Blame Bourdain

The writer inspired a culinary nightmare with his 2001 book

Two eggs hovered in a thin layer of liquid before me on a dinner plate. Both had only been lightly brushed with the flame of a propane torch, so they couldn’t be considered fried. They looked like they went straight from the shell to the plate, received a crème brûlée treatment, and were served. A mound of diced tomatoes flanked them.

My dining experien…