Anna Rahmanan
Writer | Editor | Producer
In the third season of Somebody Feed Phil, host Phil Rosenthal kicks off a London-focused episode by running out of local department store Fortnum & Mason with a pack of cookies in hand. Giddy with excitement, he shows off his loot to the camera. “These are my favorite store-bought cookies,” he says while quite literally hopping towards the viewers. “Fortnum & Mason dark-chocolate coated chocolate pearl biscuits. You will not find a better chocolate cookie. They wrap it really well, too.” As a viewer, you can’t help but wonder: how excited can someone actually get about a box of cookies? Turns out… a whole lot. That’s it you’re Phil Rosenthal, of course.
A pleasant and heartwarming TV show, Somebody Feed Phil premiered on Netflix back in 2018 and now has four seasons under its belt. The travel documentary program is chronicled by the soothing and delightful Rosenthal, the brains behind the uber successful Everybody Loves Raymond—which he created, wrote and executive produced—and I’ll Have What Phil’s Having, a similar program that was broadcast on PBS in 2015.
In each one of the 22 episodes of Somebody Feed Phil, the host travels to a different city and takes the audience on a culinary journey to highlight the foods endemic to the area while meeting locals from all walks of life. Lest you think the program to only be worthy of gastronomically curious souls, think again: the show appeals to a variety of human tendencies that go beyond the palate—especially during a global pandemic that has virtually shut down life, and travel, as we know it.
Although food and travel have always been a winning combination, both in real life and on TV, there is something about the Netflix production that tugs harder at the heartstrings. Armchair travel at its finest, it is an uplifting series that doesn’t seek to prove it knows more the viewer does but actually explores a destination the way average folks—us!—would. In a way, Rosenthal travels like we would travel.
Take the New York episode, for example (season 2, episode 6). Likely one of the most familiar destinations at least to American watchers, the city is a treasure trove of culinary highlights. Rosenthal’s selections include Blue Hill at Stone Barns—a two Michelin star eatery that would likely make an appearance on any other food show—but also hotdogs in Coney Island, DiFara’s pizza and Peter Luger in Brooklyn. As a general statement, the host doesn’t dwell too much on the ingredients of what he’s eating—as a Food Network show host might, perhaps—but tells us just enough to have us scream “yum!” at the screen and add the treats to our personal bucket list.
Sure, the late king of food/travel documentaries, Anthony Bourdain might have, perhaps, toured a similar New York, but there’s something about Rosenthal that is, to put it simply, less uptight and more fun. The unabashed way he rejoices at every aspect of his trips—including the purchase of a box of cookies—reminds us of the pure ebullience and glee involved in traveling. It nudges our hopes to, one day, be able to vacation again with a big smile on our faces and excitement at every turn.
So pronounced is Rosenthal’s own elation that, for a few fleeting seconds during each episode, you might doubt his innocence. How can someone be so ecstatic about eating Montreal-style bagels, after all? Is he really enjoying harvesting lotus stems at the crack of dawn in Saigon or learning how to devour crawfish in New Orleans? But after each installment, it becomes clear that Rosenthal isn’t faking it. He is really that happy.
The clearest display of Rosenthal’s essence and his approach to the show shines through in episode three of season one, when he travels to Tel Aviv. On the trip, he takes us to Dr. Shakshuka, where the owner describes his come-to-Jesus moment in jail (“this is the best story I’ve ever heard! A superhero origin story,” exclaims Rosenthal in reaction to it) and a walk through a synagogue-slash-hummuseria that apparently isn’t a synagogue after all. But it is Rosenthal’s tackling of the centuries-old Arab-Israeli conflict that most clearly illustrates the genius—and necessity—of a show like his, especially during these unforeseen times.
While walking around Jaffa, the host notices a bakery where the folks behind the counter wear T-shirts that say “Jews and Arabs refuse to be enemies.” There since 1879, the bakery dishes out hot food right out of the oven, which Rosenthal obviously orders. While waiting for it to cool off, the host doesn’t take the time to chat with the owners about the conflict referred to on their shirts and he doesn’t even bother with a voice-over regarding the topic. He simply waits for his food to cool off with a smile on his face while we take in the meaning of the T-shirts. He doesn’t delve into politics but instead focuses on humans’ shared love for food.
That’s the other about the Netflix show: it is what we need today because it is about happiness, a trait that, unfortunately, a whole lot of recent TV and film productions are staying away from.
From Oscar-nominated movies the likes of Nomadland and Sound of Metal to TV shows like I May Destroy You and The Handmaid’s Tale, all the entertainment options we’ve been served lately seem to be about the absence of happiness and how certain segments of the population are dealing with a lack of smiles, laughter and unadulterated joy. Of course, showcasing the things that are bad about society and the world as a whole are just as important as celebrating the good—but it seems like along the way of trying to openly discuss the negative we’ve completely lost sight of the positive. There’s something to be said about feel-good TV, a category that Somebody Feed Phil belongs to, being as necessary as deep-dives into historically important racial occurrences, LGBTQ+-focused programs and more. Rosenthal has clearly figured that out and, hopefully, through his show, he’ll help us get there as well.