The Contagious Joy of Phil Rosenthal

Recently, while going through a hard time in my family, I searched my streaming channels for something distracting to watch. As I swiped through Netflix, I glanced at all the brief descriptions that appear on the bottom of their shows’ home pages. I quickly passed over the series listed as “action” or “drama,” looking for something light-hearted to take my mind off my Mom’s health that was worrying me 24/7.

Then I spotted something — a show with a photo of a mouthwatering cheese pull and a goofy man smiling with delight. The profile description included some of my favorite words: Humorous. Relaxing. Travel. “Just what I need right now,” I thought. Click!

And it worked. For at least one hour, I was brought out of my negative thoughts and into the positive world of Somebody Feed Phil. I’m not sure why it took me this long to find the show, since my parents have been talking about it since Phil Rosenthal first moved his travels to Netflix from PBS seven seasons ago. I’m very late to the party, but it’s a party worth bingeing, even for a typically uncommitted TV viewer like me.

My family and I have been fans of Everybody Loves Raymond since it first aired, so I’ve always been familiar with Phil Rosenthal’s talent. But not until watching his travel show have I had the opportunity to appreciate him as a person. I started with the new season (number seven) and then backtracked to see Phil’s beginning. I was immediately captivated by the clean humor and positive energy of the show, things that are so rare in television today.

If you’re a regular reader here, you know that three of my favorite things in life are travel, food, and family. And Phil covers all of this, along with bits of fascinating history trivia, an added bonus for culture nerds like me. Every episode starts with a catchy theme song, followed by a beautiful story of a place that makes you laugh and learn and sometimes even cry. Phil’s culinary journeys are a dream for foodies like me… and my son, too, who instantly became a fan of the series as well. You can’t help but share in Phil’s enthusiasm as you watch him approach a plate oozing with deliciousness. His eyes widen, his smile forms, and his arms raise into a child-like dance. He savors each bite of food with pure joy! As my Mom said, “He has so much appreciation for everything he eats!” Phil is the walking embodiment of joie de vivre and we all need to catch some of it.

Somebody Feed Phil is not just a show about food. It teaches how cultures have evolved and allows Phil to get to know people in the most natural, casual way — over a meal. Through beautiful cinematography, clever production, and Phil’s effortless charm, Somebody Feed Phil manages to capture the true essence of cities across the globe and unite our often-divided world through food. “It’s hard to hate when you’re breaking bread with someone,” he says. Rather than focusing on what’s wrong with our world, Rosenthal chooses to focus on the good, even highlighting all the philanthropy of people in all corners of the globe. Whether he’s dancing with chefs in Japan, bonding with schoolchildren in Hawaii, or being kissed by strangers in Rio, Phil Rosenthal exudes the kind of positivity that makes you want to go out and spread some good too.

While a city seems to be the titular focus of every episode, it’s not really the star of the show — nor is the food Phil finds there, surprisingly enough. At the heart of every episode is what Rosenthal clearly thinks is the most important thing in life — people. Phil is a superb storyteller, and he tells the stories of the individuals, families, and communities that make the very food which breathes life into a place. The series celebrates the diversity of our world while reminding us that deep down we’re all really the same. We all eat and care about our families and gather together through food. No matter where Phil travels, he pulls people in, because food doesn’t have language barriers and a warm smile is contagious.

Although Phil travels far and wide, there’s some comfort in the common themes of every episode. He always dines with friends from his own world, but also spends time with folks from a new world. He brings them all together for a big meal in what he calls “the reunion” part of each show. He always offers hilarious, deadpan commentary in between scenes. And of course, he includes his beloved, funny parents in every episode, whether by Skype at the beginning of the series or through jokes in their honor in the seasons after they passed.

From Everybody Loves Raymond to Somebody Feed Phil, Rosenthal’s love for his family is the stuff his feel-good shows are made of. His wife and children continue to be a big part of his productions. In the New York episode of Somebody Feed Phil, the family man shows us the side-by-side Central Park benches he and his wife Monica Horan gifted each other, with inscriptions that make it clear he’s one of the good guys.

I went on a hunt for the Rosenthals’ benches when I had a meeting by the park recently. They’re at the 7th Avenue entrance of Central Park South, if you’d like to see them too.

Watching Rosenthal with his family and the new friends he meets gives you some sort of comforting hope that we’re all part of one big world-family that connects us. It’s clear that Phil believes we all have the power to make each other’s lives brighter, and that the walls we’ve built between us don’t need to be so tall. His favorite things about places he visits aren’t the meals or the scenery. “It’s always the people,” he says.

A lovingly created dish of food is a masterpiece in Rosenthal’s eyes. “This is, to me, one of the art forms,” he says. “Because it’s the way we express our feelings.” But like most of us, Phil admits that if it were up to him, he’d normally order what he knows, because it’s familiar. The opportunities his show has presented him have opened his mind, and he encourages us to trust someone else’s recommendations too. “Go somewhere with a guy who knows, and let them drive the car and just be a passenger with your mouth open,” he instructs from a café table in Rio. 

Phil’s most recent project follows this philosophy, if you will. He teamed up with his daughter Lily Rosenthal to write their first children’s book Just Try It! which was released in March. The beautiful picture book (illustrated by the talented Luke Flowers) is a fun story about an adventurous foodie father and his picky daughter. While the message was intended for kids, it’s not lost on finicky grownups either.

My son and I had the pleasure of meeting Phil and Lil during their recent book tour, and the Rosenthal energy was just as positive in person.

By that time, my Mom’s health had started to decline significantly, and just like his show, Phil provided me with some much-needed joy. I told him his series had pulled me through a tough time with my mother’s cancer diagnosis, and he looked at me with the most sincere eyes and said, “Please give her my love.” I did, along with her own signed copy of his book. She was so appreciative of his kindness and the entire experience brought out her beautiful, warm smile. Just like Phil and me, my Mom loved food and family and travel. At her hospital bedside, right next to her rosary beads, prayer books, and a homemade card from my son, she also kept Phil’s happy book. A week later, I lost my mother and my world shattered. The book signed by Phil was the last gift I gave her before she passed. His show was the last show we watched together. And it’s the thing that helped me smile a little in the darkest period of my life.

Maybe it’s my recent heartache that has made me more introspective, but I’ve learned a lot from a goofy guy on television who loves to eat. In his visit to Kyoto, Japan, Phil dined with a lovely, soft-spoken chef. She talked about the importance of savoring every moment, because moments can never be repeated — a statement so simple yet so profound that it moved Phil (and me) to tears. Meeting Phil and sharing it with my Mom are moments like that for me, because they’ll forever remind me of the bittersweet end of her life. Through my own experiences and even through Phil Rosenthal’s powerful show, I have learned that moments and connections should always be savored.

Sometimes a TV show is just a TV show. But maybe sometimes it’s not. Maybe sometimes it’s a messenger of hope, reminding us that the big, intimidating world is a lot smaller and more united than we think, connected by the universal comforts of food and warm smiles. Somebody Feed Phil will always hold memories for me. It carries a positive energy that reminds me of the good in the world, even at times when there doesn’t seem to be much. And I think that’s exactly what Phil set out to do.

Featured image: Netflix