet in food & travel programming—and we can’t leave it to the guys to do it for us. We can’t allow discouragement to stop us. We can’t let the whispers in our head keep us from the things we want to experience.

It’s time. We have places to see, stories to tell and curiosity to stoke.

So stick around, ladies. We’re just getting started.

KG