The on camera demonstration of high speed butchering techniques and BBQ prep in the RV kitchen caused, I suspect, bleeding brain-sweats at Travel Channel legal department. "Don't Try This At Home, Kids!" Every once in a while I get to do a show that's total playtime. The car? Free (for the duration of the show). All I had to do was drive it. The people silly enough to entrust me with this expensive piece of high performance equipment only asked that I "have fun." "How does it handle off the road?" I asked, expecting to frighten them. Nope. I was encouraged to beat the shit out of the thing. And I did my very best.

Loaded up the iPod with a "desert-driving mix of ZZ Top, Lynrd Skynrd, Taj Mahal, the Stones, Tito and Tarantula, James Brown, John Fogerty, Prodigy, Steppenwolf and every song I could find with the words "Road" or "Highway" "Wheels" in it. Chris, by the way, my supposedly responsible executive producer and head of the freakin' company, sitting in the passenger seat? Hardly the voice of moderation. "Faster!! Faster!!" he'd hiss, through spittle flecked lips. "Make it jump! Get some air!!" he'd shriek, urging me on -- when already off the road, tearing along at 60 through some dusty arroyo. I gotta work this product placement vehicle racket more often. And I'm open to suggestions from any gearhead fans on what cars might be fun to misuse next.

Other than my first act of product-related whoredom, the Southwest Road Show was notable for a few other features: The return of veteran cameraman Jerry Risius being the most welcome and obvious. As some commenters have noticed and wondered about, we tend to rotate key crew members on tours of duty. Producer Tracey Gudwin, for instance, has been living in Berlin since shortly after the Berlin show and returns for the Egypt and upcoming Venice shows. Jerry, recovering from the cumulative effects of a nacho-related head trauma in the Texas/Mexican Border show and the Beirut experience, returned for the Road Show -- filling in for Zach Zamboni (who was busy shooting the more lucrative feature film Naughty ButtMasters #7).

Nothing is better for a brain bruise and a nervous breakdown than being forced to competitively shove a 72 ounce steak, fried shrimp, bread, salad and potato down your gullet in front of a crowd of hooting Texans (and our cameras). And of course, there was Alice. Cooper that is. About the nicest, most normal guy you could ever meet. It actually makes perfect sense that he own a sports bar -- as he's a sports nut. And I could have spent ten hours easily shooting the shit about 60's era Detroit bands and baseball. I almost worked through some trauma of my own: a Randy Johnson related problem I've had since the Yankees lost to the D-Backs in the play-offs a while back.

It was inevitable, if you think about it, that I should make television, eat BBQ and play with large caliber automatic weapons with Ted Nugent. It was, I think, only a matter of time. In fact, midway through shooting a scene at "The Nuge's" ranch, I got a text from Mario Batali -- inviting me out for drinks or some kind of mayhem. I texted back that I regretted being unable to join him as I was currently unloading a belt-fed M-60 machine gun at Ted Nugent's place. His totally unsurprised response was "Of course you are."

I didn't seek Ted out, by the way. I was summoned. He called a while back, said we should make television together - -and then told me exactly how. When the Nuge says jump? You ask only "How High?" and "How much ammo will I need?" In TedWorld, by the way, it all makes perfect sense.

And finally, this was the episode where I, at last, got to settle the score with Switzerland. Perhaps launching an ICBM at them was a bit much -- but my skin really and truly crawls at even the sight of an Alpine vista. I don't know why exactly. Maybe it has something to do with Helmut, the Swiss/German barber I had to go to as a child. He had one of those wall murals of Lake Geneva with snow capped alps in the background -- and I always associate those images with getting an ugly and humiliating haircut from a stern-looking old guy with a scary German accent. Followed by bullying at school. Even Ricola commercials make me break into a cold sweat.

Lederhosen, Alpine hats, cuckoo clocks, St Bernards, cross country skiers and the Sound of Music make me phsyically ill. They remind me of hair clippings itching my nose, a coiff that would make a middle Brady blush, and the feeling of many tiny little fists in my face as from behind, someone goes for the atomic wedgie . So it was with real joy that I initiated launch sequence. Hell, I ain't ever making a show there anyhow. And their cheese? It sucks.

The end result of the above -- at least (and only) as far as cuisine -- is more often than not, good.

People eat what they eat for a reason. And they tend to cook well for a reason. That reason may no longer exist as a prime motivator -- but it's there if you care to go back and look.

People may not have to eat salt cod in Portugal or "stock fish" in the Caribbean anymore. The days of conquest for one -- and slavery for the other, are long gone. But they do (Cause it's good. Or they've managed to make it good.) The relatively non-perishable, seige-friendly cuisine of Fez, Morocco, the delicious one-time scraps and beans of Brazilian feijouda, the Spam cults of Korea and Hawaii, the bony delights of Malaysian sup tulang, the simple act of coffee drinking relate directly to the collision of cultures and, usually, to people doing bad things to each other.

No reason to fight the Battle of Hastings -- or Dien Bien Phu over and over again, or wring our hands, particularly, over who was right and who was wrong. But it's certainly useful and appropriate when visiting a country, I think, to acknowledge that wars, for instance, happened, and to take note of who won -- and who lost. More often than not, it's why there are still potatoes on your plate -- instead of a starchy farinaceous product, couscous or rice.

I'm not a pundit, an activist, an advocate for anybody. My political views are my own -- and I try -- really try, to keep them to myself. The last person I want to hear talk about politics or the nation's conscience or obligation to the world is some Hollywood ****tard. Some well-paid douchebag who lives in a compound in Malibu has, to my mind, very little of value or interest to say to anyone who's worried about the price of milk.
Neither you (nor I) should have to be preached to by Sean Penn or Leonardo DiCaprio -- from between the legs of a beautiful actress -- (even if I agree with them much of the time). Ditto, anyone lucky enough, like me, to have a job writing and making self-indulgent television.

That said, there are certain things one cannot help but notice when making food and travel television. One tends to notice -- as in Laos -- when one has to be careful about where one steps on the way to one's meal. Or (as in Laos and Cambodia when the people one encounters at meals are missing limbs. To not mention these screamingly obvious features -- how they might have occurred and how they remain factors in every day life, would feel ... bizarre.

It is no slight, for instance, against those Americans who fought along side of the Hmong people -- to mention the final outcome of what happened there. Just as it is useful and appropriate to remind people that the Hmong, our allies, who lost so much in that struggle, still exist. Nothing "political" about acknowledging history. Particularly, when you are about to sit down and eat with it.

On a slightly different front, my crew and I spend a LOT of time in countries where the government's attitude towards human rights is not what you (presumably) or I or the residents of a comfortable, well fed community in say ... the Berkeley area, might find appropriate or acceptable. If -- as has been suggested by some viewers, we have an obligation to avoid ANY country where human rights are routinely violated or where equality of the sexes is not respected, the list of shows we would NOT have shown you at all might include China, Laos, Vietnam, Uzbekistan, Russia, Egypt, Malaysia, Indonesia and on and on.

If you wanted to put a really fine point on it, you could argue that even Colombia or sybaritic Brazil, don't stand the test of Political Correctness. I doubt, for that matter, that even we do these days. So ... what then? Take this argument to its logical extreme and we'd end up making shows exclusively in Sweden and Iceland.

"How can you make TV in China and NOT mention the oppression of the Tibetan people?!" - Goes one argument. And it's a pretty compelling one. But once committed to shooting in a country, one becomes very aware of those one will leave behind. The people who open their homes to our cameras, who guide us, drive us, feed us -- they LIVE in the places I'm talking blithely about on camera. If I start asking them questions like "So ...How was that re-education camp?" It could put all involved with us in a very tough spot long after me and the crew have gone and are comfortably back in New York.

It's a fine line we have to walk sometimes. But what you should know about the leader whose biquitous and unsmiling portrait hangs on the walls of every home and business in Country X will always be mentioned -- and the fact that it's on every wall should tell you plenty.

Conversely, I believe it to be useless, counterproductive and just ... willfully ignorant to demonize everyone in a country because one finds their national policies or cultural beliefs repellent. The very last thing any of us aspire to do when making "No Reservations" is show you a definitive portrait of a nation, a culture or a religion -- or even a city. It's not the "Best" or "Worst" of anything. It's not even the "typical", necessarily -- though we try and show everyday foods and life as much as we can. This is as true of the Saudi Arabia show as it is of ... the Cleveland show.

At their best, our shows go like this:

I encounter some people -- or take them along. They show me their lives. We go some places --meet some friends. I tell you how that felt to me. THAT'S what we do. Now, if I've managed to convey those things in entertaining -- and possibly informative fashion (good or bad), then I've succeeded. If, inadvertently, I've found -- once again -- that people around the world, more often than not -- are actually pretty nice -- and not THAT different than you and me? Well, great. Score one for optimism. I'm not, however, in the feel good business. But if you're genuinely nice to me and my crew, hospitable and I actually have a good time in your home? I'll make every effort to reflect that feeling.

Defining the "character" of a people is a complex matter. I have had many a warm and wonderful time in places where -- just across town, it is likely that someone was getting their testicles twisted by some very unpleasant policemen. Just as I have been places where Very Bad Things have happened to Very Nice People, I have also met many Very Nice People who have done Very Bad Things.

Where we, as Americans, fall within those parameters, is open to debate. Personally, I embrace that grey zone -- where morality, such as it is, is defined by how we, as individuals, can -- given the opportunity -- treat each other at the table. If nothing else, it's a start.

On "No Reservations," I've sat down to eat with many different kinds of people over the years: Miguel Cotto punches people in the head until they become unconscious -- for a living. Nice guy. Really knows a good place for roast pork. For much of his life, Victor Cherkashin was in charge of all KGB operations against the USA -- and personally oversaw some of our worst and most destructive traitors. Sweetest old man you'd ever hope to meet. And good pickled mushrooms! Ted Nugent (coming soon) holds political views which would make Ghengis Khan blanche. He also knows good brisket. I really like all of them. And I think you should too.

Oh yeah ... Uruguay was really cool. NOT a good place to be a vegetarian.

But the train was here, now. A decision had to be made. And Buffalo was looking like a mighty strong contender. Out of thousands of often terrifying submissions, dark figures muttering at the camera from blood-freckled cellar rumpus rooms, there were actually a few really good ones. Nelson Starr's admirably deranged ode to Buffalo was a snowy masterpiece -- if limited in its culinary offerings. It had the advantage of being close. And that it kind of "rawked".

Augusto Elefanio's enthusiastic plea to take him along to the Philippines, so that he could reconnect with his roots, was also excellent and heartfelt and might get the masses of Filipinos who've been (understandably) hectoring me ("Why haven't you been to my country yet?") finally, off my back.

Eric Rivera suggested Thailand -- from a kick-boxer's perspective, in an articulate, compassionate video presenting a place that was already familiar to me and well known for its outrageously varied and delicious cuisine.

And then there was Danya Alhamrani's earnest, professional looking tape urging me to join her in Saudi Arabia -- just about the last place I would ever have considered going.Unfortunately, for my plans to basically rig this whole, shameful project, to pick some marginally comprehensible, and relatively unthreatening fan and spend a few days shooting footage of me comically avoiding the contest winner -- in like, Bermuda, or Montauk, Danya's video was just so damn good. And Saudi Arabia seemed like such a difficult, even foolish option.

I mean, let's face it, how much fun could it be? Most of the hijackers came from Saudi Arabia. They're mostly pretty fundamentalist Muslims! Women cover themselves head-to-toe in black. The men wear head dress and white floor length, skirty things! It's hot --really hot. There's NO BEER!! If any destination was predestined to suck, this was it.

But Danya Alhamrani is an extraordinary woman. And the fact that during finalist interviews, she pretty much challenged me to visit her country and still think ill of it, was well, pretty persuasive. She touched that obstinate streak of contrariness in me that little voice that's always telling me that if I'm sure of a thing -- and everybody agrees with me -- then I'm probably wrong.

And it's nice being wrong. One of the delights of travel is finding, again and again that all your preconceptions, all the conventional wisdom, everything you thought for sure was right -- is, in fact, wrong -- or at least, far from a complete picture. Saudi Arabia, it turned out, was fun. Really!

I urge you to take a look at producer Amy Teuteberg's excellent and provocative crew blog. There's not much I can add to that (and what you see in the show) -- except to lavish even more praise on the remarkable Danya, her friends and family. It's only right, I think, that a tough, independent Western woman's perspective should be most useful and relevant when talking about what the experience was like. It is women, after all, who are denied the right to drive, who must cover themselves in public. So, wheel over to the Crew Blog as soon as you can.

I can only tell you that standard male dress in the Kingdom, the "thobe", felt surprisingly ... liberating. Walking through my hotel lobby, there was a strange relief, a comfort in looking exactly like everybody else. And superb testicular ventilation.

And if there was one really big surprise, it's that so many Saudis we met had a sense of humor. This is not what you'd expect after watching "60 Minutes" or "Dateline" or various hard news descriptions of life in the Kingdom. Fact is we met a lot of funny, good natured, very, very generous people over there. They actually had the capacity to laugh at themselves. They were all too aware of how they look to outsiders. They watch "Friends" and "Oprah" and "American Idol".

Many, many of them were educated abroad. They were scrupulously devout in their faith without being humorless. It was a flawlessly organized and executed shoot -- thanks to newcomer producer Amy, the magnificent Danya, and Dania and many friends -- and in fact, a rollicking good -- if alcohol free -- time. I think a lot of people are going to be surprised by the show.

As a final note, we will, on some snowy winter day, shoot at least part of a show in Buffalo. And Nelson Starr shall surely be our guide. Bangkok is on the horizon for the coming season. And we would be remiss if we did not have Eric Rivera, with his unique perspective and unusual access along for the ride. Plus, my wife wants to take a week or two in mui tai camp there. And just as the Phillipines are long overdue for a show, Augusto Elefanio deserves to have his dreams come true.

So with luck, everybody, as they say, is a winner.