We at Veritas are not magicians, wizards, Willy Wonkas (Although Josh does resemble an Oompah Loompah), Kardashians, and most certainly not
Molecular Gastronomes/Gastronimists/Gastronomers/Gastronians/Gastronicians. Similar to the way Jersey Shore erroneously shifted the way we perceive the respectable citizens of the Garden State, so too does the term Molecular Gastronomy falsely and ignorantly stereotype us. Coming from a background in the Biological Sciences, it is laughable to conceive that the three of us sit around using electron microscopes, contemplate the secrets of cold fusion, analyze the magnetic properties of nuclei using NMR spectroscopy, or create new dishes that will one day appear on the periodic table of elements.
The Veritas of the matter is that the term Molecular Gastronomy is ancient, silly, and most importantly instills an incorrect and potentially harmful presumption that people will be walking into a science laboratory before they walk into a restaurant. In the majority of human race examples, all gastronomy involves molecules, so the term is superfluous. However, since (ironically) you want scientific proof that this term is silly, please refer to Lecture 1 of the Harvard Food & Science series in the years 2011 and 2012, where food science sage Harold McGee discusses the origin of the term and why it set a stigma that even the most prominent practitioners look at with dismay; or would exclaim in modern time, “SMH!” If you still must label some of our practices however, because a rose by any other name would change the name “Rose”, and you really feel the need to have to label everything; call it modernist cuisine, call it interpretive American, or just call it delicious food, as we do.
The reason we delve into these depths is not because it is novel, cool, or exhibited on Top Chef; it is because it expands our repertoire of techniques. It refines our craft; it gives us a bigger vocabulary in which we can express ourselves. We do not abandon tradition, but we do take the approach of questioning why we do the things we do, and how we can do them better.
So now that it is clear what we are not, let us speak of what we are. We are three people that are always seeking to learn practical ways to make things consistently delicious. The term delicious for our purposes may be defined as a positive sensation and reaction in response to a series of sensual stimuli that usually include taste, but also may encompass smell, touch, sight, sound, emotion, and memory. Too often, people in the culinary industry are extrapolating without answering the basic question, “Is it delicious?” If it is not something that is enjoyed, it is mostly useless to us. Delicious is the Alpha and the Omega of what we try to do. Delicious is what brings us together, and the reason to go out to enjoy cuisine. (No, this is not a Kikkoman ad) Once delicious has been attained by our definition however, our job does not stop.
The Veritas of the matter is that the term Molecular Gastronomy is ancient, silly, and most importantly instills an incorrect and potentially harmful presumption that people will be walking into a science laboratory before they walk into a restaurant. In the majority of human race examples, all gastronomy involves molecules, so the term is superfluous. However, since (ironically) you want scientific proof that this term is silly, please refer to Lecture 1 of the Harvard Food & Science series in the years 2011 and 2012, where food science sage Harold McGee discusses the origin of the term and why it set a stigma that even the most prominent practitioners look at with dismay; or would exclaim in modern time, “SMH!” If you still must label some of our practices however, because a rose by any other name would change the name “Rose”, and you really feel the need to have to label everything; call it modernist cuisine, call it interpretive American, or just call it delicious food, as we do.
The reason we delve into these depths is not because it is novel, cool, or exhibited on Top Chef; it is because it expands our repertoire of techniques. It refines our craft; it gives us a bigger vocabulary in which we can express ourselves. We do not abandon tradition, but we do take the approach of questioning why we do the things we do, and how we can do them better.
So now that it is clear what we are not, let us speak of what we are. We are three people that are always seeking to learn practical ways to make things consistently delicious. The term delicious for our purposes may be defined as a positive sensation and reaction in response to a series of sensual stimuli that usually include taste, but also may encompass smell, touch, sight, sound, emotion, and memory. Too often, people in the culinary industry are extrapolating without answering the basic question, “Is it delicious?” If it is not something that is enjoyed, it is mostly useless to us. Delicious is the Alpha and the Omega of what we try to do. Delicious is what brings us together, and the reason to go out to enjoy cuisine. (No, this is not a Kikkoman ad) Once delicious has been attained by our definition however, our job does not stop.
Sometimes delicious isn’t enough, and sometimes we can’t make it delicious enough by conventional means. In these cases we think about the processes of what we do, and more importantly, we ask ourselves ¿Por qué? This is the way we are able to flow into an evolution of our cuisine. In addition to speaking very limited kitchen Spanish, we openly discuss everything we can about food daily. Clarity of flavor is as crucial as precise vocabulary. Conventional techniques often are simply methods that were used in the past and passed down as part of the craft, and too often rely on unstable dilution of flavors. More thorough discussions of this topic will appear as we progress into why we use modern thickeners and hydrocolloid technologies, but to help clarify we will give an example of a Thanksgiving dinner staple: turkey gravy.
Many people love (good) gravy because it offers a source of moisture, has a desirable unctuous consistency, and reinforces the flavor of the bird. Most good gravies and/or pan sauces are traditionally made using the wonderful scraps that stick to the pan in the cooking process. Generally the process that Grandma used to follow was to shake a little bit of regular or Wondra flour onto the grease left in the roasting pan (or butter, if grandma was into that sort of thing), “cook the starch out” for a little bit and use a little bit of water, milk, wine, stock, or some other legendary flavorful liquid to dissolve the bits and finally bring the liquid to a boil to thicken and season to taste and potentially enrich with herbs and spices. While this process if familiar to most who cook regularly, it has an interesting process of solving the problem of thickening the liquid; starch and reduction. The flavor loss of reduction may be addressed in a later post (when we can afford a rotary evaporator), so we will stick to starch thickening for this entry. In addition to adding body to the gravy, starch adds additional bulk. With careful attention it is possible to notice that the gravy actually tasted more like what it was supposed to before the flour was added. This is because we added starch to thicken the gravy. Usually we add a significant amount, starting at half an ounce of flour and half an ounce of fat per each cup of liquid and progressing upward. This is the same starch that can have spinach added to it to make green pasta dough that doesn’t taste anything like spinach. The property we are referring to is flavor release, and starches like flour indeed have a poor release of flavor. In addition to this sapping of flavor, they are also susceptible to retrogradation, which is what you’ve experienced when you refrigerate your gravy, or chill cheap takeout Chinese food and see an interesting looking weeping glop that was a sauce in its past life.
So we have a problem; the gravy does not taste 100% of turkey. Water, starch, and potentially foreign fat dilute the pure flavor of the gravy, so how do we get around that? Using hydrocolloid technology, once we get the flavor we want, we can blend in a hydrocolloid (in this case Xanthan gum could be used) in a percentage usually less than half of a percent of the total weight of the sauce and achieve the consistency we want. Since we are using so little it does not rob the flavor of the sauce, and since it is not a starch we won’t have to fight with retrogradation and potential splitting of the sauce. As no starch or excess fat has been added like traditional methods, the gravy is lower in fat and happens to be gluten free. At this point the gravy is already purer in flavor than the previous one, but one might argue that fat is flavor and no gravy is complete without it. No problem; utilizing an emulsifier such as soy lecithin in liquid form, we can add an excess of 40% of rendered turkey, butter, or even bacon fat back into the sauce to enrich it and it won’t break under normal heat or chilling. This is an example of the modernist approach we sometimes take to something as simple as gravy. The video recipe posted by Scott at Seatlefoodgeek.com and MDRN kitchen can visually exemplify this in the recipe for Simplified Jus Gras :
Many people love (good) gravy because it offers a source of moisture, has a desirable unctuous consistency, and reinforces the flavor of the bird. Most good gravies and/or pan sauces are traditionally made using the wonderful scraps that stick to the pan in the cooking process. Generally the process that Grandma used to follow was to shake a little bit of regular or Wondra flour onto the grease left in the roasting pan (or butter, if grandma was into that sort of thing), “cook the starch out” for a little bit and use a little bit of water, milk, wine, stock, or some other legendary flavorful liquid to dissolve the bits and finally bring the liquid to a boil to thicken and season to taste and potentially enrich with herbs and spices. While this process if familiar to most who cook regularly, it has an interesting process of solving the problem of thickening the liquid; starch and reduction. The flavor loss of reduction may be addressed in a later post (when we can afford a rotary evaporator), so we will stick to starch thickening for this entry. In addition to adding body to the gravy, starch adds additional bulk. With careful attention it is possible to notice that the gravy actually tasted more like what it was supposed to before the flour was added. This is because we added starch to thicken the gravy. Usually we add a significant amount, starting at half an ounce of flour and half an ounce of fat per each cup of liquid and progressing upward. This is the same starch that can have spinach added to it to make green pasta dough that doesn’t taste anything like spinach. The property we are referring to is flavor release, and starches like flour indeed have a poor release of flavor. In addition to this sapping of flavor, they are also susceptible to retrogradation, which is what you’ve experienced when you refrigerate your gravy, or chill cheap takeout Chinese food and see an interesting looking weeping glop that was a sauce in its past life.
So we have a problem; the gravy does not taste 100% of turkey. Water, starch, and potentially foreign fat dilute the pure flavor of the gravy, so how do we get around that? Using hydrocolloid technology, once we get the flavor we want, we can blend in a hydrocolloid (in this case Xanthan gum could be used) in a percentage usually less than half of a percent of the total weight of the sauce and achieve the consistency we want. Since we are using so little it does not rob the flavor of the sauce, and since it is not a starch we won’t have to fight with retrogradation and potential splitting of the sauce. As no starch or excess fat has been added like traditional methods, the gravy is lower in fat and happens to be gluten free. At this point the gravy is already purer in flavor than the previous one, but one might argue that fat is flavor and no gravy is complete without it. No problem; utilizing an emulsifier such as soy lecithin in liquid form, we can add an excess of 40% of rendered turkey, butter, or even bacon fat back into the sauce to enrich it and it won’t break under normal heat or chilling. This is an example of the modernist approach we sometimes take to something as simple as gravy. The video recipe posted by Scott at Seatlefoodgeek.com and MDRN kitchen can visually exemplify this in the recipe for Simplified Jus Gras :
Modernist at Home Jus Gras
So now that we understand what we do, what it is called, and why we do it; let us venture forth and learn more!
****CLIFFSNOTES: STOP CALLING IT MOLECULAR GASTRONOMY. TOP CHEF IS NOT THE EXEMPLARY SHOW OF HOW OUR KITCHEN WORKS. WE DON’T USE STRICTLY MODERN TECHNIQUES AND APPROACHES, BUT IF WE DO WE DO IT FOR GOOD REASONS, MOSTLY TO ENHANCE AND MAKE THINGS MORE DELICIOUS; WATCH THE VIDEO ABOVE FOR AN EXAMPLE. THIS SECTION DOWN HERE IS ANALAGOUS TO WHAT YOU WILL ENJOY WHEN YOU COME TO VERITAS, THE DISCOURSE ABOVE IS HOW MUCH TIME AND THOUGHT WE PUT INTO IT.****
So now that we understand what we do, what it is called, and why we do it; let us venture forth and learn more!
****CLIFFSNOTES: STOP CALLING IT MOLECULAR GASTRONOMY. TOP CHEF IS NOT THE EXEMPLARY SHOW OF HOW OUR KITCHEN WORKS. WE DON’T USE STRICTLY MODERN TECHNIQUES AND APPROACHES, BUT IF WE DO WE DO IT FOR GOOD REASONS, MOSTLY TO ENHANCE AND MAKE THINGS MORE DELICIOUS; WATCH THE VIDEO ABOVE FOR AN EXAMPLE. THIS SECTION DOWN HERE IS ANALAGOUS TO WHAT YOU WILL ENJOY WHEN YOU COME TO VERITAS, THE DISCOURSE ABOVE IS HOW MUCH TIME AND THOUGHT WE PUT INTO IT.****
Nice.... Explanation. I like what you are doing guys and if I can get away from the restaurant and consulting I desperately want to sample your wares. Small plate cuisine is a passion of mine. It has been since Culinary school, and had followed me through my career.
ReplyDeleteAnd you are right that the more tools you have in your toolbox, the more diverse things you can build. And Molecular Gastronomy fell by the wayside with Marcel's Quantum Kitchen.
Chef Rob Hopkins
www.2-chefs.com
PS: Wife and Mom loved your food, and they are picky eaters for obvious reasons.