I'm worried it will turn into a theme park
There's nothing wrong with Disney World. I like Disney World. It embraces its outrageous and commercially friendly image, and uses it to its advantage. It is, by nature, inauthentic, simply designed to transport you and your imagination to a different place. The moment you try simulate a feeling by carefully orchestrating an experience, you are entering theme park territory. Especially when it's done on panoramic scale.
I'm a little squeamish that Bourdain Market might join that kitsch-laden category. That it might become nothing more than a point on an NYC travel brochure, a nice way for wide-eyed tourists to fill a 2-hour-gap between the M&M Store and the Christmas Spectacular. How could anything that's Blade Runner-esque not be a little bit contrived?
Picture a statue of Kurt Vonnegut holding hands with Mickey Mouse outside the Magic Kingdom, instead of Uncle Walt. It's kind of like that.
I'm worried this is a step towards losing what made me love him in the first place
I read Kitchen Confidential. I watched No Reservations. He embraces and cherishes the authentic. His whole freakin' show revolves around the intrigue and value of immersing oneself in a foreign culture and experiencing it first-hand. And he made his nut as the rebellious, CBGB-frequenting, dirty-chef-come-clean-with-a-knack-for-prose without any semblance of bullshit, censorship, or outside influence.
The overwhelming sense I got from watching Bourdain traipse all over the world was that the only way to really experience the world is in the present tense. He was a sufficient surrogate and millions of viewers were able to live vicariously through his adventures, but I always got the feeling that our host was imploring the people on their couches to actually go out and do what he was doing for themselves, because there is no substitute for world travel. Not even Epcot.
If the market turns out to be a plastic and fiberglass pastiche of "local flavors" from around the world, carefully stylized, with artificial ambiance, under the guise of a mega-market, it kind of sounds like a place the whiskey-swilling cynic I grew to love would avoid at all costs.