The grassroots reselling market has never been as robust as it now. There’s Poshmark for trendy apparel, eBay for discontinued products , and Facebook Marketplace for used furniture. But before all of those, there was Craigslist, whose entire selling premise regularly centered on the weird, the wild, and the most disconcerting objects. Say, a smoker claiming to host the infernal spirit of chef, author, and media darling Anthony Bourdain.
Completely glossing over the obviously menacing premise of a casual haunting, the advertisement claims the smoker is “possessed” by Bourdain with very tongue-in-cheek descriptions anthropomorphizing the object, as if recounting the exploits of a Brave Little Toaster-esque appliance with big culinary aspirations. The post’s author goes on to allege that the Primo ceramic grill loves “dirty-water hot dogs” and tubed meats, isn’t a fan of craft beer or Guy Fieri, refuses to cook meatless meats, and blasts music by Midwestern punk rock band the Dead Boys.
Christian Helms, the seller of the supposedly supernatural ceramic smoker, is counting on the albeit out-there angle of his listing to sell his cooking equipment. He tells Eater that he originally listed the smoker with a straightforward description, but there were no responses. So he used his branding background: As the founder and creative director of the Helms Workshop agency, he knew he could jazz up the listing using an actual experience he’d had with Bourdain as the springboard. And much like the people and companies behind so many projects centered on the chef who died in 2018, profits are the main priority. “If I just put some poetic license to it, it’ll at least get some eyeballs on it, and somebody might share it with somebody else and I can eventually get this thing sold,” Helms says.
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In 2012, Bourdain filmed the premiere episode of the final No Reservations season in Austin during South by Southwest. During the production process, a producer had struggled to find an ideal backyard to film a scene with the host and noise-pop band Sleigh Bells. They eventually landed on using Helms’s home, who he readied his own smoker, thinking that Bourdain would cook with it. But instead, the team brought over their own equipment to roast a whole hog and boil crawfish. But still, Bourdain at least stood next to the smoker. “We’ve jokingly called it ‘Little Tony’ over the years because of that,” Helms says. Of Bourdain, he describes: “It was really impressive in a non-impressive way. He was just a really genuine, sweet dude.” He recounts how they bonded over their children: Bourdain was missing his daughter and asked if he could carry Helm’s baby, which he did often during the filming.
The actual smoker and add-ons retail for nearly $2,500, per the post, but it’s being sold for $450 — the “spirit of Anthony Bourdain” is listed as “priceless.” Helms is selling this smoker so he can upgrade to a new one. Already, he’s gotten some serious inquiries along with plenty of not-so-serious ones.
Since Bourdain’s death, the chef/author/host/food explorer, whose many lifelong struggles were well-documented in pre- and post-humous media, has become his own genre of media, as well as a revenue-hungry market. There’s a book by his collaborator and assistant, a re-release of his cookbook by his publisher, a shiny documentary, a most-likely forthcoming biopic from cool indie distributor A24 and now this smoker, blessed by the proximity of Bourdain himself. Who knows how he’d feel about all of that, but, in this capitalistic world we live in now, remembrance often gets tied up with profits. Six years later, people are still mourning Bourdain’s loss, even if it’s by selling and buying items that vaguely have to do with the celebrated chef.
