While I abhor most of the reality TV that floods prime time schedules these days, I am relishing every delicious new episode of Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations. In Bourdain’s ongoing quest to find the “best meal” he has traveled all over the world, from Namibia to Singapore to Mexico to Tuscany to New Jersey, and he presses on in the fourth season.

Not only does No Reservations rise above typical television, it rises above your typical food-meets-travel program, a genre known for its dorkiness thanks to the successes of the Rick Steves and Rachael Rays of the world. In fact, this show can get racy, but in a different way than an episode of A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila. As a chain-smoking, hard-drinking, tattooed, edgy fifty-something New Yorker, who brings years of experience as a high-ranking chef and a cynical punk rock attitude to his food-inspired travels, Anthony Bourdain is brutally honest and unafraid to mix with the locals. Case in point: last season he sampled Hogwart anus in Namibia.

And as a writer -- he authored Kitchen Confidential (a must-have on the book shelf of any restaurant industry insider or foodie) and he blogs regularly on his own website and for Top Chef -- it is his hilariously graphic Gonzo-journalist-style commentary that makes each episode of No Reservations so tasty.

Last night’s second episode of the new season brought us to Berlin, a city Bourdain said he had long put off visiting, not because he feared it growing up during the Cold War, but more because he can’t stand Tuba music, the band Kraftwerk, sausages, leiderhosen, and any country where people have an obsession with the music of David Hasselhoff (even if that was back in the ‘80s). While standing in front of a graffiti-laced remnant of the Berlin Wall, he professed that his love for all things beer and pork ultimately tempted him to make the trip… and we were off.

After a brief history lesson on the division between East and West Berlin, Bourdain moved us into the modern era of unified Berlin by taking us to his “kinky, boutique hotel,” where the hotelier-artist makes art projects out of each of the property’s 30 rooms; each room even has its own soundtrack.

Bourdain summed up that staying here – as he sat in one of the rooms that was painted in dark colors, had low-set beds, disco lighting, and fun-house-style mirrors -- felt soothing if “you’re into nipple clamps, enemas, and ass chaps” and that kind of thing.

Next we were whisked away to the city’s largest beer garden where Bourdain sampled a perfect version of veal schnitzel (which is apparently the only kind of schnitzel real Germans eat), and then promptly asked his native companions, “What’s up with the Hasselhoff thing?” Then there was a tour of East Berlin and the Checkpoint Charlie area with a former British diplomat, who introduced Bourdain to Currywurst, which looked nasty. Curry powder has no business commingling with sausage; this might be why Indians are vegetarians.

Then we were on to Rogacki, a gourmet shop and deli that has the best wursts.

Bourdain indulged in three varieties of smoked fish, headcheese, liverwurst, blood sausage, and white asparagus drenched in butter: in the end this would be the “best and most exciting meal” our boy ever had in Germany.

Never afraid to take us to all corners of the cultures he visits, Bourdain showed us the studio of a contemporary artist who claimed that art would be Berlin’s next revolution. Then he walked us through the Turkish district of Berlin, which at over half a million people makes up one of the largest sub-cultures of the city. As usual, Bourdain over-ordered, this time on kabobs. As a tall and thin guy, you wonder how this guy keeps his figure when he orders EVERYTHING on the menu. Oh yeah, he smokes constantly and has the neurotic energy of a native New Yorker.

After a trip to a Cabaret inspired by the country’s grand Weimar period (the ‘20s), Bourdain brought us back to historically contextualizing modern-day Berlin with his next outing, which was at an upscale, classic German restaurant with that British diplomat and a East German politician who worked during the communist regime. While Bourdain did his best to get answers to good historical questions at the table, we really only learned that communist mustard was better.

Looking at the plate of pig shank, cabbage, and potatoes that the waiter had just brought over for him, Bourdain philosophized that this was the food of the people of Germany. In his words: “This is a panorama of pain and skill.”

No Reservations is a panorama of many countries, cultures, and people.

In our increasingly global world, it’s a good idea to watch this show. In our increasingly mind-numbingly silly television landscape, it’s a refreshing change to watch it. I, personally, don’t know if travel television can get more fun.