Anthony Bourdain ate his fair share of great food over the years, but one soup recipe
held a truly special place in his heart — and you won't believe what it looks like.
It was during a childhood trip to France that legendary chef and writer Anthony Bourdain first
discovered that food was more than a thing people ate when they got hungry. A single
raw oyster fished straight out of the ocean changed his life forever — but this pivotal
moment was far from the only memorable impression that France left on Bourdain.
In one episode of Parts Unknown, Bourdain lauded the rich,
spicy Vietnamese soup bún bò Huế as "the greatest soup in the world."
"It really is just the top of the mountain."
But, when it came to sentimentality, a different soup reigned supreme in
Bourdain's heart over his stomach: French soupe de poisson. As he once told Food & Wine:
"This more than anything is the flavor of my childhood vacations in France."
As much as New York City, the chef's career and preferences were colored by
his connection to France. Bourdain was born of French descent, spoke the language growing up,
spent multiple summers in France, and eventually became the executive chef of NYC's Brasserie
Les Halles, an esteemed French fine dining bistro. He was an outspoken fan of traditional
French classics such as tartiflette and poulet basquaise, and he raved about Le Dôme, a seafood
restaurant in Montparnasse. In his first show, A Cook's Tour, Bourdain and his brother Chris
traversed their ancestral homeland of Arcachon, France, trying the foods on which they had cut
their teeth. So it only makes sense that a French seafood stew would top his list.
If you've never tried it before, soupe de poisson is a seafood soup from the South of France. Each
bowlful is garnished with garlicky rouille-smeared toasts and a sprinkle of parmesan. The soup itself
is made from a complex combination of saffron, orange, fennel, and Pernod,
an anise liqueur with a strong licorice flavor. In this murky, intensely flavored broth floats the
star of the show: fish heads. Not to be confused with bouillabaisse, another French seafood stew,
soupe de poisson is made with small, whole, gutted fish with heads intact — Bourdain
recommended porgy and whiting. Alternatively, an assortment of fish bones and heads works too.
In true Bourdain fashion, this dish makes for a terrific exercise in branching out from your
culinary comfort zone. As weird as they might seem, fish heads are loaded with collagen,
making for a richer, more viscous broth. And, in a fitting tribute to the champion of eating local,
this recipe is also a great excuse to visit your neighborhood fishmonger. If
fish heads just aren't your style, you can use a fish with a decent amount of
natural gelatin in it to ensure the soup retains its signature richness. Rockfish
from the Pacific Northwest is a good stand-in. In fact, the story goes that
soupe de poisson began as a thrifty way to enjoy less desirable, less expensive fish.
In A Cook's Tour, Bourdain explained that, to him,
French cuisine wasn't so much about glossy Parisian baguettes as it was
pungent seafood caught by small-time fishermen. As he waxed nostalgic:
"I have powerful memories of the taste of murky brown fish soup at the local joint,
the taste of saucisson à l'ail, the smell of Gitanes cigarettes."
Indeed, these sensory, fish-heavy memories would shape much of Bourdain's career in the culinary
world. In addition to serving as the executive chef of Les Halles, he also wrote the definitive
Les Halles Cookbook, which is loaded with classic French bistro recipes made the traditional way.
In a later interview at Les Halles, when asked why he fell in love with
French cuisine so much, Bourdain answered:
"[Because] I grew up with it, my father was of French stock. Because it was the basis,
the fundamental cuisine for all high-end cooking at the time [...] And for better or worse,
it was the food I had the best feeling for [...] particularly this kind of cooking. You know,
rustic. These are recipes that were developed by farmers, grandmothers, and hungry people."
Fittingly, one of the defining characteristics of good French soupe de poisson is that it
shouldn't really look pretty. The beauty of this classic comes from its flavorful
ingredients and masterful assembly, not from an aesthetic presentation.