MOLECULAR
GASTRONOMY
Smoking cocktails and freeze-dried fruits were
magical. Until everyone learnt the tricks. Molecular gastronomy, the buzzword
of new-age cooking, might be over. But modernist cuisine is not
I vividly recall the
first thing I ate at Gaggan, Bangkok, four years ago. On the 13-course tasting
menu, it was listed simply as Yogurt. But what arrived, sitting in a soup
spoon, was a milky white sphere resembling a neatly trimmed poached egg. I slid
it into my mouth, the thin skin burst, and out gushed a gently chaat-flavoured
raita. I couldn’t understand what I’d eaten.
It was the perfect
example of one of the wonders of molecular gastronomy: spherification. The
process involves dropping flavoured liquids emulsified with sodium alginate
into a calcium chloride bath. The alginate creates a thin skin around the
liquid, shaping it into a sphere.
In 2012, Gaggan was one
of five Indian restaurants in the world using this technique. Today, in Mumbai
alone, restaurants doing molecular gastronomy are in abundance. Chefs are using
liquid nitrogen to make cold chaats; creating powdered, freeze-dried fruits to
garnish desserts; and using high-speed beaters to whip up clouds of chutney
foam.
TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING?
Sure, molecular
gastronomy — from the name to the science-lab-like techniques — has something
magical about it. And who doesn’t like magic? But what happens when every
second person can pull off a magic trick? It ceases to amaze.
Have too many restaurants
jumped on to the bandwagon just to cash in on the molecular gastronomy scene?
Zorawar Kalra, who runs several restaurants based on molecular gastronomy
(Masala Library, MasalaBar, Farzi Cafe), thinks so. “Molecular is a much-abused
word, and there are many restaurants that use it as a gimmick,” he says.
He’s probably right. It’s
not difficult to find instances where molecular techniques have been mindlessly
applied without adding to a dish or a drink. Cocktails infused with wood smoke
using smoking guns taste like stale beedis. Deconstructed vada pavs or pani puris
for the diner to assemble at the table is a malaise that need to end.
But not everyone abuses
the tools. Monkey Bar, Bandra (W), uses sous vide (see box) to slow-cook Goan
sausages to break down the tough muscle fibres. At Chemistry 101, Chef Gomes
has a unique take on the Caprese Salad: A ball of bocconcini is blown up into
an ostrich-egg-sized balloon and garnished with balsamic vinegar pearls;
accompanying shot glasses contain bocconcini balls topped with liquid
nitrogen-chilled rasam sorbet.
HOW IT ALL STARTED
But where did it all
begin?
The term Molecular and
Physical Gastronomy was coined by physicist Nicholas Kurti and physical chemist
Hervé This in 1988. Kurti was studying the science of cooking since the late
’60s, and needed a catch-all phrase. After Kurti’s death, in 1998, This
shortened it to Molecular Gastronomy. American food science writer Harold
McGee’s book, On Food and Cooking: The Science and Lore of the Kitchen (1984),
brought it closer to chefs. But it was Ferran Adrià in Spain, and Heston
Blumenthal in the UK, who popularised the concept.
Adrià started using
scientific techniques at his Michelin-starred restaurant El Bulli in Roses,
Catalonia. He began experimenting with gels, foams, textures, and spheres,
creating famous dishes like olive spheres, savoury parmesan marshmallows, and
puffed popcorn cloud. These spawned thousands of versions, including Gaggan’s
spherified Yoghurt.
Inspired by McGee’s book,
Blumenthal created grain-mustard ice cream, and snail porridge (porridge made
with snails).
Both chefs vehemently
dislike the term molecular gastronomy.
Blumenthal prefers
multi-sensory cooking; Adrià calls it deconstructivist (sic), while Anand goes
for “progressive Indian cuisine”. The argument is solid: gastronomy is a
science, not a style of cooking. Most serious chefs are more amenable to their
food being described as modernist or avant garde.
MODERNIST INDIAN
Like El Bulli, Indian
modernist restaurants were aiming for a re-interpretation and re-presentation
of food. That this could be done with Indian cuisine had been proved by Indian
chefs in London (Vineet Bhatia, Atul Kocchar, Vivek Singh) who gave birth to a
movement called Modern Indian. Or, more appropriately, Modern Indian 1.0.
Modern Indian 2.0 was
created not for a western but a local audience. The plating was not French.
Global ingredients like foie gras and blue cheese were paired with Indian
flavours. And two or more Indian cuisines were combined to create a new dish.
Chefs saw that diners were bored of eating only traditional food, and were open
to new experiences.
Modernist techniques
became a useful tool for chefs to rework Indian cuisine. Kalra says, “Food
needs to be representative of its era. Molecular gastronomy represents the
time.”
Almost every modernist
cuisine restaurant in the country uses El Bulli Texturas, a range of natural
food additives, and instruments created by Adria. Anil Chandok, based in
Mumbai, the exclusive importer of these products to India, says there’s a
year-on-year growth in sales. Chandok says, “In the beginning, Texturas were a
hard-sell, and only a couple of chefs wanted them. Now, the usage is
widespread. Chefs are using them to alter the appearance of foods, and to
modify taste by using them as a substitute for conventional ingredients.”
PROS AND CONS
While chefs grumble about
copycats, diners aren’t complaining. Trends spread. That’s the whole point of
them. Someone creates something that captures the imagination of an audience.
Others adapt, innovate, or copy.
Sure, restaurateurs
spreading the idea of modernist cuisine often aren’t adding anything new in
their replication. But imagine if Adria and Blumenthal refused to disclose
their secrets, and wanted to be the only chefs in the world to offer this
cuisine. Would we have been better or worse off ? Also, as a concept loses its
uniqueness and becomes the norm, it forces chefs to innovate anew.
POST-MOLECULAR
It’s already happening.
Kalra says we’re entering a “post-molecular world”. Masala Bar, for instance,
is experimenting with cocktails using centrifuges, magnetic stirring, and
rotary evaporation.
What we’re looking at is
not a rejection of modernist cuisine, but an evolution.
Note by Note cuisine is
the next big idea, according to Hervé This. Instead of using flesh or plant
ingredients, it uses pure chemical compounds. In a paper published in 2013,
This says the cuisine is like, “a painter using primary colours, or a musician
composing note by note”. So, instead of a beef or eggs, the chef will play with
pure protein to create a steak or a souffle.
On similar lines, Charles
Spence, professor of experimental psychology, and co-author of The Perfect
Meal: The Multisensory Science of Food and Dining, is putting his money on
gastrophysics. Gastrophysics is the study of how we experience food and drink.
Spence believes who we eat with, the setting we eat in, the background sounds
and colour, the colour and texture of the food, how it is arranged on the plate
or the table, and even the choice of cutlery, affect taste. Spence has found an
ally in Blumenthal as this is closely related to his idea of multi-sensory
dining.
How it will play out is
unclear at the moment. But what is clear is that modernist cuisine is not going
anywhere soon.
HT8JUL16
No comments:
Post a Comment