Diversion: Alinea Restaurant, Chicago

Masked by a non-descript boxy gray building exterior, Alinea Restaurant should be re-named Alinea Interactive Dining Theatre. As guests, we were audience to a 3 ½ hour culinary show featuring the most innovative and orchestrated progressive American cuisine, courtesy of Chef/Owner Grant Achatz. From the moment we entered the dark glowing hallway and startled ourselves at the Star Trek-like automatic sliding door, we quickly realized that tonight’s twenty-three course “Tour” would be unique.


There were few pleasantries, no ambient music, and no menu provided. The minimalist décor was muted. This lack of sensory stimuli caused greater anticipation for things to come and I soon distracted myself by voyeuristically watching the action at neighbouring tables. The wait staff was polite but somewhat robotic in their delivery, rambling off course descriptions with much speed and little enthusiasm. More impressive was their high degree of attentiveness, as every crumb or watermark was removed from the tabletop within 2 minutes of its appearance.

The food, its presentation, and frequently, its consumption, provided the entertainment for the evening. A duo of crab, one served hot as crispy soft shell crab paired with English peas, duck confit, and Asian five-spice notes and the other served cold as a verrine with identical flavours plus a dried ginger concoction and tiny orange pate de fruit cubes, was bold, complex, and delicious. The most satisfying course for my palate was the pigeonneau à la Saint-Clair, a throwback to Escoffier, mainly because of the unfussy traditional flavours of squab, onion, and mushroom (the latter two ingredients being definite components of my “last meal”), a stark contrast to the 22 other hypermodern intricate courses. My choice for most intriguing bite was the green almond encased in a juniper gelée dotted on each corner with salt, sugar, lime zest, and citric acid.


Inventive and interactive presentation of the food using odd serving pieces called “the squid” or “the eye” made the act of eating novel and fun. A pin skewered through a hot potato ball, cubes of cheese and butter had to be pulled through a wax bowl before dropping into cold potato soup and slurped up. A clear tube filled with a hibiscus, vanilla, and bubble gum flavoured something was sucked out. Harnessing scents to complement a dish was successfully executed by using smoldering cinnamon sticks and pillows of lavender air that deflated by the weight of the plate. The dining experience was sensory and oddly playful despite being set in a room which was the exact opposite, a touch serious and monotone; however, I suspect that this was intentional in order to accentuate the food itself.

By the 10th course, I was becoming fatigued and by the 16th course, my belly was pleading for mercy. Because of our late 8:30pm seating, that lavender pillow was looking mighty tempting by the time it appeared at almost midnight. Nonetheless, we persevered and ate every last flossy, foamy, dehydrated, spherical, transparent bite. Unfortunately, after diligently photographing every course, I was delirious with gastronomic overload combined with sleep deprivation and forgot to photograph the final dish! In retrospect, the shorter “Tasting” experience would have been equally outstanding but if you do insist on this extreme dining marathon, then get an earlier reservation than we did. Ultimately, Alinea did not disappoint. The food and eating experience exceeded my expectations, overshadowing any subjective lack of ambience. I will safely tuck my souvenir copy of the May 31, 2009 “Tour” menu into my Alinea cook book and fondly reminisce about this once in a lifetime dining adventure for years to come.

Gone fishing (again)

A friend of Eric's once commented that our small DVD collection should belong to a seven year old, not two thirty-something professionals. Perhaps he was right in that a few too many Harry Potter movies and Pixar animated flicks fill the shelf. In my defence, most DVDs in my possession were gifts; however, I admit that Finding Nemo and Ratatouille do rank extremely high amongst my list of all-time favourites. So when the opportunity to make a Nemo cake for a clownfish-loving two year old named Kara came up, it was hard to refuse.

A 6" dome, a 9" round and an 8" square cake were first assembled together before Nemo was carved freehand. Chocolate and vanilla cake with vanilla mousseline and strawberries were chosen flavours. Although the original intention was for 30 servings, I have a feeling this Nemo could have fed closer to 45 servings! (For scale, the cake board used was 16" x 24" in dimension.)


Nemo was covered in rolled fondant and coloured with both airbrushing and hand painting. The purple and gold corals were made of rock sugar while the green sea weed was very rudimentary pulled sugar. I wanted to give an underwater effect by adding a sheet of clear blue bubble sugar. Ultimately, the Nemo cake was so convincing that Kara reportedly tried to hug the cake, confusing it for her Nemo stuffed toy. If that isn't a true compliment, I don't know what is! Happy Birthday Kara!

Loving it

I am so thankful that I have friends who love to eat. My friends are not foodies per se, nor gluttons by any means. Yet, these women know the meaning of taking pleasure in the enjoyment of food, savoury or sweet. We all have our gastronomic likes and dislikes (I am probably guilty of the most dislikes) but the sheer joy of eating is something that we all share. For example, we all took pleasure in consuming my friend Shelley's birthday tart, composed of strawberries, dark chocolate ganache, and chocolate frangipane in a chocolate shortcrust.

The converse is always frustrating, sharing a meal with someone who regards food as just calories or where the number of ingredients which are subjectively unpalatable outnumber those which are acceptable. Can you imagine going through life avoiding everything that you suspect has onion in it? In contrast, food intolerances and restrictions are certainly valid issues but even these should never stop one from enjoying food. I know a kosher vegetarian with a nut allergy who appreciates her food, from garden to plate.


Speaking of gardens, mine is blooming despite being ransacked by skunks who feasted on 50% of my tulip bulbs earlier this year. Cherry blossom season is in full swing and just like the importance of taking time to smell the roses, taking time to gasp at the beauty of a flowering cherry tree is equally important for your mental health!

Project Puff

Spring has sprung here in Vancouver, evidenced by cherry-blossom lined streets and the accompanying pollen. I even dared to get my winter coat dry-cleaned and stored this week, although my boots are still on stand-by. These transitional seasons can often be disorienting to me, a person who admittedly does not deal well with change. I am a creature of habit who prefers repetition and routine with an occasional dose of interesting.

My interesting experience over the past two weeks was playing around with pâte feuilletée (puff pastry). It has been probably over two years since I have bothered to make puff pastry at home by hand (at work with a sheeter does not count). And since the weather is still cool, I decided to make inverted puff pastry (where the butter layer starts on the outside instead). Four folds later (single, double, single, double), I had more puff dough than Eric and I should ever consume alone. Luckily, it freezes nicely and was portioned over the last two weeks into five different products to be shared amongst friends.


The tarte tatin and strawberry-lemon cream mille feuille were victims of my over-zealous oven. My puff dough browned too quickly, leaving it underbaked in the centre, as you can witness in the mille feuille's cross-section. Next time, I will also vent the tarte tatin during baking to lessen the residual cooking juices in order to keep the puff crust crispy, not soggy.

After some temperature regulation issues were resolved, my vol-au-vents baked properly but a few decided to slouch over to one side, much like my top-heavy hyacinths currently blooming in the garden. I think I need to practice shaping and assembling these again to redeem myself.

Finally, no puff pastry project is complete without using up leftover scraps to make palmiers and/or cinnamon straws. These crispy little munchies are so easy and make my frugal heart sing. In fact, I might use up my residual unused puff dough to make these tasty morsels instead. Everything tastes better with cinnamon sugar on it, doesn't it?

Snack time

Forget chocolate, forget sugar. Give me the most delicious smoked oysters, straight from beautiful Cortes Island, British Columbia, any time any where. These Oyster Man's gourmet smoked oysters are plump, luscious and smokey, not overly salty nor drenched in oil. After purchasing an entire case directly from the Oyster Man himself last fall, I had to purposely hide them on a very high shelf in the kitchen in order to prevent myself from easy access and immediate consumption. Just taking a snack break on a rainy afternoon between the third and fourth turns of my pâte feuilletée (puff pastry). I have been inspired by these buttery yellow daffodils this week...

Diversion: Sooke Harbour House

The Sooke Harbour House deserves more blog time than the one sentence I allotted in my last post. This lovely hotel combines nature, food, art, and relaxation anytime of the year (my four favourite things in life) and is just a short 40 minutes drive from Victoria, BC. Overlooking the Olympic Peninsula, SHH is remarkable for so many reasons but my focus was on the culinary philosophy and offerings from this luxurious but whimsical destination.

Both the exterior and interior of what is essentially a great big oceanfront house reflects SHH's devotion to all things food, celebrating the journey that food takes from the field or ocean to the plate. Even in the winter, wild greens flourish and end up in my Seventeen Leaf salad (I counted just to double check). Undoubtedly, the summer months would offer a more bountiful harvest of edible flowers, herbs, fruits, and vegetables but we were impressed by what was available during this cold dreary March, especially the 8 foot tall walking stick cabbage.

As a city mouse, not a country mouse, having a wood-burning fireplace in our room, the Passion Flower room (appropriate since my all-time favourite pastry ingredient is passionfruit), was a novelty. Every nook and cranny of the house is covered in local artwork inspired by the natural vistas and wildlife from land and sea. The wall of crabs in the dining room was particularly amusing, especially because of Eric's birthday cake.


There is very little negative to say about the SHH, except that I did not like the deconstructed apple strudel which concluded the seven-course tasting menu. Exceedingly sweet, it was a far cry from the impressive trio of sorbets we had the night before, pairing local flavours such as apricot and sage in creamy form. Ignoring this minute detail, our weekend at the Sooke Harbour House was the perfect romantic getaway to celebrate four decades of Eric's existence with outstanding local cuisine and beautiful surroundings.

Surprises

I have never successfully organized any event which involved an element of surprise, mainly because I am a notably bad actor/liar. This weekend, however, required major covert operations in order to celebrate Eric's 40th birthday in high style without his knowledge. Even the taxi driver was in on the surprise as I kidnapped him to his first helicopter ride to Victoria and onwards to Sooke for a relaxing and luxurious excursion at Sooke Harbour House.


The problem was that I had also promised to make him a cake of his choosing before deciding to spend his birthday out of town. Eric has an affinity for crab, biologically and gastronomically. Many of our travels, including this weekend, have involved tidepooling and in fact, we were engaged in Tofino in the rain, surrounded by a large party of star fish. Hence, he choose a crab-themed birthday cake to be served after our return on Monday, giving me a challenge, both technically and logistically.


Working with pastillage was the best choice since I needed a medium which allowed me to work well in advance. Using a live (later cooked and eaten) Dungeness crab model, I shaped the leg segments by hand from pastillage which were airbrushed with my new Aztek airbrush system which I love. The sides of the gift box (and a lid with bow which I forgot to photograph!) were also made of pastillage.


The cake itself was also made in advance and frozen after being masked in buttercream. An 8" x 8" square cake served as the gift box interior and the crab's body was carved from a 6" diameter round cake. Three layers of chocolate cake and two layers of pistachio dacquoise were sandwiched by dark chocolate ganache, passionfruit curd, and pistachio mousseline. After returning home on Sunday night, I covered the crab's body in rolled fondant and airbrushed the final details. Don't you love its smiling face?


The element of surpise with Eric's Crab birthday cake was not the cake itself since it is impossible to hide multiple crab parts littered throughout the kitchen from the husband. Instead, the expectation was that this cake was to be served at a small family dinner Monday evening; however, I stealthily planned to present the Crab to him at work Monday morning which meant I only had a rushed few hours to assemble, photograph, and deliver the Crab intact. With only a few minor hiccups, the Crab was a hit, finally cut and consumed after great initial reluctance to destroy it. Happy Birthday Eric! Forty is the new thirty!