Whether one is a die hard ‘foodie’ or not, does anyone truly, I mean truly, look forward to a mouthful of foam? Does anyone honestly crave deep fried mayonnaise? Are children begging their mothers or fathers to make their favourite chocolate ‘dirt’ or strawberry ‘dust’ for dessert? I think not. I for one see the sun setting on this super trendy form of cooking and I for one applaud it.
The rocket-like rise to prominence of molecular cuisine over the last decade was not a surprise for many. Particularly not surprised was the guru of molecular gastronomy himself, Ferran Adria. When he took over the helm at the ridiculously famous El Bulli in 1987 he was to change the very face of restaurant cuisine as we know it. I think none have put it better than Anthony Bordain in reference to Ferran Adria’s revolutionary cookbook. He had this to say after flipping through it’s hallowed pages, “His book is a shockingly beautiful catalogue of his latest accomplishments here… pastry chefs everywhere—when they see this—will gape in fear, and awe, and wonder. I feel for them; like Eric Clapton seeing Jimi Hendrix for the first time, one imagines they will ask themselves ‘What do I do now?’” I as a chef concur. It was such a leap in the way of thinking about food and the way we view it that I was somewhat fearful of my future in the profession. Did I now need to go back to university and actually pay attention in lab class? Did I now need a chemistry degree to cook? (Well, I will say that I currently have an order in for my copy of Modernist Cuisine and it looks like an incredible addition to my library of cook books).
I studied a much more classic form of cooking. I was well versed in the French mother sauces and more familiar with the bible that is Larousse Gastronomique not this new book with photos of foams, dusts, liquid nitrogen, hydrocolloids, xanthan gum, methylcellulose and other scientific terms. I was both in awe and disbelief. Was this the future of food? Could these laboratory creations really replace the experience of the smell of an apple pie baking in the oven or the rich, luxurious aroma of a slow red wine braised beef? I hoped not and I had my doubts.
Molecular Cuisine has certainly had it’s time in the sun. El Bulli is not the only world renowned restaurant among its proponents. There are Heston Blumnethal’s Fat Duck, Grant Achatz’s Alinea, Wylie Dufresne’s wd~50 and Laurant Gras’ L20 to name but just a few of the numerous restaurants pioneering this trend. There is little doubt that these chefs behind the ovens (or should I say in the laboratories) of these restaurants are some of the most talented on the planet. It seems that in these kitchens there is a tendency for technology to outshine the integrity of the ingredient. It seems a bit too pretentious to me. So it is with a full heart that I write this article and I profess that I see the end of this trend on the horizon. These super-talented chefs may soon need to focus their talents on more classic or less fussy fare. I am also certain and can say with complete conviction that I would be first in line to taste these masters’ more ‘simple’ creations. Imagine what these maestros could do with a rack of lamb if less preoccupied with freezing the accompanying aioli in liquid nitrogen and focused more squarely on the main ingredients at hand.
The antithesis to molecular gastronomy could be said to be what I call ‘comfort food’. I am and will forever be a huge supporter of this style of cuisine. This is the food I believe people crave, this is the food I believe people dream about. Fried chicken (if you’ve been paying attention (see June issue of Think Design)) or a prefect burger, a simple yet glorious bowl of fresh pasta, an expertly prepared fish and chips, a beautiful arugula salad, a piece of grilled ocean-fresh fish, mom’s chicken cacciatore or lemon cake…………now this is the food I will forever love to eat. There is much to be said for modern interpretations or innovative presentation of these classics, but at the core there is a reason they are called “classics”. They are comfortable and they make people smile, not cringe or furrow their brow wondering how you dig in to a plate of freeze dried fennel flowers. The food you grew up with, that’s ‘comfort food’ and I will venture to guess that not a single person reading this grew up eating pickled beet foam or root beer braised quail eggs. These are frivolous novelties, not food you yearn for. On the island of Phuket I certainly see this trend in my restaurant. I believe we sell more burgers and chicken tacos than any of my more innovative dishes on the menu. As a chef I can completely understand this, people will always crave what they know. They may on, a very rare occasion, want to try something completely adventurous or daring but when it comes to food I think these times of experimentation are the exception not the rule. I truly love to create new dishes and it is one of the joys of my job, but I also take great pleasure in perfecting a classic. Taking a simple dish and making the comfort food the best it can possibly be. You will find no foams on my menu and unless I have some great epiphany of some sort you never will. This is not to say I won’t go to a molecular cuisine restaurant myself, when given the opportunity I do. It’s like going to an amusement park, it’s a novelty not a place of sustenance. These opportunities may be fewer and fewer in the near future though and this is the point, I believe the diners have spoken. El Bulli is closing its doors in February and I have a feeling many others in this genre will follow suit or be forced to change. Luckily my copy of Modernist Cuisine is still on backorder and has been for some time now. Is it too late to cancel it from Amazon? It might be time to calculate how many plates of fried chicken I could swoon over instead of paying for that $625 book.
