Un po’ stuzzicati dal Wopper a sette strati di Burger King, un po’ per fare contrasto con i tanti discorsi vegetariani che facciamo durante le puntate, questa settimana abbiamo preparato un hambaagaa giapponese assieme alle crocché di cavoletto di bruxelles (sempre sia lodata). Mentre cucinavamo si è parlato di:

• Food, inc. [nyt, youtube]
• I cibi biologici sono veramente migliori?
• Quando uno chef non può assaggiare (questa parte, per un problema tecnico, è sparita dal podcast, ce ne scusiamo)
• Pipistrelli e sesso orale

La playlist della serata:

• I am happy – Soerba
• Homesick – Kings of Convenience
• Thriller 8bit tribute mix – Saitone
• Mrs. Robinson – Pomplamoose
• The Brits are playing at my house – The Beatles vs LCD Soundsystem vs The Kinks

Per gli amici del podcast: ora abbiamo una pagina su iTunes. L’icona qui a lato vi porterà direttamente là. L’abbonamento è gratuito e ogni settimana scaricherete automaticamente la nuova puntata. Per tutti gli altri permane il metodo tradizionale.

 

Sadly, I had this post mostly written for the better part of a year. I finally sat down, listened to the audio again and finished the post. It is important to note that this reflects my understanding and take on their conversation, and I am may have unintentionally misrepresented them.

As mentioned previously, I had the privilege of attending “WIRED & LIVE present GRANT ACHATZ & NATHAN MYHRVOLD Moderated by Mark McClusky The Cutting Edge: Tales from the Culinary Frontier” way back in october. Of all the events I have attended recently, this was the only one with really good moderation. In attendance, I saw Jeffrey Steingarten, Tim Zagat, Alex and Aki from IDEAS IN FOOD, and even one of the teachers from cooking school. Best part of all of this is: you can listen to it yourself. Don’t want to listen to it? Here were my take-aways:

On The Beast That Shall Not Be Named

Mark was pretty relentless in trying to get Grant and Nathan to discuss the labeling of this style of food. Molecular Gastronomy, Modernism, Techno Emotional Cuisine… call it what you will. They managed to avoid putting a label on it, citing how different the cuisine is between the chefs that play in this sandbox. However, Nathan described the Modernism/Molecular Gastronomy as a movement instead of a style, comparing it to art and architecture. I really liked this analogy. A lot.

Some of defining characteristics of this movement:

1. breaking rules and making the diner think.
2. drawing inspiration from science.
3. novelty, originality and invention.

He went on to say:

A lot of this kind of food doesnt necessarily have to be delicious. [...] great poems aren’t always fun to read, they aren’t always happy.

Where is it ok to make someone think, to give a dish that may not be conventionally delicious but as part of the dialogue with the diner evokes thoughts or emotions versus just saying every single thing has to be finger looking good. Making profound food is not the same as making totally delicious food. [...]

A lot of the food that is done in this new style, like a poem, plays on an earlier theme, has the equivalent of a literary reference, makes a culinary joke or counterpoint.

While Grant didn’t really reply, I have to believe that his goal is to do both. I think one of the most challenging things about being a chef is that their art has to be delicious. A restaurant has to survive long enough for someone to be able to look back on it and remember its genius. Another thing that makes this period of time exciting for me is that restaurant culture (for all of its downsides), has given more and more diners the language to understand these references and emotional touchstones. As a result, chefs can produce more challenging food, and still succeed.

On Alinea, Chicago and Spain

In Grant’s intro he described his background, in which he dropped this little gem:

… manipulating and controlling a period of time in people lives, to try to evoke emotion. Doing this through food, through service, through ambiance was very exciting to me.

This quote really put my dinner at Alinea into perspective. My meal at Alinea literally challenged me from every direction. Now I think the meal was over four hours long, but I was more intellectually exhausted by the end of my meal.

They also delved into the fact that this kind of cuisine is being driven out of Chicago more than any other city. In fact, Nathan actually said:

ny is a backward hick kind of place when it comes to this type of modern food

They both gave huge credit to Charlie Trotter and the alumni of his kitchen (and others) for opening Chicagoan’s minds. Grant and Nathan both basically stated that Spain is the new France.

Leading me to tweet:

france : spain :: new york : chicago

Sous Vide

Sous-vide was a thread that ran through the conversation. There were questions about botulism, the NYC health department and whether or not sous-vide would enter the home.

Turns out the number of US botulism fatalities in a year is unbelievably small (and by small I mean 2-3), with a disproportionate number of cases coming from Alaska. That doesn’t mean we should throw caution to the wind, but the concerns are overblown.

The NYC health department has draconian requirements that are more strict than both US FDA and EU standards. The result is that it discourages restaurants from utilizing the technique. As of August 2008, 19 restaurants were approved by the NYC Department of Health and Mental Hygiene.

Nathan didn’t think it would be as common as the microwave, but Grant countered that there is “level of convenience that hasnt been explored” with sous-vide. gachatz went on to talk about prepackaged food designed for SV and that PolyScience working on a kitchen sink that doubles as an immersion circulator.

nathanm had a great response to the concerns that sous-vide will take the soul out of cooking:

What you want to be a thermostat for a living?

I can’t actually write any more. I have listened to bits and pieces of this talk a bazillion times. You owe it to yourself (and me) to listen to it once.

Grant Achatz might be the best chef in the country. He’s worked under Thomas Keller at The French Laundry, and he currently runs Alinea, where he creates some of the most innovative and interesting food in the world.

In 2007, he was forced to undergo radiation therapy for tongue cancer. Three weeks after the treatment, back at work, he realized that he’d lost his sense of taste:

My mind raced at a million miles per hour. I grabbed 5 tasting spoons, walked over as casually as possible to the stove and randomly tasted a few of the pots simmering away. Nothing. I grabbed a pinch of salt, put it directly on my tongue, and it tasted–no, felt–like slowly dissolving sand. And just like that my sense of taste was gone. It felt like one day it was there, the next it had vanished completely.

At the Atlantic Food Channel, Achatz explains how he was able to compensate by leaning on his sense of smell and trusting the word of his fellow chefs. In fact, the experience led him to create dishes he might not otherwise have considered.

When a Chef Can’t Taste His Food [The Atlantic]

Why are new products typically treated like sausage? When developing new products, most companies keep the development process entirely under wraps. Prior to the product launch, everything happens behind a curtain of secrecy until the moment when—voila!—the product is “ready” to be presented in its fully-realized form to the world. As a result, even when we look at those products that we love the most, we know nothing about how the product came to be.

I know there are lots of good reasons why companies shroud their product development in secrecy. One obvious yet still-significant concern is security.  If you allow even the slightest peek into product development, there’s a good chance that some plant in Taiwan will have a copycat on the streets in a matter of hours.  And I suppose you also surrender some control when you let people behind the curtain: if you show video of a product that hasn’t yet launched, there is a chance the product will flop and be honored with YouTube videos that remix your footage to a circus soundtrack.

But this near-categorical cover-up of the creation process forgets the fact that most adults grew up playing with Legos. We all spent a decent chunk of our childhood sitting on the floor, surrounded by a sea of plastic, assembling whatever we could imagine. And, when we were done with our creation, what did we do? We destroyed what we made and we started again. Why? Because the creating was at least as interesting (if not more so) than the creation.

I believe there is a huge opportunity for companies to treat their products more like Legos than sausage, and use the process of creating to give more value to their creations.

As he was wrapping up a recent mini-documentary on the kitchen of the world-renowned Alinea, Grant Achatz reflected on what might happen if his patrons were to see more of what happens in the kitchen…

“If they knew the labor that went into [the food served at Alinea], it would probably affect their enjoyment of it. Maybe they would feel like they had to enjoy it more…”

Although Achatz went on to say that he would prefer that patrons be surprised, he obviously realized that he was on to something. Recently, Achatz teamed up with Justin.tv to provide a live video feed into the kitchen for a night. The result wasn’t the disappointment of finding out how a card trick is done, but rather a greater appreciation for the magic of Alinea. And rather than show concern over the secrecy of his recipes and techniques, Achatz showed confidence in knowing that tomorrow night they would be on to the next big thing.

Just up the street at L20, another world-renowned fancy pants restaurant, Laurent Gras tapped into the same idea a few years ago as he and his partners worked on opening their new restaurant. In the months leading up to L20’s opening, Gras documented in detail the immense work and detail that was going into the creation of the place and the ultimate dining experience.

The following mini-dissertation on bread is excerpted from the blog: “Our Pavailler is a three deck, steam injected oven built for the purpose of baking crusty loaves of bread. Baking directly on the stone oven floor gives the dough a big push, or what it referred to as “oven spring”. During this initial rise, the intense heat from the oven floor causes the yeast to rapidly produce carbon dioxide which fills the individual cells formed by gluten. But the intense heat of the oven floor is not enough for a loaf to expand in the oven. You need steam in the oven chamber to keep the exterior of the dough from prematurely drying and forming a crust before it is fully developed…”

Sure, the description is overly-detailed (and I even excerpted it).  Sure, it’s a bit pretentious.  But come on– isn’t that part of the appeal of fine dining?  I think the description (in all of its detail and pretentiousness) is brilliant– no longer does bread just appear at your table, it is a punctuation mark on a story of craftsmanship that you’ve enjoyed all along.

I suppose that the Lego approach to product development is powerful only with those products in which you have some emotional investment.  But within that wide world, I struggle to think of a product that wouldn’t be enriched by some riff on this approach.  This goes beyond “making of” films that have been around in movies and such for years (as those are purely retrospective in nature, rather than happening as a way to build anticipation).  Rather, I think this approach could be a way to use the sometimes-scary transparency of the web to let the process of creating infuse more value into creations.  How could such an approach change the way we look at your next car?  Your next pair of running shoes?  Your next iPod?

First up: Michael Pollan had a doom-and-gloom article in last Sunday’s NYT Magazine predicting the extinction of cooking. I think Pollan is a terrific and persuasive writer, and I enjoyed this article, even if I think he went a bit too far in his predictions. There are a lot of people cooking, obviously, or there wouldn’t be so many food bloggers, but I think some of his points, especially linking cooking to health, are very salient. I especially enjoyed the photographs that accompanied the article, which were like anti-food styling.

Here are some responses to the article from Michael Ruhlman and Tigers and Strawberries, which are both worth reading as well.

For the record, I didn’t take Pollan’s article as sexist. I think we have to make a distinction between the historical role that women have played as home cooks, which is factual, and the cultural role that is often assigned to women. I think Pollan was referring to the historical role when he drew the link between women entering the workforce and the decline in home cooking, and he also went on to attribute the decline to other factors beyond that obvious one. Also, I never got the sense that he was advocating a return to the kitchen by women, but rather by anyone who wants to cook. Obviously, he does a lot of the cooking in his family. So I think cries of sexism may be overblown.

Beyond Pollan, here are several other recent food articles that are well worth your perusal:

• When a Chef Gets Famous by Grant Achatz (Atlantic)
• When the Chef Is Trying to Kill You (The Faster Times)
• Tossing Out the Diet and Embracing the Fat (NY Times)
• Adventures in Blueberry Picking (yours truly)

(Disclaimer: If you’re going to dine at Alinea before the end of Summer 09, you probably shouldn’t read this as it will ruin the fun of the experience since not knowing what you’ll be served is one of the delights)

Molecular gastronomy. The mere sound of it conjures up images of Jekyll and Frankenstein running about with mystery goo or astronauts squeezing meatloaf out of a toothpaste tube, complete with mist from a fog machine and disco lights.  But Grant Achatz’ reputation precedes him and having read some of his articles in the Atlantic, I was convinced that even if he was a mad scientist running about, he knew how to make good food.

Everything about Alinea is designed to keep you in suspense and surprise you, like a carnival fun house for gastronomes.  The anticipation builds as soon as you step through the door, not the least because of its reputation but also because of the mystery of entrance, as if you’re being inducted into some secret society. The building is nondescript. We would have missed it if not for the valet sign out front. Indeed, that was the only sign acknowledging our destination.  You walk inside into a dark hallway, save for a glow of purple emanating from a wall in the back. The automatic reaction is to walk towards that one source of light only to realize that it’s a dead end.  Just when confusion sets it, two dark doors to the side open automatically, leading us into the restaurant and into the light.

The first thing that caught my attention was the kitchen to the right of us. Quiet yet frenzied, everyone was performing their duties wordlessly, as if dancing a well rehearsed ballet. The only sound was the symphony of dishes and pots being placed about.

There was no menu, we were informed as we sat down.  At Alinea, they like everything to be unexpected and to pique your curiosity.  While we waited for our first course, other diners were being served with platings like pillows and apparatuses that looked they belonged in the science lab or the tower of London.  All this added to our mounting excitement and suspense. Just what were we in for?

The first dish looked innocent enough and was as easily identifiable in appearance as it was incredible in taste. Fresh, bright, round fish roes, with each kernel tasting distinctly of a saline ocean, coupled with creme fraiche, lemon for acidity, and buttered brioche foam to round out the oil of the roe.  I had a hard time resisting the urge to lick my plate and were I in the private confines of my own home, I would have abandoned my table manners.

Roes - traditional garnishes

Our appetites whetted, the next course was pork belly. We prepped our gullet by first downing a shot of thai distillation that had flavors of lime, fish sauce, and I think lemon grass. Normally, even I would cringe at drinking fish sauce but it was only a small component of this refresher. I mostly tasted the lime and the fish sauce just rounded out the flavors. Once that was downed, I proceeded to attack the pork belly. It was stacked onto rounds of crisp iceberg lettuce, and oozed with chunks of banana and cucumber. I dipped my fork often into the homemade sriracha sauce to bring up the heat.

Pork Belly

Oxalis with juniper, gin, sugar, and rounded out with lime was a mere spoonful, kind of like an earthy mojito. The sour and grassy flavor of the oxalis provided food for thought as I chewed on my cud contemplating the familiar flavors of the first two dishes.

Oxalis

Then the funky stuff started. A warm dish featured soft shell crab sitting atop duck confit, with a thick carrot puree of some sort and dollops of spiced prune that, we were told, meant to imitate hoisin sauce (tasted more like plum sauce). This was probably my least favorite dish. I liked the texture of the deep fried crab(who doesn’t like crab?) but the spiced prune added to the already sweet carrot and ended up being too sticky sweet for my taste.  The plating was also not to my taste as it seemed chaotic, not in a good way but rather contrived. Plus, I suspect my ambivalence towards this dish also stems from my tendency to prefer hoisin sauce as an accompaniment to meat, and rarely seafood. I did absolutely love the sesame rock on the side, made with powdered sesame oil, black sesame seeds, and crisp peas. It crumbled in my mouth and melted into sesame goodness. It would go great with some beer.

Soft Shell Crab

To contrast the hot dish, they presented the same components in the next dish but with a cooler temperature. Chunks of blue crab were tucked into a cup containing ginger ice, cinnamon foam, lychee gelatin, carrot, and duck.  Random ingredients it seemed, but this worked great together.  The blue crab chunks and ginger ice provided the texture to an otherwise soft mouthful. Perhaps it was the hot weather outside but I enjoyed the cool nonchalance of this dish.

Blue Crab

Black truffle explosion. Another spoonful presented infront of us, piquing curiousity. The filling of the ravioli was liquid and it was topped with a shaving of truffle, parmesan cheese, and braised romaine. The whole thing burst in our mouths in a delicious, flavorful bite and our tongues were coated with the oils.

Black Truffle Explosion

A classic dish is next. I’m not qualified to go into this tribute to Esscofier of Pigeonneau a la Saint Clair. Let me just say that the stock was rich, the squab cooked perfectly, and the crust was perfect. My favorite part, oddly enough, was the mushroom as it was plump and juicy.  This was one of my favorites in terms of presentation and outright deliciousness. Often during the course of the meal, I was so focused on being amazed, transfixed, or confused by the different techniques or the oddball combination of flavors and textures that it was wonderful to have something clearly identifiable.

Pigeonneau a la Saint-Clair

The plating went from conventional to positively clinical. This course was a palate cleanser. A frozen disc of mustard, passionfruit, and allspice.

Mustard

The next two courses were served together. Without the food, the serving apparatus might strike one as a computer part or torture device. For within its metal clutches was a sweet potato tempura impaled upon a cinnamon stick. Inside the sweet potato ball was a molten shot of bourbon. The end of the cinamon stick was lit on one end like incense and the scent filled the room. On another dubious device, hanging by being its proverbial fingernails was a crisp piece of bacon wrapped by apple leather. I didn’t really understand the point of the plating unless it’s meant to disconcert us. But I discarded any notion of trying to understand the madness and just enjoyed the taste, which was a much easier undertaking.

Sweet Potato

Bacon with Apple Leather

Following the metal devices was one of my (many) favorite dishes. Throughout the meal, there was minimal instruction except when it was needed, which was nice.  I don’t want to be told how to eat each and every single time when I have enough trouble trying to keep up with conventional table etiquette.  My previous experience with utensils should be enough for me to partake of any meal. This dish had a particular construction that required an instructive approach.  A hot potato was topped with a shaving of black truffle skewered through a paraffin wax bowl, and suspended over a cold soup that tasted like cream of mushroom. The objective was to tug the toothpick through the bowl and release the potato into the soup and quickly devour it in one mouthful. It was warm, creamy, rich, and buttery at the same time.

Hot Potato Cold Potato

Yuba was name of the next dish.  Yuba is derived from the film that forms over a pot of boiling soy milk and is more familiar to me as dim sum fare. Here, it was rolled into a stick and deep fried until stiff and crispy.  Entwined around the crispy soy skin was a cooked gulf shrimp and the entire thing was rolled around in a sesame and pepper mixture for flavor and eaten with a dip made from miso. There must have kind of szechuan pepper in the spice mixture because I felt my mouth tingle with numbness for a short while afterwards.

Yuba

By this time, I was convinced that the rest of the meal would be painful, only because I felt so full, I didn’t know how I would suffer another bite. Thankfully, they presented us with a cold white asparagus soup along the lines of “he must be crazy but he’s a frickin’ genius”. A puree of sweet white asparagus contrasted well with the bitterness of a green layer of pureed arugula. Added into this mix was pickled white asparagus chunks, some lightly sweet creamy cubes that tasted of creme anglaise, and a refreshing frozen white pepper foam.  The soup conjured up familiar flavors in unfamiliar combinations, so much so, that I was hard pressed to identify the taste even though the answer sat on the tip of my tongue, waiting to be extricated.  When the visual cues became overwhelming, it was best to close our eyes like Harley’s bf did with every bite (of every dish), to better concentrate on the flavor.  Miraculously this soup created a second compartment in my belly and I was ready for more.

White Asparagus soup

Foie Gras came with explicit instructions.  It was resting precariously on a fork, which in turn was perched on a palm sized bowl filled with peach juice and shiso foam. The foie itself was seasoned with fennel and shiso as well. We were to eat the foie and then drink the juice. The foie was tender and yielding, made slightly edgier by the shiso but mellowed by the peach juice. I savored the taste of it swished against the inside of my cheek. Side note: I can’t wait for Dan Barber’s sustainable foie gras to grace his tables.

Foie Gras

This was a crazy flavor combination if I could have ever imagined one. Scallop and shellfish in a marshmallowy concoction of kudzu perfumed with lilac.  Also floating in this little aquarium was tiny rounds of honeydew, slices of celery, and a gelée of horseradish. Lilac and shellfish? I never would have thought that the two would go together but it did and was a hot, crazy, delicious mess. The sweetness of the scallops were enhanced by the perfume of lilac (not overwhelming enough to scare away manly men) and it harmoniously melded the flavors of earth and sea better than any traditional surf and turf dish.

Lilac infused Kudzu with shellfish

The final savory dish was a memorable one. A cube of potato flavored (I say this because it was made from a modified food starch, the potato quotient is highly questionable) thing covered in potato chips sat along side a perfectly cooked piece of wagyu beef.  The beef was so tender it melted in my mouth. Oh man, I would love a massage just about now.  And the pretend potato had a lovely consistency somewhere between a custard and mashed potatoes. On top of that, they gave us a packet of powdered A-1 sauce made from scratch. Perfect.  As we dove into the dish, they placed liquid into a vase that had been filled with either liquid nitrogen or dry ice along with herbs like rosemary, enveloping our table with scented fog to accompany our meal.

Wagyu Beef

As a refresher before dessert, we were presented with some white powder encased in small clear pouches made of rice paper.  The connotation was clear, only because I’ve watched enough tv shows to know. I half expected them to instruct us to open it up and snort the thing and such a request wouldn’t have surprised me. However, we were adviced to ingest it orally. Lemon Soda it was called and tasted like Sprite with the textural effect of pop rocks.

Lemon Soda

My favorite dessert course came next.  A shot of watermelon juice encased in a cocoa butter shell and nestled in a puree of nasturtium, giving it a grassy flavor. The waiter said that the watermelon is first frozen before being encased in cocoa butter so when it fell into you mouth, your teeth would break the shell and the juice would explode in your mouth.  Someone at Alinea is very much into having things explode in your mouth. I’m tempted to rename the post title to Alinea – Oral fixation.

Watermelon in Nasturtium

A clinical looking dessert was presented in a clear tube filled with hibiscus jelly, vanilla creme fraiche, and bubble gum flavored tapioca balls, to be sucked down like a straw. Normally, I’m not a fan of bubble gum flavored anything but when dragged through the vanilla creme fraiche, it took on a pleasantly mild taste. We asked how they made the bubble gum flavor and it turns out that they sous-vide real bubble gum and then strain the results to achieve only the bubble gum flavor, discarding the sticky gum. Thank goodness, otherwise that stuff would have stayed in my stomach for seven years.

Bubblegum

We were also given a sugary transparency of raspberry and yogurt, in an electric red color. It tasted like a robust jolly rancher.

Transparency of Rasberry

The next course was served with impeccable bedside manners. Linen pillows filled with lavender air was the charger on top of which was placed a dish of rhubarb sorbet, cheesecake from goats milk, and onion (yes!). As we ate the dish, the lavender air dispersed from the pillows and all of our senses were engulfed in the sweet perfume. There was also a tuft of cotton candy which made me happy because it was like being a kid at the fair again. The goat’s milk cheesecake was delicious and the rhubarb sorbet was actually enhanced by the taste of onion. Oddly enough.

Rhubarb and Lavender Air

Another great dessert was a chocolate concoction with malt ice cream, blueberries (real and fake) and a not too sweet maple gel (that again, explodes in your mouth).  The dish supposedly has overtones of tobacco but I did not notice.  I guess one would really need a cigarette after all that action.

Chocolate and Blueberry

I would have been happy if the prior dish was the finale. As it turns out, the last bite was a lollipop of puréed poundcake with strawberry impaled by a stick of vanilla, to be dipped in almond powder. This was one of thoses things I just didn’t get. I didn’t feel that the vanilla or almond powder added any flavor to it.  Plus the whole thing was too thick and gooey, not that last thing I wanted resting in my mouth.

Poundcake

Before we left, they let us observe the kitchen for a few minutes while we shrank inconspicuously into a corner to avoid disrupting the culinary ballet. I remarked to the server that the kitchen was rather quiet and he mentioned that they don’t have a electronic ticker and that every order is verbally annouced so quietude is necessary.  Perhaps Thomas Keller’s influence is at play here as the TFL kitchen is equally serene in sound. As we were standing there, Chef Achatz silently walked through the kitchen and you could feel the force of his Yoda-like presence as everyone instinctively parted to make way.  I was told that the man never yells unless someone is not doing their job properly. Even though he has a slight build and a outwardly quiet manner, I would much rather face down a rabid dog Gordon Ramsay than a ninja assasin Grant Achatz.

the kitchen

Overall, dinner at Alinea was a great experience, touching on all five senses as well as hitting the intellectual aspects of dining.  Many of the flavor and texture combinations seemed like they were tossed haphazardly together but upon tasting a bite, it was clear that the act was deliberate and controlled.  The meal was part theater, part science lab, wholly unapologetic, and altogether astounding.

I better start packing, pronto!  I’m so excited!  Like, WOW!!!  I hope he catches all fish barehanded and prepares them in exotic and unusual ways, minus all of his Molecular appendages, while we lounge on the beach in total, uninterrupted (except for drinks on demand and some reggae), culinary bliss!

OK, maybe the title of this entry is a little misleading.  Let’s phrase it correctly..’I'm heading to Jamaica wth Grant Achatz’s dish –  in a conceptual way’.  There, that’s better.  This month’s Daring Cooks challenge is an extremely unique fish dish created by one of the masters of Molecular Gastronomy, Grant Achatz, the founder and owner of one of Chicago’s most unique and heralded restaurants, Alinea.  I’ve always wanted to visit Chi-Town, and when that time comes, one of the first things I’d love to do is dine at Alinea, Moto, Tru, etc..and just explore Chicago’s food scene in general.

Before I continue, I’d like to thank this month’s host, Sketchy, from Sketchy’s Kitchen who has challenged us to make Skate, traditional flavors powdered, from the cookbook Alinea by Grant Achatz.

With that said, when this challenge was first announced, I was on the fence about whether I was going to take part or not.  The reasons were simple.  For one, I don’t flip over skate, but then again I don’t think I’ve ever tasted it fresh (think ammonia) and/or prepared properly, and that was only twice in my life.  Well, we could use any fish we wanted, so that eliminates excuse #1.  Excuse #2, it seemed to be quite a bit of work and I wasn’t sure who I would be serving it to – and whomever I did serve it to, would they get it and be willing to try it?  You see, this dish is what you would call the lighter side of Molecular Gastronomy/Cuisine (whenever I say or type MO-LEC-U-LAR, I can’t help thinking of our former President, Dubya, pronouncing nuclear -  NUKE-YOU-LAR) since it doesn’t require any special equipment outside of a food dehydrator, but you could also use the oven or microwave.  Well, my sister just so happened to have a food dehydrator, so there goes that excuse.  On a more positive note, I’ve always wanted to dabble in MG, but the the sodium alginate, liquid nitrogen, among all the other ‘toys’ that a lot of it requires, are a little on the pricey side, not to mention, I truly believe it’s something you need to learn from someone who has quite a bit of experience with it (this is why signing up for guest classes with Sam Mason, Wylie Dufresne, Jose Andres et al..when they offer them once in a blue moon, is something I can’t wait to do once I’m all healed up).

                  I didn’t have one of these, but thanks to her wedding, my sister did.

What makes this dish time consuming is – every component requires it’s own preparation.  Instead of just fish with sauce, you’re dehydrating ingredients and grinding them into powders, but not before you blanch, OR simmer in simple syrup, dry completely, OR add vitamin C etc..to each and every one of them, and then, if you’re using a food dehydrator, we’re talking 12 hours right there.  The great part about it was that we could create any kind of flavored powders we wanted.  The powders apparently provide an intense burst of flavor when you dip the fish into them, so this was definitely a new way of eating fish..or any protein for that matter.  Many might ask, including myself..”Wouldn’t this dish be too dry?”.  The answer to that would be a resounding NO, since you’re poaching green beans and the fish in a Beurre Monte (an emulsion of butter and water, mostly butter, and a lot of it – as in 1 lb!), so that provides the moisture..AND the fat that’s going to make your arteries want to burst.  But hey, it’s not like most people eat like this on a regular basis, and you’re not consuming all the Beurre Monte, so one night of letting your arteries party, won’t kill ‘em.

Top row: Left to right - Toasted Coconut, Lemon-Lime, Blood Orange.  Bottom Row: Left to right - Brown Butter-Sweet Plantain with Macadamia, Scallion-Thyme with Garlic and Chives, Scotch Bonnet-Allspice..look at how bright it is!

Naturally, I didn’t stick wth the traditional powders in the title of the recipe.  I decided to go tropical, as in the Caribbean…as in Jamaica, well, mostly Jamaica.  I’ve been to Jamaica several times, and one pairing I’ve found quite popular there, and throughout the Caribbean, is fish with plantains, so I knew that was a route I’d likely take (I LOVE sweet plantains).  I decided to powder some of the ingredients you find in jerk seasoning/recipes, such as Scotch bonnet peppers, allspice, scallions, garlic, thyme, and lime.  However, I added a twist here and there, like lemon and lime combined, and toasted coconut.  I also used some of the the leftover dried blood orange powder I had in the freezer from the Daring Bakers cheesecake challenge, to give the dish a triple citrus punch, and dried sweet plantains in lieu of the dried banana chips in the brown butter powder that tops the fish.  As mentioned above, I also subbed fried sweet plantains for the bananas that lie beneath the butter saturated green beans..mmmm.  In order, here are the powders I spent almost 24 hours concocting:

• Scotch Bonnet with a touch of allspice
• Lemon-Lime
• Toasted Coconut
• Scallion-Thyme with a bit of garlic and chives
• Brown butter-Sweet Plantain with ground macadmia

When it came to the fish, I went with cod instead of skate because, well, as I mentioned above, I just haven’t had a great experience with skate yet.  We have yet to develop chemistry ;P.  The fishmonger was extremely generous with the cod, giving me 4 HUGE filets, at least 9 oz each, without charging me extra.  This resulted in some big piles of fish and beans (the smallest one is in my photos!), and since I was having 3 guests for dinner -  plus me, I decided not to cut the filets smaller, and just let everyone pig out.  On the negative side, the large filets of fish resulted in much less room on the plates, so I couldn’t pull off the powder hurricane design, instead, just swirling what I could into whatever looked decent.  So, in retrospect, instead of several clean, small plates of fish and beautifully placed and swirled powders, I ended up with 4 sloppy Hungry-Man dinners.  This is the type of plate Grant would tell me to ditch and do over.  Good thing I don’t work for him, but only in this case.

Speaking of not so great experiences, I had a hell of a time opening the damn coconut.  Now, I KNOW how to open a coconut, I’ve done it before, but for some reason, this little sucker wouldn’t budge.  I was literally bashing it with my quad cane at one point!  I even channeled Tom Hanks in Castaway and every dipsheet on Survivor, and started bashing the damn thing against my stripper pole the pointy top of the wood bannister my brother-in-law built for me to hold onto by the kitchen steps.  At one point I was actually on the floor, slamming it AGAINST the floor.  By the way, NO, I don’t have a stripper pole – I was just keeeeeding.   Could you imagine me in a knee brace trying to look sexy on a stripper pole?  I think not!  In any event, I finally slammed a hammer hard enough into the eye via a screwdriver, and alas, we had coconut water all over my shirt and shorts!  Phew!  After all that, the small amount of fresh coconut I needed for the powder almost wasn’t worth it..but I made coconut milk, and nibbled on some of the fresh coconut..the rest shredded and into the freezer for future use.

Now, a few gems of wisdom regarding the Scotch bonnet peppers. or habanero peppers for that matter.  When serving this dish, you might not want to swirl the scotch bonnet-allspice powder in with the other powders because it’s one of the hottest peppers in the world, and umm..a lot of people don’t like to cry when they eat.  Keep it on the side and let them decide.  If you decide to swirl it in, use as little as possible or ask your guest/diner prior to service how much heat they can handle.  I swirled mine in for photographic purposes, but still tried to dip sparingly..as I can handle some super, duper heat.  On another note, when you grind the dehydrated scotch bonnets..DO NOT, and I MEAN DO NOT, open that spice grinder immediately after grinding.  I made the mistake of doing so..and my god, that heat went up my nose, into my brain, and out my eyes in the form of running faucet tears.  You’ve heard of brain freeze?  Well, this is brain fry to the highest degree.  I was holding and soaking my face with ice cold water for 10 minutes, and it still burned like Paris Hilton’s nether regions when she releases a night of numerous mixed drinks and shots..well, you get the picture.

Finally, I overcooked the green beans and slightly burned the fried plantains.  I need to use my walker in the kitchen, so between hobbling back and forth between burners, then manipulating myself up my infamous kitchen stairs to answer the phone, I didn’t get back in time to save them.  Regardless, I gotta say, it tasted great!  The fish was perfection, and the scallion-thyme powder was out of this world with the fish (it was everyone’s fav except for one, who loved the lemon lime).  Even the green beans, although a little overcooked, were fantastic..but geesh, how can anything taste bad with all that butter?  In the words of the late but immortal Julia Child… “Use more BUTTER!”

Now, on to the VERY LONG traditional recipe..but don’t hesitate to be untraditional!

Skate, Traditional Flavors Powdered – with changes
•4 skate wings
•* Beurre monte
•* 300g fresh green beans
•sea salt/kosher salt
•1 banana
•454g butter – 4 sticks
•300g lemons
•5g citric acid/vitamin c tablet
•150g cilantro
•150g parsley
•100g dried banana chips
•300g spray dried cream powder (or powdered milk)
•100g cup minced red onion
•200g capers (brined, not oil)
* For green beans, slice each beans into very thin rounds (2 mm)
* Beurre Monte – 454g butter (4 sticks, 1 pound) cubed and cold, 60g water. In a small saucepan, bring the water to a boil, remove from heat and whisk in the butter 1 cube at a time. This should from an emulsion. Keep this heated, but under 195 degrees. The emulsion will not break – this is your poaching liquid.

Powders – prepare ahead of time
caper/onion
lemon powder
cilantro/parsley powder
‘brown butter’ powder

POWDERS
Once dried, all powders should be pulsed in a coffee grinder/spice mill/morter and pestle then passed through a chinois or fine mesh strainer.

Citrus powder
300g lemons
1000g simple syrup
5g citric acid/vitamin c tablet

Zest 300g of lemons (10.6 oz), remove the pith from the zest and poach in the simple syrup three times. dry with paper towels and move to a dehydrating tray. 130 for 12 hours. pulse the zest in a coffee grinder, pass through chinois, and mix with citric acid/vitamin C powder.

If you do not have a dehydrator, place in microwave for 8 to 10 minutes at medium powder. Once dried, follow the other instructions.

Cilantro/Parsley powder
150g cilantro
150g parsley

blanch the parsley in boiling saltwater for 1 second, submerge the leaves in ice water for 3 minutes. Dry on paper towels and place on dehydrator tray. 130 for 12 hours. grind and pass through chinois.

If you do not have a dehydrator, place in microwave for 30seconds, turn over leaves and microwave for another thirty seconds. They should be dry by now, pulse in coffee grinder, pass through chinois and reserve.

Onion powder
100g cup minced red onions

dehydrator – 130 for 12 hours
microwave at medium power for 20 minutes.

Pulse in grinder, pass through chinois

Caper powder
200g capers (get the ones packed in brine/vinegar)

Run the capers under cold water for two minutes to remove some of the brine.dry on paper towels and dehydrate for 12hours at 130 degrees.
Microwave instructions are unclear. Dry them as much a possible with paper towels, the microwave on medium for 1 minute. Check the moisture content and stir them. repeat for 30 second intervals until they are dry. If you use this method, pleas post the time needed to dry the capers.

Once dry, pulse and sift the powder. Mix it with the onion powder.

Brown Butter powder
100g Dried banana chips (unsweetened if possible – many are coated in honey – the freeze dried ones would be brilliant)
300g spray dried cream powder

If you cannot find the cream powder, you can substitute Bob’s red mill non fat dry milk powder, or even carnation instant milk powder. The substitutions will alter the flavor a little, but you will still get the general idea.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees, sift the cream powder into a fine layer on a silpat or on parchment. bake for 4 minutes, then remove for heat. If it bakes for too long, it will burn. Be very cautious with all powders in the oven. They all go from browned to burnt in a few seconds.

Grind the banana chips in a coffee grinder and mix with the toasted cream powder. Pass this through a chinois and reserve.

* For green beans, slice each beans into very thin rounds (2 mm)
* Beurre Monte – 454g butter (4 sticks, 1 pound) cubed and cold, 60g water. In a small saucepan, bring the water to a boil, remove from heat and whisk in the butter 1 cube at a time. This should from an emulsion. Keep this heated, but under 195 degrees. The emulsion will not break – this is your poaching liquid.

SKATE
Prepare the skate – 50G v shaped cuts are recommended
Bring 100g water, 100g beurre monte, and green bean rounds to a boil over high heat. Cook until the water has evaporated (about 3 minutes), when the pan is almost dry, remove it from heat and season with 3g salt

Bring 300g water and 300g beurre monte to simmer over medium heat, add skate wings and simmer for 2 minutes. Remove the pan from heat and flip the wing over and let rest in pan for two more minutes. Transfer to warming tray lined with parchment and season with 5 grams of fine sea salt.

PLATING
Take the tip of a small spoon and make a small mound of the citrus powder, the onion-caper powder, and the cilantro parsley-powder. Swirl these around in a hurricane type pattern. I found that it is easier, and you get finer lines if you lightly shake the plate to flatten out the mounds, then swirl the spoon through it to get the pattern.

Peel the remaining banana into very think slices (3mm) fan three slices on the plate, place green beans on top and place skate wing portion on top. On the tall edge, sprinkle the brown butter powder.

SUBSTITUTIONS
The Skate can be replaced with flounder or cod.
If you can get skate that is not ‘prepared’ IE – Skinned- get the fish monger to prepare it for you.

The powdered cream can be omitted completely, just replace it with more banana powder, or pineapple powder. Possibly non dairy creamer, but I have NO idea what would happen if you tried to brown it.

The poaching liquid is pretty much butter – it could be replaced with other poaching methods. Water, wine, bay leaf, garlic clove, pepper, etc. Try to go easy on the salt in the liquid if you use a replacement.

As always, don’t forget to check out what the other Daring Cooks came up with! Just click on the links to their blogs at the (again) temporary Daring Bakers Blogroll.

Champaign

Radio Maria
@RMRestaurant  website

Chicago

Alinea
Chef Grant Achatz
@Gachatz  website

Avec
Chef Koren Grieveson
@KorenGrieveson  website

Avenues
Chef Curtis Duffy
@CurtisDuffy  website

Blackbird
Chef Michael Sheerin
@ChefMichaelSheerin  website

Boka
Chef Giuseppe Tentori
@DaTentori  website

the Bristol
Chef Christ Pandel
@CPandel
John Ross (co-owner)
@JohnTheBristol  website

Cafe Ba-Ba-Reeba
@CafeBaBaReeba  website 

Cafe des Architectes
Chef Martial Noguier:
Executive Chef at 
Cafe des Architectes, Le Bar, and the Sofitel
@ChefMartial   website 

Carnivale
Chef Mark Mendez
@ChefMendez  website

Chaise Lounge
@ChaiseLounge  website 

Clandestino
Chef Efrain Cuevas
@chEfrain   website

David Burke’s Primehouse
Chef Rick Gresh
@RickGresh  website

Duchamp
@DuchampChicago  website

Eve
Chef Troy Graves
@EveChicago   website

Feast
Owner Debbie Sharpe
@DebbieSharpe  website 

Frontera Grill
Chef Rick Bayless
@Rick_Bayless  website

Graham Elliot
Chef Graham Elliot
@grahamelliot  website

Home Made Pizza Co
@HomeMadePizzaCo  website

Hot Dougs
@HotDougs  website

Kitsch’n
@kitschn  website

L20
@L2O  website 

Landmark Grill
@LandmarkGrill  website

Le Colonial
@lecolonialchi  website 

Lockwood
Chef Phillip Foss
@PhillipFoss  website 

MK
Owner Michael Kornick
@MichaelKornick
Executive Chef Erick Williams
@ChefErick
Chef Tony Galzin
@TonyCakes  website

Moto
Chef Homaro Cantu
@moto_restaurant  website

Naha
Chef Carrie Nahabedian
@CNaha  website 

One Sixty Blue
Chef Michael McDonald
@ChefMcDonald   website

Paramount Room
@ParamountRoom  website 

Perennial
Chef Ryan Poli
@RyanPoli  website 

the Publican
@thePublican2008
Chef Paul Kahan
@PaulKahan  website

Roof at the Wit
Chef Todd Stein
@tsteincibo  website 

Rockit Bar & Grill
Executive Chef James Gottwald
@rrpchefjames
Chef  de Cuisine Amanda Downing
@Amanda2581  
website

Small Bar
@SmallBarDst  website 

Chef Stephanie Izard
(The Drunken Goat opening soon)
@StephanieIzard  website

Taxim
Chef Davidn Schneider
@davidnschneider  (Yelp – no official site) 

Tru
Executive Chef Tim Graham
@ChefGraham
Chef Rick Tramonto
@ChefTramonto  website

Vie
Chefs Paul Virant
@jarstarvie  website

Volo
@volowinebar  website

ZED451
@ZED451  website 

Of course it would happen that I’m introducing my Friday series on the same day that the guys at Blackened Out introduced theirs! It was entirely unplanned and all too serendipitous. Just a disclaimer: my concept is a bit less PC than their Classic Combinations.

Anyway, this idea popped into my head as I drove home from work a few days ago. I was pondering the customary blogging “rules” and the fact that my uncontainable verbosity just doesn’t quite reconcile that well with the traditional blogging style that seems to be driven by abundant pictures. Gushing is allowed, but not in copious amounts that I like so much to employ. That led to a thought about how some of my favorite things to come across are BREATHTAKING, thought-provoking images of dishes. Thus, Food Porn Friday: your weekly dosage of visual stimulation, free of analysis, explication, and inhibition. May it tickle your imagination, brighten up the last day of your workweek, and hopefully inspire a meal or adventure for you this weekend!

It’s only fitting for me to kick it off with an Alinea dish, seeing as how infatuated I am with Grant Achatz’s ingenue and gastronomical experimentation. I present to you white asparagus in five ways, with a poached quail egg yolk at the end for good measure.

L-R: braised asparagus tip, chorizo, fines herbes, orange (the fruit, not the rind), black trumpet mushroom

Originally posted at Paper Palate on May 7, 2009.

And the winner is . . .

The James Beard Awards are known colloquially as the the food “Oscars.”  Simply put they are the most important awards on the American food scene.  On Monday May 4th the James Beard Foundation gathered together in the Big Apple to name the best of the best.

Among the winners in publishing was Michael Pollan whose In Defense of Food was one top pick.  Pollan is a contributing writer to the New York Times Magazine and is a food activist who is critical of conventional agriculture.

Nate Appleman of A16 in San Francisco and whose cookbook of the same name cleaned up at the IACP Awards last month took home the the JBF nod for Rising Star Chef.  Jennifer McLagan’s Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient took two awards, cookbook of the year and single subject cookbook.  2008 JBF Chef of the Year, Grant Achatz, won a book award this year for Alinea a cookbook based on the recipes from his award winning Chicago eatery.

Other JBF publishing winners:

• Cookbook Hall of Fame – Jane Grigson, body of work including “The Art of Charcuterie,” “Good Things,” and “Jane Grigson’s Vegetable Book”
• American Cooking – Martha Hall Foose, “Screen Doors and Sweet Tea: Recipes and Tales from a Southern Cook”
• Baking and Dessert – Shirley O. Corriher, “Bakewise: The Hows and Whys of Successful Baking”
• Beverage – Steven Kolpan, Brian H. Smith, Michael A. Weiss and The Culinary Institute of America, “WineWise: Your Complete Guide to Understanding, Selecting, and Enjoying Wine”
• General – Mark Bittman, “How to Cook Everything (Completely Revised Tenth Anniversary Edition)”
• Healthy Focus – Ellie Krieger, “The Food You Crave: Luscious Recipes for a Healthy Life”
• International – Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid, “Beyond the Great Wall: Recipes and Travels in the Other China”

The gallery known for contemporary realism and color, Smith Killian Fine Art is located in the heart of downtown Charleston’s French Quarter District. The gallery, which has been recently featured in AmericanStyle Magazine, Coastal Living and Southern Living, features works by Charleston artist Betty Anglin Smith and her triplets — painters, Jennifer Smith Rogers, Shannon Smith and photographer Tripp Smith. In addition to these artists, the gallery represents sculptor Darrell Davis, works in oil by renowned artists Kim English and Susan Romaine, and photographs by Tom Blagden, Jr.

At this year’s art and culinary affair, Smith-Killian collaborates once again with McCrady’s. A strong supporter of Charleston’s art scene, McCrady’s Restaurant features works in oil depicting Charleston life from Smith-Killian featured artists, including works by Betty Anglin Smith titled Lemon Light I & II; Jennifer Smith Rogers’ West of State Street and Roof Tops at Twilight; Shannon Smith’s Trio, End of the Road, and By Moonlight.

One of Charleston’s youngest and most celebrated chefs, Sean Brock stands on the forefront of the modern cuisine that uses fresh, locally grown ingredients. Nominated for the 2008 James Beard Award for “Raising Star Chef”, Brock captures a field-to-table experience that brings familiarity to the palate but is presented in an unexpected way. 

After graduation from Johnson & Wales and apprenticeships with Chefs Rick Tramanto, Gale Gand, Grant Achatz and Paco Roncero of La Terraza del Casino in Madrid, Chef Sean Brock began his professional career as Chef Tournant under Chef Robert Carter at the Mobil Four-Star / AAA Four-Diamond award-winning Peninsula Grill in Charleston, . After two years at Peninsula Grill, Chef Brock earned the position of Executive Sous Chef under Chef Walter Bundy of Lemaire Restaurant at the AAA Five-Diamond Award / Mobil Five-Star Jefferson Hotel in South CarolinaRichmond, . His success in Richmond led to his promotion within the Elite Hospitality Group in 2003 to Executive Chef at the Hermitage Hotel in Nashville, Tennessee. Chef Brock spent just under three years fine-tuning his craft in VirginiaNashville before accepting a position as Executive Chef at McCrady’s Restaurant in Charleston, South Carolina.

Shortly after his return to Charleston, Chef Brock began the development of a 2.5 acre farm on Wadmalaw Island. Rather than rely on others to fulfill the voluminous needs of the kitchen and the demands of an increasingly sophisticated food community, Chef Brock wanted to create a true field-to-table experience, not only for his guests, but for his staff. The McCrady’s culinary service and management teams work the farm together to produce 90% of the vegetables for the restaurant. The personal relationship to the food grown on the farm serves as inspiration for everyone working at McCrady’s, from the front door to the back. Slated to be biodynamic by mid-2008, heirloom seeds from plants that are at risk of extinction are harvested from family, friends and farmers throughout the Southeast and planted with care by the same people who are preparing and serving the fruits of the collective labor to the guests.

By Verena Dobnik

The Associated Press

NEW YORK — Dan Barber, a pioneer of the so-called farm-to-table restaurant movement, was named the nation’s top chef Monday by the James Beard Foundation.

Dan Barber was lauded for using his New York restaurants — Blue Hill New York and Blue Hill at Stone Barns in Pocantico Hills — to highlight the difference seasonal and sustainable agriculture can make on the plate.

Barber sees his cooking — which he calls American seasonal — as an effort to raise awareness about everyday food choices. At Stone Barns, which is set on a working farm, the menu is a simple list of fresh ingredients.

Barber, who was named one of the nation’s best new chefs in 2002 by Food & Wine magazine, previously was recognized by the Beard Foundation as the top New York chef in 2006. He also was a finalist for the top chef last year.

The James Beard awards are the Oscars of the food world, and honor those who follow in the footsteps of Beard, considered the dean of American cooking when he died in 1985.

Barber’s award comes at a time when much is being made of the importance of reconnecting Americans with food at its source. For example, first lady Michelle Obama recently planted a vegetable garden at the White House, a move long sought by proponents of sustainable agriculture.

Michael Pollan, a vocal critic of conventional agriculture, got a similar nod from the foundation Monday. His “In Defense of Food,” an examination of the American diet and food system, won a Beard book award.

Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s New York restaurant Jean George was honored as the nation’s top restaurant. The restaurant was a finalist in the category last year.

David Chang, who has received numerous accolades for his Momofuku Noodle Bar and Momofuku Ssam Bar restaurants in New York, earned “Best New Restaurant” for his Ko, which has been celebrated for its tasting menu-only offerings. The foundation honored Chang as best New York chef last year.

The foundation’s award for rising star went to San Francisco chef Nate Appleman, whose restaurant A16 features the foods of Italy’s Campania region.

In the cookbook categories, Jennifer McLagan’s “Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient,” won two awards — cookbook of the year and single subject cookbook.

Last year’s top chef, Grant Achatz, won a book award this year for “Alinea,” a cookbook based on his Chicago restaurant of the same name. The book won the professional cooking category.

The organization’s Lifetime Achievement award went to Ella Brennan, whose family has been a virtual dynasty in the New Orleans restaurant scene for decades.

Winners

The winners of the 2009 James Beard Foundation Awards include:

———

RESTAURANTS AND CHEFS (NATIONAL)

— Outstanding Restaurateur: Drew Nieporent, Myriad Restaurant Group, New York

— Outstanding Chef: Dan Barber, Blue Hill, New York

— Outstanding Restaurant: Jean Georges, Jean-Georges Vongerichten and Phil Suarez, New York

— Outstanding New Restaurant: Momofuku Ko, David Chang and Peter Serpico, New York

— Rising Star Chef: Nate Appleman, A16, San Francisco

— Outstanding Pastry Chef: Gina DePalma, Babbo, New York

— Outstanding Wine Service: Le Bernardin, Wine Director: Aldo Sohm, New York

— Outstanding Wine and Spirits Professional: Dale DeGroff, Dale DeGroff Co., New York

— Outstanding Service: Daniel, Daniel Boulud, New York

———

CHEFS (REGIONAL)

— Best Chef: Great Lakes

Michael Symon, Lola, Cleveland

— Best Chef: Mid-Atlantic

Jose Garces, Amada, Philadelphia

— Best Chef: Midwest

Tim McKee, La Belle Vie, Minneapolis

— Best Chef: New York

Gabriel Kreuther, The Modern, New York

— Best Chef: Northeast

Rob Evans, Hugo’s, Portland, Maine

— Best Chef: Northwest

Maria Hines, Tilth, Seattle

— Best Chef: Southwest

Paul Bartolotta, Bartolotta Ristorante di Mare at Wynn Las Vegas, Las Vegas

— Best Chef: South

John Currence, City Grocery, Oxford, Miss.

— Best Chef: Southeast

Mike Lata, Fig, Charleston, S.C.

— Best Chef: Pacific

Douglas Keane, Cyrus, Healdsburg, Calif.

———

BOOKS

— Cookbook of the Year

Jennifer McLagan, “Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient, with Recipes”

— Cookbook Hall of Fame

Jane Grigson, body of work including “The Art of Charcuterie,” “Good Things,” and “Jane Grigson’s Vegetable Book”

— American Cooking

Martha Hall Foose, “Screen Doors and Sweet Tea: Recipes and Tales from a Southern Cook”

— Baking and Dessert

Shirley O. Corriher, “Bakewise: The Hows and Whys of Successful Baking”

— Beverage

Steven Kolpan, Brian H. Smith, Michael A. Weiss and The Culinary Institute of America, “WineWise: Your Complete Guide to Understanding, Selecting, and Enjoying Wine”

— Cooking from a Professional Point of View

Grant Achatz, “Alinea”

— General

Mark Bittman, “How to Cook Everything (Completely Revised Tenth Anniversary Edition)”

— Healthy Focus

Ellie Krieger, “The Food You Crave: Luscious Recipes for a Healthy Life”

— International

Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid, “Beyond the Great Wall: Recipes and Travels in the Other China”

— Photography

Photographer: Dominic Davies, “The Big Fat Duck Cookbook”

— Reference

Karen Page and Andrew Dornenburg, “The Flavor Bible: The Essential Guide to Culinary Creativity, Based on the Wisdom of America’s Most Imaginative Chefs”

— Single Subject

Jennifer McLagan, “Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient, with Recipes”

— Writing and Literature

Michael Pollan, “In Defense of Food”

———

OTHER:

— Humanitarian of the year: Feeding America

— Lifetime achievement: Ella Brennan

San Pellegrino has named it’s World’s 50 Best Restaurants for 2009.  This prestigious award is voted on by more than 800 industry experts (including chefs, critics and other experts).

The team at El Bulli has taken top prize for the fourth year in a row.  Heston Blumenthal`s Fat Duck (Bacon and Egg Ice Cream) retains it`s second place hold and we`re thrilled to learn that Alinea has secured a spot in the top 10 as we ate there last July and are still blown away by what we experienced that evening.

Competition aside, perhaps there is something as interesting happening in the next 10 days – many of the Top 50 are auctioning reservations to their restaurants for charity.  The auctions are in British Pounds and could show the public vote of confidence at many of these fine places.  The three restaurants messaged above have not placed themselves in the limelight yet…  I would love to see what happens to a reservation for El Bulli (where they seat less than 10,000 per year with more than 7,000,000 requests for reservations) hits an auction for charity.

The final results will be updated here for posterity – in the mean time, check the link and let us see what happens!  Bonne chance!

The trickiest part about eating at Alinea is finding your table at Alinea.  I had saved the restaurant’s street address and telephone number to my phone; nevertheless, we would have walked right past it had Keith not spotted the matte gray building at 1723.  (Silly me, I had been in search of some sort of signage or similar.  Clearly my mind was in the wrong place.)  Still, just because we had located Alinea didn’t mean we could just enter the restaurant, oh no.  We opened the charcoal-colored doors, expecting to step into the foyer; instead, we found ourselves in a long white lacquered hallway glowing with purple light.  Only when we walked in a bit did a hidden panel in one of the walls slide open, revealing the foyer I had been looking for.

After our coats were taken, Keith and I were shown to our table in the front dining room.  To say it was intimate would be an incredible understatement; there are three dining rooms in the restaurant, and each holds only five tables.  As we took our seats, I noticed something else.

“There’s no music,” I whispered across the table.

Without music, it was excruciatingly difficult not to eavesdrop on our neighbors…  which of course implies they could just as easily eavesdropped on us.  It also meant that we could hear the restaurant’s waitstaff explain each of the meal’s various courses before it was our turn, and because I chose to sit with my back to the room, Keith actually saw each course.  See, Alinea isn’t like other restaurants in more than one regard.  Sure, its cuisine is on the more nontraditional side, but unlike other establishments that offer à la carte in addition to a tasting menu, Alinea’s diners only have the tasting option.  Actually, that’s a bit of a lie— it’s more accurate to say that Alinea diners have two tasting menu options: the twelve-course for $145.00, and the “grand tour” for $225.00.  Keith and I went with the grand tour.  We don’t fool around.

You know who else doesn’t fool around?  Alinea. At Keith’s urging, I called ahead to ask about the restaurant’s picture-taking policy.

“We ask that photographers restrain from using a flash, so as not to disturb the other diners,” said the very polite woman who answered the phone, after thanking me for asking what she called a “considerate question.”

I’m mostly a rule-follower, so I left the flash off.  I’m only going to include a few photos; not all of them came out as well as I’d hoped.  Oh well.  I’m also going to break it down by course, how it was presented to us, with the best pictures of the bunch.

• • •

HOT POTATO | cold potato, black truffle, butter
Introduced to us as our amuse, this was a cold potato soup; suspended over it was a sphere of hot potato and a shaving of black truffle.  What was interesting, flavorwise, was the cold soup and hot globe — I wrongly assumed the soup would be hot and the ball cold, and that twist was a fun surprise.

In case you were wondering, and I know you were, the soup was served in a shallow palm-sized bowl made of speckled wax.  The hot potato and other ingredients had been impaled with a pin which had been poked through the wax; together they were suspended over the broth.

YUBA | shrimp, miso, togarashi
Next came the only dish of the night that was composed of an “edible utensil.”  In this case it was a rolled up piece of yuba, or beancurd, around which the chefs had somehow wound a prawn.  The yuba and shrimp were arranged like a quill in its inkpot, but instead of ink we had a mayonnaise dip spiced with togarashi, a Japanese chili pepper mix.  Now, even though I’m a self-professed heat baby, I can honestly say that I enjoyed this immensely.  It helped that it was all flavored with sweet orange, but still — good stuff, this.

CAULIFLOWER | five coatings, three gels, cider
“A lot of people don’t like cauliflower,” one of our many servers said as he laid our bowls in front of us, explaining that the next dish had been devised as a way to make the vegetable more user-friendly.  I happen to adore cauliflower, but I think that just let me appreciate our third course even more, as I can’t even imagine anyone feeling otherwise. This was comprised of five cubes of cauliflower purée, each of which had been encrusted with flavors like peanut and ginger; three miniature custard cubes; and a thin sheaf of dried cauliflower.  An apple broth was poured into our bowls tableside.  This was probably the most elegant bowl of comfort food I have ever consumed.  People who don’t like cauliflower don’t know what they’re missing.

PEAR | olive oil, black pepper, eucalyptus
This was the first to incorporate into the meal what would eventually become a theme of sorts — air.  I know what you’re thinking (“Huh?”) so let me try to explain: Chef Grant Achatz is interested in dining with all senses, and so we were sometimes given dishes that required us to inhale as we ate, and to be aware of aromas. Our fourth course was a perfect example of this.  Placed before us were covered bowls; when the lids were removed, we breathed in the strong scent of eucalyptus wafting off of the leaves garnishing our china.  Then we slid the globe of pear suspended in eucalyptus gelatin off of the spoon and onto our tongues.  I happen to love pears, so I really appreciated them in this form, which included a salty bite at the end.  Keith, on the other hand, is a member of the Anti-Pear Party, so he didn’t fare as well as me… though some of that might be because he mistakenly ate one of the eucalyptus leaves.  When I asked him what he was doing, Keith looked at me in abject shock… especially when he learned that the plant is poisonous to humans.

“It tasted like a cough drop,” he said, reaching for his wine glass.

Along with being our first aerated dish, this course also happened to be the first of three recipes that  Carol Blymire over at Alinea at Home has tackled, well, at home, with the help of the Alinea Cookbook and Mr. Achatz himself (he sent her a care package of compounds and hydrocolloids). You can read about Carol’s case of mistaken eucalyptus identity here, as well as see a photo of her end result.

WILD STRIPED BASS | saffron, shellfish, parsnip
What’s interesting about this — and I can’t tell how clearly you can see it in this picture here — is that while there’s obviously a great deal happening on this plate, most of it was hidden by the yellow sheet.  That yellow sheet, by the way, was made of chamomile concealed pureéd parsnips and a variety of shellfish.  I assumed the chamomile would taste apple-y and delicate like the tea or the herb itself but what I didn’t foresee the gentle gingeresque flavor underneath, which provided a nice zingy counterbalance to its sweetness.

YOLK | soy, wasabi, yuzu
I really like the presentation of this dish.  I’ve got an affinity for things that are simple as well as things that are small, and this could have been dwarfed by a postage stamp… if postage stamps were cubed.  I also appreciate that while this little box of a course was so very tiny, it was still given as much consideration as its larger counterparts and was literally elevated on a miniature stand. And don’t be fooled by its bittiness — there was a wallop of flavor packed in this unassuming little package, which makes sense considering it’s an egg yolk suspended in a soy gelée that had been imbued with wasabi.  It was all topped with a teensy basil leaf and shaving of yuzu.  It was a ton of fun, but I’ve got to say that for some reason, it made me think — in the best possible way — of Vienna Sausages (which my parents’ dog loves, something I’m sure you wanted to know).

CHICKEN | sesame, morel, Indian flavors
If when you look at this photograph you think of meat on a kebab stick, then you and Alinea are on the same page.  Inspired by Indian skewers, this dish featured bite-sized nibbles of chicken bits, each playing host to a series of different seasonings.  Keith thought one morsel tasted of chai, incredibly enough.

That cloud at the end, by the way, is a turmeric and saffron foam.  Of course.

BACON | butterscotch, apple, thyme
Here’s another course that Carol cooked at home.  You can see it in the picture below; it’s what looks like is hanging from an extremely scaled down Cirque du Soleil swing.  The bacon was indescribably sweet, but in the most enjoyable way.  There was nothing cloying here — just sweet, salty, candied bacon.  Fascinatingly, other diners not partaking in the grand tour received this and the next two courses as desserts, something that never would have occurred to me.

SWEET POTATO | bourbon, brown sugar, smoldering cinnamon
This marked our second air-related course.  It was a foot-long cinnamon stick; one end had been set ablaze, releasing a sweet-scented charred aroma, while the other had somehow scooped up deep-fried liquefied sweet potato.  Even I, as someone who does not stand in the corner of the sweet potato, could have happily eaten more of these drumsticks, which reminded me of boardwalk fried dough.  As Keith said to me from across the table, it tasted “like a carnival.”

MUSTARD | passion fruit, allspice, soy
The teensy butter-colored column in the corner of this photo is actually a layered disc of sweet and zesty sorbet.  I don’t know if you can make it out in the picture or not, but it started to melt in the short amount of time it took me to bring my camera out from under my napkin.  Our server had to admonish me to eat up before it turned into a multi-hued puddle.

FOIE GRAS | turnip, shiso, sudachi
Immediately before a member from Alinea’s battalion of servers approached with our portions of this next dish cupped in his two hands, another attendant placed eyeglass lenses on the table in front of Keith and me.  Seriously, it was like we were at Pearle Vision, picking out new glasses.  We were then given bowls that were the texture, shape and size of an overlarge egg — which meant we had to hold the containers in our hands while eating.  Only when we were finished would we be able to put them down on the lenses, so as to not scratch the table’s glossy surface.  Balanced on the bowl’s lip was a fork, the tines of which fit precisely into little slots notched into the bowl, and on that fork was a pristine wedge of foie.  After depositing it onto my tongue, I then tilted the bowl’s contents — a turnip soup laced with citrus — into my mouth.

LOBSTER | popcorn, butter, curry
“This next course,” a server said to us, “is about butter, and the things that complement it.”

But isn’t that everything? I hadn’t realized I had said this aloud until she laughed, even though I wasn’t being intentionally flippant.  With what exactly does butter not pair well? Still, my pondering wasn’t going to distract me from my butter-poached lobster, toast, or mango, let alone the buttered-popcorn sauce that glided over it all.  And yes, you read that correctly.  Buttered-popcorn sauce.  It was stunning, in every possible definition of the word.

PORK BELLY | iceberg, cucumber, Thai distillation
Before he allowed us to eat our next course, one of our servers handed us each a spoonful of gelée.

“Taste this first,” he said, “and tell me what you think it is.”

I absolutely hate these sorts of games, when I’m playing them.  The intense amount of pressure to get it right stresses me out; still, I tasted and guessed, “Cucumber?” — only to be told it was instead the “essence of Thai flavors.”  Truly, does anyone get that one right?

When we were finally able to turn our attention to our dishes, we found a belly of pork laced with lemongrass, ginger and peanut — all very classic Thai ingredients.  What was most intriguing was a bright dot  speckling the edge of the plate — the color of hot pepper, it had none of its numbing heat.  In fact, I overheard a server telling another diner that a method had been devised to capture the pepper’s essence without any of the burn, leaving behind a complex, savory drop.

BLACK TRUFFLE | explosion, romaine, parmesan
Like the yuzu/wasabi egg yolk before it, this was more of a “taste” than a dish — though I’ve got to say the taste was anything but small.  I loved this one, and not only for its flavor.  I loved the drama of it, particularly when a server described it to us: “Here we have black truffle explosion.”  I mean, I’m basically the kind of girl who even though she knows the entire Shu Uemura product line by heart and enjoys cute animals, also likes zombie literature and action flicks.  Of course I’m going to be into something called “black truffle explosion.”  The fact that it was superb didn’t hurt either.  Visually it looked like a single tortellini underneath a shaving of black truffle, except inside was a liquefied distillation of the fungi that, well, exploded into your mouth the moment you took a bite.

I should probably mention that the tortellini is best put in your mouth whole.  Otherwise you end up with a black truffle explosion… down your front.

WAGYU BEEF | powdered A1, potato, chips
I was a little hesitant when I heard this course included A1, as its something I’ve never really liked.  Of course, I should have known better.  Apparently the chef learned what the sauce’s ingredients were, turned each one into a powder and slid a sampling of it into little cellophane packets.  We were instructed to spill its contents into the sprinkling of salt and pepper on our plates before dragging pieces of Wagyu through it all.  Suffice it to say I’m now an A1 convert — but only if the A1 comes from the Alinea kitchen.

Another thing about this one: it was our third course to include air.  At the beginning of our meal, a wobbly sort of vase was placed on our table; a server explained that the Alinea philosophy was that nothing useless would rest on the tabletop.

“Just consider this object,” she said, giving it a spin.  “Play with it, think about it… it will come into play later on.”

As time passed, Keith and I both noticed frost forming on the bottle of the vase (here’s a one that’s similar, to give a better sense of it).  Later, when it was time for this course, the same server poured something into the vase… which rapidly began to release a fog that spilled over our table and smelled vaguely of chive.

GRAPE SODA | one bite
The first of our dessert courses started with more powder.  This time it was “served” in an edible packet that was maybe a one-inch square, and tasted intensely of grape soda, right down to the fizz.  In all truthfulness, I’ve never liked grape soda (or grape jelly, or grape juice, or grape anything that wasn’t just a plain old grape) but this was really interesting and fun.

YOGURT | pomegranate, cassia
We were warned that the globe floating in this shot glass was bigger than it appeared, and so we should take the entire bubble in one bite.  Before I say anything else, allow me this: I felt like a blowfish with this in my mouth.

Conceptually, this yogurt sphere is very similar to the liquid olive made by Fabio in the fifth season of Top Chef.  There was a thin membrane around the yogurt, allowing the dollop to retain its shape in the shot glass, where it lay in a shallow pool of pomegranate.  The yogurt was released only when I applied pressure with my tongue.

BUBBLE GUM | long pepper, hibiscus, crème fraîche
This just might have been Keith’s favorite of all of the courses we had that night.  We were given glass straws and told to suck on them… without being informed as to what was inside.  I’m not a squeamish eater, so it doesn’t bother me, not knowing exactly what it is I’m about to consume, but in this instance I was a bit peeved — especially since we were clued in after we were finished.  When I learned what was in the straw, I wanted seconds; I felt as though I missed the chance to really think about precisely what I was chewing…  which were tapioca pearls cooked in Bubble-Yum stock.  See what I mean?  How miraculous is that?!  And how irritating to be told afterwards.  I understood (and understand) the desire to add mystery, but yet I feel it would be possible to tell diners halfway into the straw so that they might contemplate the completely wonderful lunacy that is Bubble-Yum stock.

TRANSPARENCY | of raspberry, yogurt
Again, I’m not sure how clear it is in the picture; above the bubble gum straw is what looks like a silver disc holding a magenta flake.  That flake was a thin, crisp and crystalline sheet that tasted of a perfectly tart raspberry.  Embarrassingly, our server accidentally knocked mine over, and while I tried to tell her it was okay, she insisted on bringing me a new one.  For the record, when a slender raspberry pane hits a hard surface like a tabletop, it shatters.

RHUBARB | goat milk, onion, lavender air
This marked our final airy dish.

Oversize square pillows were laid before us; we didn’t even have a chance to wonder what they might be doing there when our servers set our plates directly on top of them.  The dishes’ weight caused them to slowly sink into the pillows, which had been inflated with lavender-scented air.  It wasn’t just the compression of the plates that released almost-invisible wisps of mist into the space between us; it was also the force of our forks, as we scooped up a cloud of cotton candy and cheesecake.

CHOCOLATE | prune, olive, pine
I don’t want to admit this, I really don’t.  Here I go anyway: I did not like this dish.  I feel badly about it, but when you consider that I only have issues with one out of more than twenty, that’s a very respectable ratio.  (The grape soda doesn’t count; I said it was fun and interesting.)  Here, the team in the kitchen prepared a gauzy sheet of chocolate that was quite similar to the chamomile sheet: thin, creamy and hiding something.  The “something” here was prune, which I found too sweet.  It was all meant to be mixed with a liquid white chocolate before being eaten, and while it did taste less cloying with the addition of the white chocolate, I still found this to be a bit on the disappointing side.  I still finished it though.

DRY CARAMEL | salt
Our final course also happens to be the last of those that Carol replicated at home (at least to this date, anyway).  It’s funny — when I first read Carol’s post in November, I remember emailing the link to Keith and my friend Joann, and writing how simple it sounded.  “We can do this,” I typed, adding several exclamation points.  You know what, though?  I’m glad we never did, since it would have taken away the special-ness of having it for the first time in Alinea’s dining room.  Imagine: would it have been passé, “sipping” powdered caramel from a small-scale version of a glass, and feeling it turn to liquid from the heat of our own mouths?  How terrible that would have been.

• • •

Then, our meal was over.  We lingered over dessert wine and coffee, we chatted, a taxi was called.  It was late, and we had been eating for more than three hours.  What was left to do aside from pay the bill, shrug into our coats and step out into the cold?

Dining at Alinea isn’t mind-altering, nor is it life-changing.  Neither is it cheap; once wine was added onto our check and when we calculated gratuity…  Well, let’s just say it cost more than our airfare.  What Alinea is, on the other hand, is an exercise in highly refined, exceptionally stylized play.  There’s a sense of humor here.  Don’t misunderstand — there’s an intense level of seriousness too, but it’s clear that everyone is having fun.

A few more things to consider:

• At the end of dinner, patrons are given print-outs of the evening’s menu like the one at the top of this post.  Each course is listed, along with a concise-yet-cryptic description and a dot.  The dots’ sizes may seem random, but they’re not.  The smaller the dot, the smaller the course.  The larger the dot, the more substantial.  In our meal, the Wagyu was the largest portion, and the grape soda was the smallest.
• Alinea offers a wine pairing to both the tasting menu and the tour; the tour’s total quantity of wine is equivalent to three glass-worths.  If you don’t want to go all out with the pairing but still would like a bit of wine, the restaurant’s beverages are priced by the ounce, and the sommelier can suggest as many — or as few — varietals as you request.  What he might not do, even with a significant amount of prompting, is tell you the cost of those beverages.  Which is how Keith ended up drinking a dessert wine valued at $20.00 an ounce.  It was delicious though.
• Obviously, dining at Alinea is a singular experience, but something else that the restaurant does to set itself apart is provide a bread service — meaning all of the larger savory courses came with an accompanying bread that had been baked specifically to pair with that dish.  For example, we had a fenugreek-thyme roll alongside the cauliflower-apple soup, and a pink peppercorn-and-picholine brioche with the chamomile and shellfish.  (One bread in particular had been flavored with coffee seed and saffron, and a single bite of it utterly transported me back to when I was a child, to a time when we frequently visited my grandmother in the Philippines.  This piece of bread tasted exactly like pandesal, Filipino bread, and I wanted to ask for a shipment to take home.)  We also had two different butters: goat’s milk, and cow’s milk sprinkled with black lava salt.
• Regardless of whether which menu you would like to try, when you call to make a reservation you will be asked the standard sorts of questions you normally would expect when booking a “tasting” meal: food allergies, dietary restrictions, etc.  Keith and I said no to each inquiry, but the next day, over another typical Chicago meal, we wondered, What would a vegetarian eat at Alinea?  Clearly the pork belly would be out, as would the Wagyu, the foie, the bacon, the chamomile, the lobster, the chicken, perhaps even the yolk.  Curious, I phoned the restaurant and asked.  “We welcome vegetarians at Alinea,” responded the friendly voice on the other end of the line.
• Alinea is open for dinner service only, five days a week: Wednesday through Sunday.  Even in these uncertain times, the restaurant was booked solid for more than one month out.

Alinea
1723 North Halsted Street
Chicago, Illinois 60614
312.867.0110
alinea-restaurant.com

Update:  Since I wrote this post, Carol Blymire has also prepared “SWEET POTATO | bourbon, brown sugar, smoldering cinnamon”at home, which you can read about here.

Amazon.com Review
The dishes at Grant Achatz’s award-winning Chicago restaurant Alinea are entirely new, yet what diners taste often resurrects their most cherished food memories. Achatz has said that flavor is memory, and of all the ways in which Alinea appeals to the senses, it’s flavor that he has harnessed and reinvented in a kitchen that never rests on its laurels. (Although, Achatz has employed everything from smoking oak leaves to cinnamon torches to impart flavor, so who’s to say that laurel branches are out of the question?) For a menu as ambitious as Alinea’s, its cookbook incarnation is as clear a window into a chef’s creative process as you could hope for, buttressed by stunning photography and thoughtful essays from Achatz and food literati Michael Ruhlman and Jeffrey Steingarten, among others. This doesn’t mean necessarily that you’ll cook from Alinea often, or perhaps ever: the 600 recipes are composed precisely to show that any motivated cook can recreate Alinea’s dishes at home, but to do so may be missing the point. What makes Alinea remarkable–and unlike any other cookbook on the shelf–is its passionate insistence that there isn’t just one recipe for being a cook. –Anne Bartholomew

A Conversation with Grant Achatz

Amazon.com: Can you describe what sets Alinea apart from other restaurant cookbooks?

Grant Achatz: We took the approach that we will present exactly what we do in the restaurant without concessions. That means that while we scaled the recipes to 8 servings, we did not convert to teaspoons or cups. This assures us that the recipes are tight and sound because we have made each of them a thousand or more times. Equally important is the fact that every single finished dish is pictured in the book. I always find it frustrating to read a great recipe and then not see the finished product. I understand that usually cost factors into showing only a portion of the recipes in picture form, but we decided that we had to take pictures of everything and we did.

I also think because the creative team involved in making the book is the same that has made Alinea what it is, the “feel” of the book exemplifies that of the restaurant. This is truly important when taking on a project of this scope, the hope is that the reader felt an Alinea experience without dining here. We wanted the book to capture the essence, the spirit of the restaurant, and I think we accomplished that. Many cookbooks set out to simply highlight recipes, we wanted more.

Amazon.com: When you started developing the book, did you have other cookbook models in mind? How did you want yours to be different?

Achatz: We wanted the book to mirror the restaurant and its philosophy in a consistent manner. We looked at various other books to set different bars–one for the aesthetic, one for the quality of the printing, others for their clarity in recipes–then we decided what we didn’t like in other books and went about finding solutions. For example, giant ingredient lists at the top of a page are often frustrating when you begin to go through the recipe. So we eliminated the overall ingredient lists and placed the ingredients right next to the instructions on how to make that sub-recipe. We think that makes a ton of sense and simplifies making the recipes a great deal. We were encouraged by pretty much everyone to explain each and every dish in a header–something most books do–and realized that they all start sounding the same. At one point we started reading headers from ten different books and they were interchangeable. So we got rid of those and put the over-arching explanations and technique descriptions in the front.

Amazon.com: You designed a website to complement the cookbook. How do you hope cooks and chefs will use the site?

Achatz: Ideally a community forms where home cooks, professional chefs, and our staff can interact with each other as a community interested in pushing the culinary arts forward.  By community, we mean an open exchange of ideas and encouragement. Now that we are done with the book and it is hitting stores and homes we are going to turn our attention back to the front of the Mosaic as well and start adding more content–videos, recipes, essays….

Amazon.com: Speaking of websites, how do you think “Alinea at Home” blogger Carol Blymire will fare? (She did make it through The French Laundry Cookbook…)

Achatz: We already have a section on the Mosaic where early buyers who gained access to preview recipes made dishes and posted their results–and they look fantastic! I think she will do quite well but will be forced to scale back in a few areas unless she makes this her full time job. And that is fine–we encourage ambitious amateurs to tackle the recipes by picking out key elements and making the dish their own.

Amazon.com: Since Alinea opened its doors three years ago, both you and your restaurant have earned the prestigious James Beard Award. Could you have envisioned this enormous success when you first started out?

Achatz: Our goal was to build the best restaurant in the country…that was our stated goal. Did I think we would get there? Is there such a thing? We push to refine and get better. We are certainly not the best restaurant to go to if you want a pizza. But within the high-end haute culinary world I think we compare well. I don’t believe there is such a thing as “the best.” But we strive for that ideal.

Amazon.com: Molecular gastronomy is something of a vogue classification these days–do you think the food at Alinea fits this description, or is the high-tech aspect of your kitchen just one piece of the puzzle?

Achatz: It is a small piece of the puzzle.  Questioning convention is the bigger piece.  We do that with almost every dish…and with the book.  Technology is used where necessary to achieve a specific goal for a specific dish. As we say in the front of the book, we create first and worry about technology second.  At the end of the day, I am a cook.

Amazon.com: Does a “molecular” approach to cooking necessarily mean that you’re working with greater precision and efficiency than you would if you were only using traditional methods?

Achatz: I believe that Herve This did not mean “molecular” in the sense of chemistry when he coined the term…regardless, our approach is to do everything with a sense of purpose.  Does that mean we are a precise and efficient kitchen? Absolutely. But I don’t know if using unique ingredients and techniques pushes us in that direction. I think, rather, it is a commitment to overall excellence that does that.

Amazon.com: In today’s ever-competitive culinary landscape, is it possible to be both low-tech and genuinely innovative? 

Achatz: Absolutely. High-tech for its own sake is a bad idea and results in a soulless cuisine. I have had some high-tech meals that fall flat and taste lousy. You can certainly be innovative with just ingredients, a knife, and a pan over heat. But why not do both if you have the inclination, desire, and ability?

Amazon.com: What advice do you have for home cooks who want to experiment with your style of cooking? Is there a technique or ingredient that’s versatile enough to be a useful entry point for the uninitiated?

Achatz: You know, none of it is really that difficult to execute.  It is just very time consuming as there are usually a great many mise en place requirements. So I would advise that they start with the dishes that are small in scope and build up from there.

Amazon.com: What do you enjoy most about the process of building a new recipe?

Achatz: Discovering a combination that is both unexpected and delicious. It is remarkable to me when we hit upon something that seems incredibly novel at first only to think at the end at how obvious it was–like it was sitting there just waiting to happen.

Amazon.com: What are the challenges (and, conversely, the triumphs) for your staff in serving the Alinea menu?

Achatz: We work hard with our service team to remain approachable and to have fun with the guests. The meal should be enjoyable, but there is a great deal of information that needs to get passed to the guest to maximize their enjoyment. So we work to do that in a way that doesn’t sound like a lecture or a rote script. So the staff needs to find a balance between giving descriptions and keeping the evening rolling along. Most of the time they are good at reading a table to find out what kind of experience a group wants and then tailoring their service to that table. We can do formal Michelin 3-star European service, and we can do a really smooth but toned-down relaxed style.  Ultimately, we have a group of people in the front of house that love the restaurant and believe passionately in what we do–and as long as that shows through above all else,the guests will be well served.

Amazon.com: What’s the most gratifying presentation you’ve created for a dish? Is it featured in the book?

Achatz: Again, this is like asking a parent to single out their favorite  child. Impossible. I enjoy the Hot Potato–Cold Potato. I think it shows the collaboration between Martin (Kastner) and I. It exemplifies the whimsy, the function, interaction, and engagement we utilize in our dishes.

Amazon.com: Do you take in the occasional Chicago hot dog, or are your local food pleasures more quirky?

Achatz: Pot Belly’s Sandwich Works is always a good call. I like pizzas, hot dogs, quintessential Chicago diners. I am not a food snob.

Amazon.com: In the book you talk about how food is as much an emotional experience as a physical one. Do you have a favorite food memory?

Achatz: I have many great food memories. The first meal at the French Laundry always lands near the top. I credit that experience with opening my eyes to the creativity of food, and establishing my relationship with my mentor Thomas Keller. 

Amazon.com: Jeffrey Steingarten was frank about his initial hesitation to eat at Alinea, wondering if he would “get” your food. What’s your advice to diners who may not understand what you’re trying to do at Alinea, or who may find it intimidating?

Achatz: Try it. Really, there is no other way. I often read comments on the web or in the press about our dining experience or food from people whom I know have not eaten at the restaurant.  How can they know without trying? 95% of our guests come down to the kitchen at the end of the night and the look on their face tells me that they had a great experience. So I would tell anyone–young, old, from any part of the world–come try Alinea…there is a 95% chance you will “get” it.

Photography by Lara Kastner, Courtesy of Alinea & Achatz LLC.

If you have not seen me rant about Alinea yet, this may not make a whole lot of impact.  Alinea was a pilgrimage to me – a stunning discovery of art meeting science meeting food meeting passion meeting holly crap I can’t believe someone can cook something like that.  I like to think that I was dignified and sophisticated – the real truth is I was likely mumbling

“OMIGAWDTHISISTHECRAZIESTTHINGIHAVEEVERHADAND
IAMSOHAPPYTHATICANTBELEIVEHOWAWESOMETHISIS!” 

Something like that (likely with a bit of swearing).

The recipe book reminds me of the home instructions for building your own full sized Eiffel Tower. 

I have now been schooled by a 5-year old and a 9-year old: