"MolecularGastronomy" news and stories

When it comes to food and travel guides, some are known for their frugality, others for their edginess and still others for their humor. Frommer's could perhaps best be described as "Old Reliable," with picks that rarely stray far from the well-trodden path and are somewhat on the pricey side. Instead of budget-friendly options and spontaneity, Frommer's devotees could bet on an authentic, safe and somewhat luxe travel experience.

That's why it's surprising that the hot-off-the-press new book "Frommer's 500 Places for Food and Wine Lovers" offers an incredibly wide array of options for every budget. Sure, it tips its hat to the traditional institutions that one would expect from the venerable publisher, but it also offers some down-market choices that should give adventurous gourmands a run for their money. Within its pages we spied Coney Island's Totonno's Pizzeria, with some of New York's most-buzzed-about pies in spite of its location on a scuzzy stretch of Neptune Avenue, and old-school Frank Pepe's pizzeria in New Haven, Conn.

Other Frommer's finds after the jump.

.000001%* of the population will be paid actual cash money to step foot into the on deck circle at Yankee Stadium. Still, that doesn't stop hordes of fans from TiVoing Inside Baseball, poring over box scores and suiting up in team regalia on game day. For some of us, food holds an equally compelling balance of gut-level devotion and wonkish stat-based compulsion. A reservation at elBulli is akin to scoring home team dugout seats for the seventh game of the World Series. Food fans -- here's your program.

It's said that 2,000,000 requests a year come in for just 8000 seats at Ferran Adrià's Spanish temple of molecular gastronomy. The closest many of us will come is grazing through this brand new 528 page play-by-play, A Day at elBulli An insight into the the ideas, methods and creativity of Ferran Adrià. It's not so much the common parlance's "food porn" as it is a post-millennial culinary junkie's process orgy, documenting each staff motion and motivation, every microgram of alginate and liquid nitrogen, and fetishistically breaking down quantity and custom and customer/server semiotics.

The proverbial sausage has never been so obsessively, graphically made for public consumption, and rarely has it been so deliciously presented. There are pleasing pictures and recipes, to be sure (Hazelnut praline air, anyone? Perhaps some Garrapi-nitro pine nuts?), but sans easy access to an Isomalt-R-Us, it's a fever-dream cookbook. It is, however, a deeply heartening food-ifesto.

Check out this hilarious essay, in which Slate's Sarah Dickerman outfits her kitchen with molecular gastronomy tools in an effort to see whether her picky, veggie-shy 4-year-old is more likely to eat broccoli that's been turned into a gelatinized orb.

Dickerman buys a $200 Texturas kit, produced by molecular gastronomy king Ferran Adria of Spain's El Bulli, which contains calcium gluconolactate, powdered xanthan gum, agar agar, and lecithin, along with a giant syringe. She and her son mix and stir the various powders like mad scientists, producing tomato spheres and tadpole-shaped broccoli balls (pictured).

Does he like it? Not so much. Carrot juice "air" is more successful. Plus, all the weird, slippery gelatinized, foamed food, the kid's ready for some real dinner.

Source

There's quite a bit of buzz about Heston Blumenthal's new cookbook, at least on the other side of the pond. One of the masters of molecular gastronomy and the owner of three Micheline star The Fat Duck, Mr. Blumenthal is renowned for his amazing, and amazingly complex food.

Now he's brought his molecular know-how to the masses...sort of. His new cookbook, The Big Fat Duck Cookbook, is a huge, 516 page, 12 pound, £100 ($200-though I found it for about $145) monster. I quite frankly have a hard time believing that many people are going to be rushing out to get it, especially at this economically uncertain time. It's pointed out in both of the articles in the Guardian this week, that not only is the book expensive, but it requires expensive and hard to find ingredients and equipment. Both of those aspects make it less likely that anyone would do anything more than drool over the reportedly exquisite photography.

Still, I'd love to be able to get a look at the Big Fat Duck Cookbook. I wonder if my local library will be getting this tome? If I could take pictures and see what recipes I could make, I'd definitely be one happy cook. Unfortunately, I think the library is the only way many people would be able to get a look at it.

Move over Ferran Adrià. Northern China has its own version of molecular gastronomy: hand-pulled noodles. Well not quite, but the above clip of Chef Mark Pi is fascinating not only because of the sheer craftsmanship required to, er, pull off such a feat, but because of the science lesson the narrator gives.

Physicist Philip Morrison gives us noodle making as a way of discussing the size, particularly the thickness, of atoms. He states: "We approach the division of matter...by halving and halving and halving it again." This point is clearly demonstrated by Chef Pi's demonstration of hand-pulling dragon's beard noodles. After folding the noodles a dozen times he's created 4,096 ultrathin strands. Morrison points out that if the venerable chef had managed 42 times his noodles would have reached atomic thickness.

Incidentally, this vid comes from a 1987 PBS program The Ring of Truth: Atoms. I found another great and hilarious clip featuring Julia Child. Without giving too much away, all I'm going to say is it involves her isolating pure carbon.