So there's the "Labor Day" show coming up (actually a clip show/behind the scenes extravaganza--mostly sweepings from the proverbial stable floor, some previously unseen stuff of varying interest). And that's it for original episodes of Season 4.

In the interim between seasons, there will be some "specials" from time to time--stand-alone projects and ongoing mini-series-within-a series on various food and travel themes.

But rest assured, we are already hip deep into production of Season 5. Which is how I'm writing this from Lombardy, where I'm taking a few days rest and family time after the Mexico shoot, girding my loins for the rigors of the upcoming Venice show. Tracey, Todd, Zach and Nari, are, I‘m told, taking a mule train over the Alps to meet me.

As you may or may not know (or care), we like to use visual and audio "cues" for each new episode of the show--a particular and distinctive sound and look, usually ripped off from a movie we admire. We looked, for instance, at a lot of early Japanese films before shooting the recent Tokyo/Kyoto show, trying to ape that wide-screen, slow panning, carefully composed frame stuff you see in some of them. For the Hong Kong show, we boned up on a grab bag of "New" Asian, from Ringo Lam, Takashi Miike and Kenji Fukasaku, to some of the kookier Korean thriller directors--also the insane "Tokyo Fist" and the "Tetsuo" films.

William Friedkin's terrific "To Live and Die in LA" was the whole and entire inspiration for the LA show's oil rigs and brown hues. For an upcoming DC show, author George Pelecanos's superb Washington based novels--and his work on the greatest dramatic series EVER on television, "The Wire" formed a kind of center of gravity. Our Chicago show was filmed in a state of full-on hero worship, as I've been long besotted by Michael Mann's Chicago-based film, "Thief". For Venice we're looking hard at Nicolas Roeg's "Don't Look Now" and Paul Schrader's creepy "Comfort Of Strangers".

Let me stress here that I'm not comparing our shows to any of these masterworks. I'm just saying we like 'em a whole helluva lot--and try to rip off ideas from their cinematography and soundtracks as best we can (in our own cheesy, low-tech way). I'm very proud and happy when commentators--especially those from within the industry-- notice that the camera work and editing on the show have really stepped up this past couple of seasons. Much hard work and a lot of truly ingenious innovation have gone into making the shows: difficult camera movements, jury-rigged platforms, mobile camera mounts, and acts of foolhardy athleticism on the part of the shooters.

I should make particular mention of the brilliant, home-made "Owl-Cam" rig used in the Saudi desert. Basically, it was TWO DV cameras, mounted on a wooden platform so that their shots overlapped, resulting in a super-wide yet cost-effective Cinemascope-like panorama. The work of the editors, too, only gets better and better. Tasked, for instance, with cutting the Tokyo/Kyoto show "as if there's gonna be NO eventual voice-over!" or "make it look like you dropped acid and went to Hong Kong!" they again and again rise to--and exceed the challenge. And the increasingly daring post-production graphics by Adam Lupsha have been adding a new dimension of weirdness to the mix: At the end of the Southwest show, he managed to "make" a 16 wheel tractor trailer jack-knife in front of my car, filling the screen. It was a truly astounding shot. Terrifying--even if you knew it was coming and knew how it was achieved. I thought it was the perfect ending to the show. But, people at the network imagined that BMW, who'd lent us the car, might be displeased to see what appeared to be their proudly displayed vehicle "crushed" into a crumple of blood, hair and brake fluid at the end of the show. Too bad. It was an amazing feat of animation.

When I brag about "the Best Food Porn Ever", it's entirely because of the people I work with, the kind of talent at work on this show--behind the lenses, and back at ZPZ Central. I'm very aware that there would be no show without them (I certainly wouldn't go about the fairly undignified business of appearing regularly on TV without them) --and I am enormously grateful.

What else is coming up? And where?

It's (finally) back to Vietnam. The Philippines.. The Azores. Thailand. Provence. Sardinia. And a Detroit/Buffalo/Baltimore hybrid show which (I hope) will pay low rent homage to Curtis Hansen, Vincent Gallo and John Waters respectively (There will NOT be a Pink Flamingos finale, however). Ethiopia (we hope) Cuba. (We hope) . Back to Beirut (eventually). And beyond.

I get to go to a lot of fantastic places on this show. But you should know that when you see a four minute scene of me eating in a three star restaurant, it represents four HOURS of work for three camera people while I enjoy myself at the table, three to five more--for whoever arrived early to shoot kitchen prep and countless more for the post-production people back in New York. A full "hour" show can take up to NINE WEEKS to edit, mix, color correct and so on.

That said, last week, we were in Puebla. Carlos, my old friend from Les Halles, told us to pull the production van over at the side of the road near his home. The follow cars full of relatives pulled in behind us. And then, there we were, no cameras, only me, the crew, Carlos, Martin (our old Mexico fixer from Cook's Tour days), Carlos's Mom and Dad and cousins and nieces, gathered around the thin wooden board constituting the counter of a tiny, neighborhood taco wagon under a naked light bulb. We stood there, drinking Tecates after a long, long day's shoot; the crew happily tearing into tongue, brain, head, eyeball and tripe tacos dressed with fiery sauce. I was proud then too.

As I said, I get to go to a lot of fantastic places--and see many beautiful things on this show. But none more beautiful to me than today, looking out at the town square, my wife spooning that last bit of foamed milk from the bottom of the cup, my little daughter feeding herself olives with two fingers.

Later, around the next corner, on the next cobblestone street--or maybe the one after, there is the promise of gelato.

We've learned some lessons. Some of them, painfully. Among them:

A mediocre food related scene is almost always better than a well-shot bungee jumping scene (or movie extra scene, zip-line trekking, alligator wrestling or trapeze scene).
If you piss off an entire country, you'll get a lot of really wacky posts on your blog--and possibly even incite renewed hostilities with Hungary.
Apparently, I work for the KGB.( I'd forgotten!)
There is a finite appetite for hunting scenes.
When you are advised by official entities that any scene depicting ( insert ethnic or indigenous group constituting 10% or more of the population) will result in a total withdrawal of any and all assistance--including permits and permissions--it's a warning sign.
Ditto when they tell you that you can't shoot any restaurants during business hours--and that you may not show the faces of the cooks. Only hands. Maybe.
Caving scenes are funny. For people who hate you.
Dante, however, is not funny.

So ... what's next? When the machine cranks up again this summer? Where will we be putting into practice all that painstakingly acquired wisdom? Well ... rest assured; just cause they stop showing new episodes doesn't mean we get a break from making them. Oh, no. Already, we've got four in the can, currently being edited--and we're about to leave for Spain for another. With more immediately to follow. And while the order in which we shoot these things is not necessarily the order in which they'll be shown, I can tell you a little about what we've got so far--and what we're planning to get. I also thought I'd provide a few helpful advance reviews--to save food nerds time when the shows actually air.

LAOS: Do I smell ... Emmy? Probably not. But the camera people on this show, (Todd and Zach) are well within reason to hope. Zach had a blissed out expression on his face the entire time in the country. This is a country MADE for cinematographers. Laos was absolutely magical. Everywhere you pointed a camera, enchanted looking mountains loomed out of the mists. Great food. Amazing people with a dramatic, hugely tragic and complicated history. A visually striking, heartfelt journey across a hauntingly beautiful and largely unfamiliar landscape. It had all the elements to be one of the best shows we've ever done.

The verdict? " .....history, schmistory...... I wanted more food information..."

TOKYO/KYOTO: Pure crack for Foodies ! Ultra-Hot, ultra-fetishistic, hardcore food porn! No foreplay--just straight to the good stuff!! Sizzling Yakitori Action! Sultry Sobalicious Goodness, Kooky Cocktails and Kaiseki Kapers -- Sandwiched Between Pounding Steel and without a doubt, the Best Sushi Ever Seen on American Television! Bouncing around Japan with Morimoto in search of Perfection.

The verdict? "...OMG!! Best. Show.. Ever...That scene at Jiro? Made me cream!"

URUGUAY: The Bourdain brothers journey to Montevideo, Punta del Este and the surrounding countryside in search of traces of their mysterious, Uruguayan great, great grandfather. Conclusions? Among other things--that Uruguay makes Argentina look like a vegan suburb of Berkeley. That they like to cook stuff over flame. LOTS of flame. That Montevideo is probably the Next Big Thing--or should be. And that the "civito" is the Greatest Sandwich in the History of Civilization.

The verdict?: "...I found the civitos at San Marco, a tiny place next to the mercado, far superior to the place Bourdain went. And the morcillas he ate are nowhere near as good as the ones at......."

COLOMBIA: It stands to reason that Cartagena is fantastic. But Medellin? Who knew? Among other adventures, The crew heads into neighborhoods where--only a few short years ago--even the police dared not go. And finds one of the most vibrant, welcoming, hospitable and food crazy destinations yet. The surprise of the entire series. All of us on the crew were absolutely shocked and smitten by Colombia. Rarely--if ever--have we been treated so well or had so much fun making television. (And no drug jokes PLEASE. Really.). I think we're among the very first travel shows to go where we went and show who and what we're going to show--and I think people will be blown away by how things have changed from their Miami Vice era perceptions of Colombia (and Medellin in particular). This episode was a perfect example of the principle that it's far, far better for the Tourism Board people to let us do whatever the hell we want (even if they're uncomfortable with some of our destinations) than trying to stage manage or paint over the reality. Colombia Tourism were cool (if occasionally concerned); helpful when needed and hands-off when asked. And the result is one long love letter to a fantastic country, exhuberantly emerging from a long nightmare.

The verdict? " Where can I find arepas like that in Queens? And does anyone have a recipe for Sancocho?"

After an haute-heavy Spain show, Egypt, San Francisco, an investigation of the Azores/New England, Portugese nexus and Papua New Guinea follow. And a couple of Specials. Currently, wading through the submissions for the Travel With Tony thing--an often terrifying task. Just started in--but so far it's like choosing between John Wayne Gacy, Linda Kasabian or Robyn Miller. So many people seem to be videoing themselves from a cellar apartment--a suspicious-looking chest freezer in the background. Posters of Taxi Driver and multiple copies of Catcher In The Rye. Empty tubes of airplane glue. A plastic tarpaulin rolled up against wood panelling ... So many candidates seem to want to take me to rural areas in the Pacific Northwest. The words "drainage culvert" and "wooded area" keep coming up. And I'm supposed to TRAVEL with one of these people? I'm demanding a full background check, polygraph...and a Minneasota Multi-Phasic Personality test--along with the usual Rorsach. Scary!

Actually, it was worse: An old photo of yours truly -- after a horrifying night of drinking in Iceland, huddled, near naked in the Blue Lagoon, pondering whether to throw up or simply sink beneath the surface and die.Is this enticing? Does this make ANYONE--even longtime convicts--feel compelled to tune in? Some Things May Indeed Be Better in HD. My puffy, drink ravaged face and 51 year old naked torso would NOT be one of them. With all the beautiful places we've been on the show, THIS is an example of the glories of hi-def ? Apparently, the price of crack must have dropped near HQ. There's no other excuse for this shameful display of ugliness. What tiny, deeply disturbed demo were they trying to appeal to here? German Scat Porn websites likely attract greater numbers. And...

What about the CHILDREN!?

I look forward to the next ad--of my head, photo-shopped onto Barney Fife's naked body torturing a puppy. Now THAT will draw them in!

"But I've never felt so FRESH," he kept wailing, plaintively from the back seat. His face pressed to the window as he stared longingly back in the direction of the hotel.
Last night, we shot "walking B-roll" in the narrow alleyways of Golden Gai, an incredible rabbit warren of tiny bars and casual "joints". After the rest of the crew fanned out across Kabuki-Cho, Zach and I took a break from the cold, randomly choosing a particularly uninviting looking doorway and then climbing what was literally a ladder to a dollhouse-sized second floor bar. Slid open a door and found what appeared to be a punk rock themed six-seat bar. Empty but open for business. Smaller than the interior of our production van, there was just room enough for the two of us, our coats and Zach's camera. Two beers later and back to work.

Later, off to Shinjuku to meet Shinji our former fixer/driver-from such shows as the Tokyo episodes we did years ago on that Other Network. He led all of us down an insanely overlit street filled with big-haired hawkers and shills (all of whom seem to have modeled their do's after mid 80's Poison, Cinderella or Motley Crue) ... into an anonymous office building, up a banged up elevator to the 5th floor, arriving at the kind of loud, packed casual izakaya I dearly love. Sashimi, grilled yellowtail collars, tuna cheeks, chunks of whale (sorry PETA), beer and more beer.

I'm concerned about Chris Martinez, our editor, who we flew out here at great expense to our masters. The idea was, quite frankly, that the poor man doesn't get out enough. He's certainly edited a lot of tape set in Asia - he's just never been here himself. It was argued, back at ZeropointZero HQ, that while his work has always been brilliant, it could only improve if Chris himself were given some time outside of the dark editing room in which, from all appearances, he has spent the greater part of his life. I looked forward to plying him with sushi and unidentifiable squiggly things, forcing great quantities of beer and sake upon him- and watching his mind expand - even, perhaps, blow apart (temporarily), as mine did, my first trip out here. But so far? It hasn't worked out that way. First off, the sonofabitch appears to be some kind of semi-vegetarian. Didn't make it to the izakaya crew meal cause he had jet lag and the squirts. During a micro-club shoot and the yakitori scene, he had to huddle in the cold outside as there was no room to put him inside. At the soba place this morning--while Morimoto and I slurped noodles, Chris sat out of range, food-less, reading a much used and suspiciously stained copy of Outlaw Editor magazine. I think the article was called "Cuts and Sluts" - illustrated with photos of a hefty looking Amazon with an orange faux hawk and a silver lame thong, stretched across a console. During lunch, while Morimoto worked his knife through a whole monkfish on my behalf, Chris ordered out for pizza. Tomorrow's three star Michelin sushi shoot at Sukiyabashi Ono holds out equally small promise for the guy. The place only has six seats. I feel compelled to feed him liquor. Maybe even violate my own deeply held principles about karaoke. I even promised to perform my own, rather notorious version of "White Wedding" if he chugs a couple a bottles of Sapparo and wraps a tie around his head. I don't know--Time is running out.

Hopefully the ryokan on Monday will bring an attitude change. My attempts, by the way, to pump the very diplomatic Morimoto for inside information on my former employers, have come to nothing. He parries my every question with the evasive skills of a Condaleeza Rice:

"Who's the most clueless judge you've had to face on Iron Chef America? Mo Rocca? Or That Guy who played 'Big Pussy' on the Sopranos?"

"Next Food Network Star: Could ANY of those tools even cut an onion?" I get nothing. A low chuckle, a shake of the head. Morimoto's way, I'm guessing, of saying, "Nice try."

Update: On the way to the Master knife forger scene, we stopped at an okonomiyaki joint for a quick crew meal. Morimoto suggested the Hiroshima style (not surprising, as he comes from there) but Martinez stuck with the home team: classic Osaka. Apparently, he's been having impure thoughts about the stuff since cutting the Osaka show a while back - and he fell on that order like a one man pack of feral dogs, snorting and breathing heavy and making all sorts of Godawful noises, scraping his food right off the griddle with the handy - but still sizzling hot - spatula and shoveling it into his greedy maw without a thought. We were all quite impressed. Morimoto, catching sight of the carnage occurring only a few feet away, moved quietly away - afraid, perhaps, of losing an extremity in the flurry of snapping jaws and grinding teeth. I believe Chris is happy now.