Food for aliens

It seems that the French are everywhere lately in the culinary world. Currently, there are several very famous French chefs and numerous others hoping to give French Gastronomy UNESCO humanity heritage status. In case you are unfamiliar with UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization), they are—to put it simply—an organization intent on preserving things that need preserving. This refers to both physical objects such as monuments, buildings and other structures, and not-so-physical-things such as cultural events, festivals, dances, and songs. A tour guide in Spain once told me that the idea behind UNESCO is that in case aliens come down to visit the earth, we have a running list of things we need to show them. I guess the French want to feed our intergalactic visitors some beouf bourignon.

This past weekend I attended an interesting discussion held by FIAF (French Institute: Alliance Francaise). The topic was—of course—food. The discussion consisted of a French chef, a French artist and the American chef-with-French-roots Wylie Dufresne of the restaurant WD-50. The guests were there to discuss the future of food with a heavy emphasis on molecular gastronomy.

Molecular gastronomy is not a new idea by any stretch, but recently it has been getting a lot of attention. Mister Dufresne is by no means the first to dabble in molecular gastronomy and has nowhere near the fame status as Spain’s Ferran Adrian, but since his restaurant won a Michelin star he has been on the forefront of the scene in the States.

The assembly was brought together to discuss whether or no molecular gastronomy is here to stay, or it is just a fashionable fad that chefs use to get attention and gain publicity. One big argument against molecular gastronomy is pretty simple: why mess with something that tastes good? Dufrense and David Zuddas (the French chef) both agree that food is an ever-expanding art and as long as you don’t lose sight of food’s main purpose (to taste delicious) then what is wrong with a little experimentation. If a bagel with lox and cream cheese tastes good, then why not make bagel ice cream, roll it in poppy seeds, dry cream cheese to a peanut brittle consistency and serve it with salmon sashimi? These are exactly the kinds of question Dufrense asks and exactly the kind of food he creates.

There is a lot to be said about our correlation between visual references and taste references. If we close our eyes an eat a bagel and cream cheese, but then open them to see we were actually eating ice cream, will our outlook on food change? These playful recipes are what Dufrense, Zuddas and scores of other chefs are trying to introduce to their customers. Food can be playful, intelligent and delicious at the same time. Just because popcorn shrimp tastes good, does that mean we can’t make popcorn soup and garnish it with fried shrimp?


This little gem is a spoonful of Parmesan cheese, an orb of risotto with tomato and basil. The risotto was made traditionally, calcium was added and then blops of it were tossed into a pool of some sort of seaweed liquid which reacts with calcium and molds the risotto into light little globs. Pretty neat, eh?

The World's First Beverage- 2nd Annual Manhattan Cask Ale Fest

“The mouth of a perfectly contented man is filled with beer.”
-Egyptian proverb, C 2200 BCE

I found this quote in a book by a fellow named Tom Standage. The book is called The History of the World in Six Glasses and it traces the development of six beverages through different epochs of human history. The reason I bring it up is because the book thoroughly explores the origins—and supposed origins—of beer. Origins that, Standage says, are “closely intertwined with the origins of civilization itself."

While this statement may seem a bit outlandish, it makes sense when you break it down. All alcohol was discovered by accident; grapes left too long turned into wine, honey left too long (when mixed with some water) turned to mead, and grains left too long would turn to beer. However, until the invention of pottery around 6000 BCE, it was impossible to store wine and mead since grapes were only available in season (no refrigeration yet!) and wild honey was available in limited qualities. Beer, however, is made from grains, which in are readily available and easily stored. Also, beverages made with prepared water (i.e. boiled) were safer to drink than straight water. These reasons may be the reason that the first written recipe—written in cuneiform—is for beer.

You may be wondering why I am spewing information about the birth of beer. Well, primarily, it is easy to justify the importance of the drink to those who find it distasteful or “gross.” More importantly, however, it is to divulge a bit of information about cask ales. I was fortunate enough to attend the 2nd Annual Manhattan Cask Ale festival this weekend at the Chelsea Brewery in Manhattan and feel that is my duty as a devout beer lover to share with you the deliciousness that is cask ale.

Since we’ve already established that beer goes hand and hand with the birth of civilization (and if you dispute this fact, please do get in touch. I would be more than happy to discuss this with you), let us examine how beer was traditionally served before the advent of Nitrogen and Carbon Dioxide.

The vast majority of bars and restaurants today serve draught beer from a keg. This keg is pressurized and has an opening in the top where a line can be attached. Without going into detail—and if you care for a more specific description, you can go here—the artificial pressure of the keg is sometimes coupled with nitrogen or CO2 tanks to force the beer from the keg to the tap and accounts for a portion of the carbonation in a beer. In bottled beer, C02 is forced into the bottle before capping to create the necessary “fizz” when you crack the bottle open (it is also added to prevent air from staying in the bottle, which would oxidize the beer and skunk it.)

Cask Ale, however, is beer served the way it used to be served. A cask is similar in shape to a keg, but there is no forced carbonation and the opening is towards the side of the cask, not in the middle. There are two ways to serve cask ale: a beer engine (basically a hand pump, similar to an old water pump) and gravity style (literally angling the cask on its side so gravity can do its work). Both of these styles irritate the remaining yeast in the cask and allow for a little bit of natural head (the fizz on the top of your glass) to form.

Cask Ale is by far my favorite way to enjoy beer. Some people say it is flat and warm, but since the beer is served at a warmer temperature (in order not to kill the yeast) it allows for a richer flavor. Also, while there is less carbonation, the full taste of the beer perfectly accentuates the natural carbonation. A well made beer will have enough carbonation to please the taste buds without leaving you yearning for canned CO2.

The festival at the Chelsea Brewery was serving up 47 different varieties of Cask Ale, the most ever put together in one spot in Manhattan! I went to the Cask Festival at the Brazen Head bar in Brooklyn a year ago, and while their stash of 20 plus casks was substantial, the collection at the Chelsea Pier was almost overwhelming. Patrons were allowed to choose from 8 oz or 16 oz serving sizes and after purchasing your beer, you could wander around the brewery or take a seat at the outside pier and watch the sunset over the river (and New Jersey, what fun!). Over all, it’s a great experience and a fantastic way to become acquainted with cask ale. If you ever see cask ale offered at your favorite neighborhood bar, definitely try it. You’ll be happy you did.


PS: I called up the Brazen Head in Brooklyn and they said that the next Cask Festival would be held sometime in October. Get your taste buds ready and call your drinking buddies!

Cheers!

Wylie Dufrense and the future of food.

Go see this.

I don't care if people find molecular gastronomy a positive for cooking or a disgrace, it sure as hell is interesting.

Let's think about what we put in our mouths!

There was good article in yesterday’s times titled “Instead of Eating to Diet, They’re Eating to Enjoy.” The piece talks about the recent decline in American dieting as more people are attempting to add food to their diets instead of avoiding foods.

The general idea—and I have no idea why this is so hard for people to comprehend—is that if you eat a variety of foods and focus on things that are natural, local (locality just helps assure freshness and a lack of chemicals and additives used for transportation and storage) and varied you will have no problem ingesting all the vitamins and nutrients necessary for a healthy life.

Let me leave you with another point I found particularly interesting:

“Also, the more time people spend on tasks like food shopping, cooking and kitchen cleanup, the more likely they are to be of average weight. The Economic Research Service of the United States Department of Agriculture found that people of normal weight spend more time on meal-related tasks than people who are overweight or underweight.”

Tara Parker Pope for the New York Times
September 17, 2008

Way to go College Grad...

Well, it looks as if I'm incapable of checking a simple calendar. The food fest in Jackson Heights was last week. Anyways, Cask Ale fest here I come.

Charity for the rich and famous

Here are the New York Times Dining Section benefit events for this week:

Autumn Harvest Dinner: $350 for champagne hour, $1,000 for dinner. Supports the Share Our Strength charity.

Women Who Cook: $300 or $500 for tasting. Supports woman with breast and ovarian cancer.

Mario Batali Dinner: $1,500. Benefits the Food Bank of New York City and the Earth Lab Foundation.

Taste of Jackson Heights and Film Festival: Admission is free and tasting plates for $1-$3. Supports…Jackson Heights?


Try and guess which event I’ll be checking out.

Dreaming of Gherkins

Unfortunately, I was unable to get off of work to attend the 8th annual Pickle Fest on Orchard Street today. Tomorrow I’m off to pick up a jar of Kosher Dills to ease the pain of waiting until next year. If you went, I hope you ate a pickle or two for me.