It must be ultrasonic month here at Seattle Food Geek headquarters, ‘cause I’ve got another high-frequency food hack.  I recently bought an ultrasonic mist generator to use as a humidifier for a meat curing chamber I’m working on.  These little devices emit ultrasonic waves (around 20KHz) which cause the surrounding water to cavitate into a very fine mist without raising the water temperature.  Since the mist is so fine (about 1 micron) and is instantaneous and low-temperature, I thought it might be a great way to disperse aromatics around a food or beverage.  I ran a few experiments to see if it would turn alcohol into mist, but unfortunately most of the results were very poor. 

Rum did bupkis.  Whiskey gin were the same.  Dry vermouth produced a small amount of mist, and absinthe on it’s own produced a decent fog.  However, since Absinthe is meant to be consumed with added water anyway, the cocktail you see above was the best result I achieved in my limited testing.  From what little I can gather, I think the mist generator relies on a relationship between the frequency of the emitted ultrasonic wave and the speed with which sound travels through water in order to produce the mist.  Sound waves will move at different speeds in liquids with different densities, so perhaps tweaking frequency of the transducer would allow me to directly mist other liquids.  Just a theory. 

The mist generator has a ring of garish, color-changing LED lights built in – this is not part of the intended effect.  However, the mist produced above the drink does add something nice to the act of drinking it; the aromatics of the absinthe are amplified by becoming airborne, so you get a pleasant hit of anise aroma before you make contact with the drink.  I think there’s potential to this technique, but until I can make mists out of whatever liquid I want, and without having to submerge a plastic doodad in your cocktail, I’ll consider this to be a “promising prototype.”

Yesterday I had the pleasure of photographing (and eating!) the Winter Tasting Menu at Canlis with Brian Canlis.  Again, Chef Jason Franey the team at Canlis are absolutely killing it.   Here’s a look at what they’ve been up to, but the pictures don’t begin to do justice to the experience of dining at Canlis.  I can’t stress this enough: if you haven’t been, go.  If you haven’t been recently, you’re in for a whole new experience.  Big thanks to Brian and the entire Canlis crew.

Click through for photos of the whole menu…

Above & below: smoke cured salmon, maple syrup, steelhead roe, caraway seed.

Below: diver scallops, cara cara orange, fennel, horseradish snow

Below: hamachi, granny smith apple, serano pepper, yuzu

Below: guinea fowl, heirloom carrots, parsley, cumin

Below: the intensely delicious guinea foul skin, studded with salt

Below: guinea foul, after.

Below: dry-aged new york, cauliflower, black trumpet mushrooms

Below: pear, parsnip, pumpernickel

The nice folks at PolyScience generously loaned me a Sonicprep ultrasonic homogenizer for a few weeks of experimentation.  If the last sentence sounded like gibberish, it’s probably a good idea to read Jethro’s post on our experiments for a little background knowledge.  The Sonicprep is a device that emits powerful ultrasonic energy through the tip of a metal probe, into your food.  Fundamentally, high-amplitude ultrasound is really good at two things: making stable emulsions and smashing molecules together. The Sonicprep excels in both applications, but has a few nuances to overcome before I can justify the price for this gorgeous piece of technology.  Here I’ll describe some of the tests I preformed with the Sonicprep (many with Jethro’s assistance) and the conclusions we reached. 

Making Emulsions

The Sonicprep is really good at emulsifying liquids.  Like, scary good.  The first thing I did after unboxing the beast of a machine was to pour arbitrary amounts of oil and water into small glasses and give them a whirl in the Sonicprep.  Within seconds, the oil and water were mixed into a pale “milk”, and there was almost no trace of the source liquids remaining. 

The photo at the top shows a small amount of chili oil being mixed into water.  I only let the machine run for a few seconds at full power, which is why you can see the unincorporated oil on the right-hand side.  However, if I had continued sonicating, all of the oil would have become incorporated.  This isn’t necessarily an oil-to-water ratio I’d recommend; it was mostly to illustrate the process.

Unfortunately, all of my oil-based emulsions were plagued by a confounding problem: they tasted like metal and smelled like an electrical fire.  I’ve talked to several other folks who routinely use ultrasonic homogenizers and nobody else has ever encountered the problem.  Chris Young (Modernist Cuisine co-author) suggested that the intense ultrasonic energy may be setting off a chain reaction of free radical release within the oil, but unfortunately I don’t have the equipment necessary to test this theory.  It is possible that there was something specific about the machine I was using, or perhaps I was attempting to mix quantities that were just too small… the jury is still out on the cause, but this threw an unfortunate wrench in most emulsion tests. 

I did manage to create some very promising fat-based emulsions.  For example, I made the Serious Eats 36-hour Sous Vide Porchetta, which yielded quite a bit of delicious, liquid fat.  I sonicated the seasoned fat together with apple and pear cider with a touch of added xanthan gum and it turned into an exquisite gravy with the texture of thickened heavy cream.  It was stable over several days and had far more flavor than a comparable dairy-based gravy.  WIN!

I also created emulsions with duck fat and used the Sonicprep to emulsify a vegan gelato.  It performed wonderfully at those tasks.

The picture to the left shows the tip of the Sonicprep submerged in water with a sesame oil float.  The “cloud” emitted from the tip is the turbulent cavitation created by the high-energy ultrasound waves. 

Alcohol

Most of the buzz I’d heard about the Sonicprep was related to its ability to “instant age” spirits.  By sonicating alcohol with charred oak chips and other flavorful substances, allegedly one could turn cheap booze into good booze.  This promise was tempting, so we ran a few tests.  The net-net is that the Sonicprep does seem to improve the quality and “agedness” of spirits through this process. 

However, (and this is a big deal) the Sonicprep didn’t produce our favorite faux-aged booze.  We set up a double-blind experiment in which we infused whiskey with charred American oak barrel chips and orange peel (rind and pith) using three different infusion methods.  We controlled the proportion of wood and orange to whiskey and proceeded to infuse with a) the Sonicprep, b) the Smoking Gun, and c) a whipping siphon with nitrous oxide.   I labeled each sample with a letter, then Jethro re-labeled each sample with a symbol (shown above) – that way, neither of us knew which was which.  We tasted all three samples and wrote down our tasting notes privately.  At the end, we compared our notes and discovered that we reached the same conclusion.  The Smoking Gun sample was our least favorite – I attribute this to the fact that orange peel is not meant for burning.  I’ve done experiments with Smoking Gun-smoked drinks before, and I’m a fan.  The Sonicprep sample came in second – it had a light smokiness and a little burn on the throat.  The nitrogen-cavitated sample we infused in the whipping siphon took first place – medium smokiness and a smoother finish.  This was a huge shock to both of us. 

So, we got a little more creative.  I had a notion that, if people enjoy smoking cigars while drinking cognac, a cigar-infused cognac might be delicious.  Unfortunately, Jethro’s neighborhood bodega didn’t carry actual cigars, so he grabbed a peach flavored Swisher Sweets instead.  Ooookkkay, we’re up for anything.  In trial one, we unrolled the cigar and sonicated the tobacco in a small bottle of Courvoisier (I know, we’re super classy).  This produced a drink that was indistinguishable from the control.  So, in trial two, we charred the tobacco and sonicated it into the liquor.  This produced a drink with the color of old coffee and the flavor of an ashtray’s butthole.  To date, it was the worst thing I’ve ever tasted. 

We also tried “barrel aging” beer using the same approach as our liquor trials.  The good news is, yes, you can barrel age beer.  Even PBR!  As you can tell, I’m very selective about my alcohol.  Unfortunately, in the process of sonicating the beer, the Sonicprep effectively degassed it.  Had we kept CO2 cartriges on-hand, this would have been easy to remedy.  Unfortunately, we only had nitrous which doesn’t produce the same acidic flavors.  Was barrel aged PBR good?  I’m not sure, honestly.  Without blind-tasting it, carbonated, at the same temperature as a control, my personal bias creeps in and influences what I think I prefer.  But, I believe it has promise.

I also decided to make beer using the Sonicprep.  My thinking was this: traditionally, you dissolve the ingredients in a batch of beer by boiling them in water.  But, the heat of boiling likely changes the flavor of the beer.  If you could dissolve the ingredients and extract flavors without boiling, you’d have a fundamentally different beer.  Perhaps it would be the whitest white beer ever!  So, I poured a batch of Belgian-style ale ingredients and distilled water into a 5-gallon plastic bucket and started sonicating. 

Unfortunately, the effective range of the Sonicprep tip is only a few inches, so it didn’t circulate the beer ingredients as I hoped.  The malt extract sank to the bottom and the fuggle floated on the top.  Hmph. 

Rather than give up (like a sane person might), I divided the 5-gallon batch into 1-liter mini-batches and processed them one-by-one.  I added charred oak chips and sonicated the beer on full power for about 5 minutes per batch, then poured the batch through a strainer.  Once I had reached the end of 5 gallons (which felt like days later) I added the yeast and let it do its thing.  Again, without a control to compare to it’s hard to render an objective judgment, but it’s a good beer.  There’s a faint note of charred oak and the beer is light in color, but in no way “white” – the malt extract is quite dark and is responsible for most of the color in the beer.  In any event, I got 5 gallons of a very drinkable beer that was never boiled.  I’ll call that a WIN.

Coffee

I reasoned that if the Sonicprep could pull flavors from charred oak, it might do interesting things with ground coffee.  The photo above shows two shots of espresso – the one on the left was pulled from my Capresso C1000 at full strength; the one on the right was 21g of ground espresso beans sonicated in 200g of water at 76C for 30 seconds at 100% power.  Clearly, the two methods produced different results.  The Sonicprep espresso has the cloudiness of an emulsion, leading me to hypothesize that some of the oils from the beans were suspended in the water.  Strangely, both espressos had the same strength.  Due to the different extraction temperatures (the Capresso is closer to 86C), the two samples have unique flavor notes.  [I sound like a broken record, but] without a blind taste test, I can’t honestly tell you my preference.  However, this result was enough to convince me that the Sonicprep does have the potential for novel applications with coffee. 

In Conclusion…

I get really excited every time I hear about a new piece of culinary technology.  In this case, as with most of the other tools in my kitchen, the technology itself isn’t new, but it’s application for food and cooking is just being discovered.  Ultrasonic machines like the Sonicprep have been used in laboratory sciences as “cell disruptors” and marketed as jewelry cleaners to commercial jewelers.  However, they are just beginning to find their place in the kitchen.  I admit that I was a little disappointed by some of the limitations of the  Sonicprep – low volume processing, the fact that it heats liquids as it processes, my metallic oil issue -  but I’m still convinced that there are novel culinary applications for this technology just waiting to be discovered… somebody just has to think them up! 

I’m planning to conduct a series of blind taste tests to gather objective data on the Sonicprep results compared to other methods.  Playing with the device has also turned on several lightbulbs in my head about the way we approach infusion – I now look at my whipping siphon, vacuum chamber and pressure cooker in a different way than I did before.  But, when someone does figure out the truly revolutionary use for high-amplitude ultrasound in the kitchen, we’ll wonder how we ever lived without it. 

Jethro and I were asked to create a dish with “wow factor” for a group of scientists for an upcoming event.  We wanted to craft a bite that’s first and foremost delicious, but also illustrates some of the hallmarks of modernist cooking: textural transformation, surprise, and use of unconventional techniques to refine and reinterpret something traditional.  It also had to be practical and economical, since we’ll be serving nearly 200 people in two hours.  This meant quick plating time, low portion cost, and minimal prep.  After some brainstorming, we decided that a cryopoached (liquid nitrogen-frozen) puff would fit the bill.  Jethro had already made the Fat Duck’s Cryopoached Green Tea Sour (which I recognized from Modernist Cuisine), but we wanted to make a version that was our own, and frankly, one that was simpler and cheaper.

I knew from prior experience that coconut milk foams nicely through a whipping siphon – I use it as a garnish for MC’s caramelized carrot soup.  Jeth and I came up with a list of complimentary flavors, including licorice and lime.  We combined coconut milk with a shot of absinthe, which made a delicious puff.  However, the strong licorice flavor of absinthe turns a lot of folks off, so we decided it wouldn’t be a crowd pleaser.  But coconut and lime?  Who wouldn’t love that.  And, for a little color and flavor contrast, we dusted the tops with ground, freeze-dried strawberries.  

When cryopoached properly, the “meringue” has a crunchy exterior shell that gives way to a light, foamy interior.  But, within a second of being in your mouth, the whole thing melts into liquid – the sensation all but forces a smile!  We got the best textural results when we poached the meringues for 20 seconds, flipping once, then letting it rest 10 seconds before eating.

Makes: a lot
Total kitchen time: 20 minutes
Special equipment required: liquid nitrogen, whipping siphon

Also, an important safety note: DON’T LICK THE SPOON!  Any metal or dense materials that come in contact with the liquid nitrogen will get cold and stay cold – cold enough to burn your skin and freeze your tongue like a flagpole in a snowstorm.  As a gentleman and a friend, I’m choosing not to post the picture of Jethro’s “lesson” in thermodynamics, but let’s just say that the spoon now has more taste buds than he does. 

*Thanks to Mr. Eric Rivera for the carrageenan tip!

But, if the idea of roasting a goose gives you anxious visions of forgotten kitchen timers and smoking ovens, let me assure you that there’s a better way.  Just like a turkey or a duck or a chicken, a goose is a great candidate for sous vide cooking.  I started with a whole goose, which I carved into four pieces: two breasts and two legs.  I packed each piece in a vacuum bag with salt, aromatics and fat, then cooked sous vide.  Just before serving, I shallow-fried each of the pieces to brown and crisp the skin.  In reality, I treated the goose just like I was cooking duck confit, sous vide style.  This was phenomenally easy, risk-free and wonderfully delicious.

Many thanks to Whole Foods for providing a complimentary whole goose for the development of this recipe.

Shopping list:

• 1 whole goose, thawed
• 40g kosher salt
• 35g juniper berries
• 65g light brown sugar
• 10g fresh rosemary sprigs
• 1g cinnamon stick, microplaned (or ground cinnamon)
• 150g rendered duck fat
• Canola oil, for frying

1. Rinse the goose thoroughly and remove the neck from the interior of the body.  Reserve the neck for another use.
2. Remove the legs and thighs.  With the goose breast-side-up, grab the end of the drumstick and pull the leg outward from the body of the goose.  Cut through the skin underneath the rib cage as you pull the leg away.  Flip the goose over and fold the leg away from the body until the “hip” joint is visible.  Run your knife through the hip joint to free the leg and thigh.  Trim away excess fat and skin, leaving enough to cover the meat.  Repeat for the other leg.
3. Remove the breasts by making an incision through the skin of the breastbone.  Allow your knife to follow the contour of the rub cage on one side and peel the breast away as you cut .  Trim away excess fat and skin.  You may save the fat, carcass and wings for another use, such as a pressure-cooked goose stock.
4. Combine the salt, juniper berries, brown sugar, rosemary and cinnamon in a large bowl.  Mix to combine, gently crushing the aromatics to release their oils.  Toss each goose piece in the salt mixture until well-coated.
5. Divide the duck fat among four vacuum bags (or two, one for breasts, one for legs).  Place the goose pieces in their respective bags and toss in any juniper berries and rosemary that may have been left behind.  Vacuum seal on high.  Refrigerate overnight.
6. Preheat a sous vide bath to 62C.  Add the goose legs and cook for 18 hours.  If you’re not serving the goose immediately, remove the bag and chill in an ice bath.  Refrigerate until ready to serve.
7. Preheat a sous vide bath to 54C.  Add the goose breasts and cook for 6 hours.  If you’re not serving the goose immediately, remove the bag and chill in an ice bath. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
   Note: If you have two sous vide baths, you can perform the previous two steps simultaneously. If you only have one sous vide bath and don’t want to wait quite as long, you can turn the temperature down from 62C to 54C after 12 hours and add the breasts to the same bath as the legs. The legs won’t turn out quite as flaky, but they’ll still be delicious.
8. Heat a large pot of canola oil 1/2” deep to 400F.  Remove the goose from the vacuum bags and wipe off any juniper berries or rosemary that may be clinging to the skin.  The meat will be wet from the duck fat, but that’s OK for frying.
9. Working one piece at a time, fry the legs skin-side-down for about 1 minute or until golden brown.  Flip and fry for an additional minute skin-side-up.
10. Fry the breasts, skin-side-down only, for about 1 minute or until the skin is golden brown.
11. Slice as desired and serve immediately.

As you’ll notice in the picture above, geese have a hefty layer of fat underneath their skin.  This helps them stay buoyant and warm, and I personally enjoy eating the fatty exterior, which is made soft and delectable by the long cooking time.  However, if you want to reduce the fat layer and you have a little extra time on your hands, before step 4, remove the skin from each piece of goose.  Using the back of your knife, scrape the fat away from the underside of the skin.  Dust the skin with Activa RM (transglutaminase; meat glue) and place it back on the meat before vacuum sealing.  It’s a little trick I learned from Modernist Cuisine, which has quite a lot to say about cooking tough and tender meat sous vide.

I’m over­joyed to announce that, start­ing in January, I’ll be join­ing the Modernist Cuisine team full-time as the Business Development Manager… and Modernist Cuisine Evangelist! If you’ve been fol­low­ing the blog (or if you’ve ever had a 5-minute con­ver­sa­tion with me) you know that I’ve been a huge fan of Modernist Cuisine since I first heard about the project. From my first inter­view with Nathan Myhrvold in May, 2010 to my recent expe­ri­ence of intern­ing with the kitchen team, it has been my dream to join this team. Now, I’ll have the tremen­dous plea­sure of help­ing Modernist Cuisine grow in new and excit­ing ways, and spread our mes­sage to a much broader audience.

We are for­tu­nate to be wit­ness­ing a world­wide, culi­nary rev­o­lu­tion. Much like Escoffier’s Le Guide Culinaire for­ever changed cook­ing in the early twen­ti­eth cen­tury, Modernist Cuisine enables con­tem­po­rary ideas, tools and cook­ing tech­niques to spread more widely than any other book before it. In fact, I’ve been infa­mously quoted as say­ing “Escoffier would crap his pants…” at the sight of the five gor­geous, com­pre­hen­sive vol­umes. However, with the U.S. book launch com­pleted and for­eign edi­tions now broadly avail­able, our work is far from done.

More than ever, we are excited about the huge poten­tial we see in the road ahead. We’ll be explor­ing ways for The Cooking Lab to con­tribute to the Modernist rev­o­lu­tion, not only through our books but also through new ser­vices and prod­ucts that we hope to develop our­selves and in col­lab­o­ra­tion with a wide range of other com­pa­nies, from food and equip­ment man­u­fac­tur­ers to chefs and restau­rant own­ers, to pub­lish­ers and pro­duc­ers. We’ve got a list of great ideas to turn into real­i­ties, but we also want to know what you’d like to see from us. If you have an idea, a request, or a part­ner­ship oppor­tu­nity, we’d love to hear your thoughts. Contact us online or email scott@modernistcuisine.com.

I’m incred­i­bly excited about the future of Modernist Cuisine, and I’m hon­ored by the priv­i­lege of help­ing to shape it!

After much ogling, I finally took the plunge and purchased a VacMaster chamber vacuum sealer when I caught an irresistible deal for an older model on Craigslist.  I had known for a while that my FoodSaver was woefully inadequate at sealing wet foods for sous vide, but after witnessing how much of a workhorse the chamber sealer is at the Modernist Cuisine lab, I knew it was an essential missing piece of gear for my own kitchen.  These are the results of my first real experimentation with the chamber vacuum sealer: “quick pickling.”

A chamber sealer pulls a much stronger vacuum than a FoodSaver – so strong, in fact, that it will boil water at room temperature.  When you apply this ultra-strong vacuum pressure to plant foods, you can physically change their cell structure in a way that causes the foods to quickly absorb  liquids that surround them.  Modernist Cuisine explains the phenomenon best:

The cells of plant tissue contain pockets of air and water called vacuoles.  As the outside pressure decreases during vacuum sealing, these vacuoles act like balloons rising up through the atmosphere, and like balloons they eventually pop.  The popped vacuoles cannot reinflate[…] so they collapse under the weight of atmospheric pressure as soon as the sealing chamber is opened.[…]
Incidentally, this phenomenon also is the reason that infusing liquids into fruits or vegetables under vacuum compression works so well.  Once the vacuoles rupture, they quickly fill with any surrounding liquid.

So, I set out to exploit this phenomenon with a bunch of different plant foods.  Here are the results.

Tomatoes

The image at the top of this post shows the outcome of my tomato experiments.  On the left is a raw tomato, sliced 3mm thick.  In the middle is a tomato infused with olive oil.  On the right is a tomato infused with olive oil and balsamic vinegar.  Since the oil replaces much of the water in the tomato slice, you can safely top these tomatoes with salt without the salt melting, which is a neat trick.

The image just above shows a macro shot of the oil and balsamic tomato slice.  You can actually see the expanded vacuoles, which are now filled with oil.  As the pressure in the vacuum chamber dropped, the tomatoes boiled vigorously in the olive oil – they actually looked like they were being deep-fried, but at room temperature.  I think there’s more to explore here…

Cucumber

[Raw on the left, infused on the right].  These are classic pickles.  I infused 3mm cucumber slices in a brine of rice wine vinegar, sugar, salt, water, coriander seed, black peppercorn and fresh dill.  Because the cell walls are collapsed, these pickles don’t quite have the same “snap” as traditional pickles, but they were still excellent.  Having total control over the flavor of the brine and being able to make pickles in less than 60 seconds more than makes up for the difference in mouthfeel.

Quince

[Raw on the left, infused on the right].  Because the quince was so firm, I sliced it to 3/4mm on the mandoline.  I pickled the slices with Noble Tonic No. 4 and thyme.  Although they are quite acidic as a standalone snack, they’d make a fantastic garnish for something fatty, like a slab of pork belly or a chunk of tuna.  They’re also much more attractive when they turn translucent.

Jicama

[Raw on the left, infused middle and right].  Much to my surprise, the jicama didn’t compress much or turn translucent.  However, it did do a fantastic job taking on surrounding flavors.  My first test was Sriracha and light coconut milk.  This worked like a charm – the liquid was quite thick, but even after I rinsed the jicama, the flavors remained.  The second test was a brine of apple cider and fennel seed.  This has the potential to become a fantastic slaw.  Although I was happy with the flavors, I didn’t compare the results of the vacuum compression to simply soaking jicama in these liquids, so I can’t say for sure that vacuum did any magic here.

Turnip

[Raw on the left, infused on the right]. This was one of the most promising results – I infused 3/4mm sliced raw turnip with Nobile Tonic No. 1 Maple Syrup.  In fairness, I could lick that maple syrup off a cast iron griddle and still love it.  However, the sweetness of the syrup added a wonderful complexity to the bitter, spicy finish of raw turnip.  I could see these infused turnip sheets used as a wrapper for a filling, or perhaps deep fried into chips.

I’m very excited about the results of this first round of testing, and I look forward to more experimentation with the chamber sealer.

Although I don’t consider myself Jewish, I did grow up in a household that observed the major Jewish holidays like Passover, Yom Kippur, and of course, Hanukkah.  One of my favorite memories of celebrating Hanukkah is the tradition of eating latkes with sour cream and apple sauce.  For the gentiles out there, latkes are potato pancakes, made from shredded potato and onion.  In fact, latkes are pretty simple to make, which is why I wanted to take on the challenge of making them better.  To me, a latke should have an awesomely crunchy outside and a creamy inside.  So, I started experimenting with ways to get the ultimate potato crunch. 

My instinct was that the key to crunchier latkes was adding starch to the potato.  I cooked three variations: a control (no added starch, top), a latke sprinkled with potato starch (right), and a latke coated with butter-flavored instant mashed potato flakes (bottom).  To keep the experiment rigorous, I packed the same quantity of potato mixture into a ring mold and fried the latkes for the same time at the same temperature.  The instant potato flake latke was the clear winner – the dried starch added extra surface area for frying and made the potato wonderfully crunchy.  Unfortunately, much of the potato flake broke off during frying, which clouded the oil.  With some good advice from Maxime Bilet, I altered my method to avoid this problem.  I ended up with fantastically crispy latkes, which I wouldn’t mind eating for eight consecutive nights this year.

Makes: 12 crispy latkes
Total kitchen time: 1 hour

Shopping list:

• 1 tsp. lemon juice
• 4 russet potatos
• 1/2 yellow onion
• 1 waxy potato
• 1 egg
• salt
• freshly ground pepper
• 100g (about 5 tbsp.) instant masked potato flakes, butter flavor
• peanut oil, for frying
• sour cream & apple sauce for garnish. 

1. I recommend using the grater attachment on a food processor to make quick work of this task.  If using a food processor, add lemon juice to the bowl.  If grating by hand, add lemon juice to the bowl that will contain your grated potatoes.
2. Peel and grate the potato, tossing occasionally to coat with the lemon juice.  Reserve 2/3 of the grated potato mixture in a separate bowl to become the exterior coating. 
3. Grate the onion.  Combine the remaining 1/3 grated potato and grated onion in a medium pot.  Add water to cover and bring to a boil.  Remove from heat and strain to remove most of the water.  Season with .05% salt and .005% pepper. 
4. Peel and microplane the waxy potato into the bowl with the reserved 2/3s grated potato mixture.  Pour the mixture into a large cheesecloth and ring as tightly as possible to remove as much water as you can.  Return the mixture to a bowl.
5. Add 1 egg, .05% salt, .005% pepper and instant mashed potato flakes to the bowl and toss well to combine.
6. Heat 1” of peanut oil in a deep skillet to 400F. 
7. While the oil is heating, assemble the latkes on a nonstick baking sheet.  Grab a small handful of the uncooked potato mixture and press into a disk, one layer thick.  Top with a tablespoon of the cooked potato and onion mixture, spread evenly.  Finish with another later of the uncooked potato mixture. 
8. Fry the latkes a few at a time, being sure not to overcrowd the pan.  Flip once if necessary to ensure even browning on all sides.  The latkes should cook for 2-3 minutes, or until dark and golden.  It’s critical that you keep the temperature of the oil at 400F before and during frying to ensure maximum browning – if necessary, momentarily remove the latkes to allow the oil temperature to come back to 400F. 
9. Drain on paper towels, and serve alongside sour cream and applesauce.

I’ve assembled a list of must-have cooking gear, kitchen toys, and foodie fetishes for 2011.  If you have a food geek in your life and you’re looking for gift inspiration, I’m here to help.  They say “‘tis better to give,” but ‘tis best to give to someone who’ll cook you dinner in return!

	Bob Kramer 10" Carbon Steel Chef’s Knife by Zwilling J.A. Henckels® Say hello to the “it knife” of 2011. Bob Kramer is the only Master Bladesmith in the world who specializes in culinary knifes, and his rare, hand-made blades sell for thousands of dollars.  (see my post on touring Bob Kramer’s workshop.)  Now, he’s produced a line of exceptional quality carbon steel cutlery that conforms to his exacting standards, but is affordable enough for the home chef.  $349.95 – Sur La Table $349.95 – Amazon.com
	Skillet Bacon Jam Seattle residents are already familiar with the spreadable jar of heaven known as “Bacon Jam”.  Produced by the same Skillet group that brought us the Skillet Street Food truck and the Skillet Diner,  the jam is a mixture of rendered bacon and spices that adds a succulent kick to sandwiches, burgers, omelets, Ritz crackers, or any other bacon-submissive food.  Makes a great stocking stuffer – just hope you can fit into your stockings after you’ve plowed through a jar. $15.95 – Amazon.com
	Rouxbe Cooking School In this day and age, anything that’s worth doing is worth doing online – learning to cook is no exception.  Rouxbe is the world’s leading online cooking school that teaches people of all levels to become better, more confident cooks.  Focused on techniques, not recipes, Rouxbe offers over 1,100 close-up instructional videos that capture the exact same curriculum found in professional cooking schools around the world. $23.00/month (other packages available) – Rouxbe.com
	SousVide Supreme Any serious food geek cooks sous vide.  And those who don’t?  Well, they’re waiting for you to buy them a sous vide machine… that is, if you’re not up for building one yourself.  By far, the easiest way to get started with sous vide cooking is the SousVide Supreme line of water ovens.  Their machines are available in multiple sizes and colors and they’re currently running some fantastic deals for the holidays, including a Modernist Cuisine gift set! $299 and up – SousVideSupreme.com
	VacMaster Chamber Vacuum Sealer Whether you’re cooking sous vide or tackling a whole slew of other modernist techniques, a vacuum sealer is an absolute necessity.  FoodSaver-style sealers work fine for dry foods, but for wet foods like meat and fish or liquids of any kind, you need a chamber sealer.  Unlike an edge sealer, which sucks all of the air out of the bag from one edge, the VacMaster removes the air from the entire chamber, then seals the bag.  When the vacuum is released, the pressure of the atmosphere compresses the bag against its contents for a fool-proof, air-free seal with no messy liquid sucked from the edge of the bag.  $799 – SousVideSupreme.com $824 – Amazon.com
	Excalibur 3500 Deluxe Series 5 Tray Food Dehydrator If you thought dehydrators were just for jerky and fruit snacks, you’re missing a whole world of possible applications for dried foods.  For example, why not whip up some Shrimp in Cocktail Leather for your next dinner party?  The Excalibur dehydrator is the brand trusted by chefs everywhere.  The rectangular drying trays provide 8 square feet of drying space, and the 85º – 145ºF thermostat let’s you dehydrate everything from soup to nuts (and yes, jerky too)! $189.95 – Amazon.com
	Presto 1755 16-Quart Aluminum Pressure Cooker/Canner For some reason, lots of folks think of pressure cookers as “your grandmother’s kitchen gadget”.  And, while it’s true that grannie may have reached for her pressure cooker as a way to save time in the kitchen, their usefulness extends well beyond expediency.  Pressure cookers are fantastic for extracting flavors, for example, when making stocks and sauces.  When coupled with a little baking soda, they’re also key to making the best vegetable soups I’ve ever tasted.  I’d recommend purchasing a pressure canner rather than just a pressure cooker.  The difference is the inclusion of a pressure gauge which allows you to can many foods that you couldn’t otherwise safely preserve. $71.99 – Amazon.com
	Noble Tonics: Handcrafted Matured Maple Syrups & Vinegars This is my new favorite breakfast condiment: Tahitian Vanilla Bean & Egyptian Chomomile Blossom Matured Maple Syrup.  Just speaking its name evokes images of meticulous artisans patiently watching over these syrups as they mature in charred American oak barrels. It is to maple syrup what Château d’Yquem is to wine.  The complete line includes two maple syrups, a sherry bourbon oak vinegar, an heirloom lemon matured white wine vinegar, and XO, a viscous, rich “finishing vinegar”.  $22.95 – $69.95 – MikuniWildHarvest.com Disclosure: I received a free sample of Noble Tonic products.
	Eleven Madison Park: The Cookbook Although this cookbook was only released a few weeks ago, it’s already one of the most talked-about cookbooks of the year.  And rightfully so – this book is so much more than a cookbook; it is a window into the soul of Eleven Madison Park.  Featuring breathtaking photography and over 125 sophisticated recipes, this will be one of the [very few] cookbooks I reference on a regular basis, both for inspiration and for technique.  $31.50 [hardcover] – Amazon.com
	Momofuku Milk Bar Imagine an incredible collection of desserts that all seem like they were designed by stoners with phenomenal pastry skills.  That would, more or less, be Monofuku Milk Bar.  Written by pastry chef Christina Tosi, the book includes an entire section on cereal milk ice creams.  Other notable dishes include the infamous “crack pie”, “compost cookie”, and “gutter sundae” (directions: Go to the hardware store.  Buy a gutter.  Invite your friends and family over.  Make a gutter sundae to celebrate).  Yet, somehow, the whole thing is irresistible! $20.18 – Amazon.com
	Lucky Peach This has been a great year for chef David Chang and his ever-expanding influence.  Case in point: Lucky Peach.  In an era when print publishing is dying a very public death, Chang had the chutzpah to start his own food journal.  Issue Two’s theme is "The Sweet Spot," and will feature Rene Redzepi on vintage vegetables, Tajikistani apricots with Adam Gollner, a visit to Callaway Golf and Louisville Slugger, time-sensitive fermentation, banana pie with Momofuku Milk Bar chef Christina Tosi, and much, much more. $9.50/issue – Amazon.com
	Top Pot Hand-Forged Doughnuts: Secrets and Recipes for the Home Baker Top Pot Doughnuts are a treasured part of Seattle’s edible landscape.  Let it be said that no other doughnut pairs as well with a nonfat, fair trade, soy, double, vanilla cappuccino.  Committed bakers, casual home cooks, and sweet-toothed fans will eat up these 50 tried-and-true recipes from classic Old-Fashioneds to the signature Pink Feather Boa and become experts themselves after learning the secrets of doughnut-making tools, terms, and techniques (no, you don t need a deep fryer). $10.98 – Amazon.com
	Modernist Cuisine: The Art and Science of Cooking If you’re searching for a food geek gift that will make all others pale in comparison, look no further.  For the price of a stand mixer and a handful of tasteful stocking stuffers, you can give the gift that will keep your food geek cooking for a lifetime.  I’ve already written quite a bit about Modernist Cuisine, but for the first time ever, you can wrap it in a bow and put it under the tree.  Nothing says “Merry Christmas” like a 40 lb. cookbook! $450.84 – Amazon.com
	iSi Professional Food & Cream Gourmet Whipper Thanks to Ferran Adria and others, the term “culinary foam” now means more than whipped cream.  If you’re interested in experimenting with foam-at-home, you’ll need to own a whipping siphon.  A now-essential part of both sweet and savory preparations, whipping siphons are also great for quick infusions and making carbonated snacks.  Unlike cheaper siphons, this model is designed to handle more viscous liquids commonly called for in modernist preparations. $138.99 – Amazon.com iSi N20 Cream Chargers, 24-Pack: $15.75 – Amazon.com
	Krups 203 Electric Coffee and Spice Grinder with Stainless-Steel blades Textural transformations are a hallmark of modernist cooking, and powders play in important role in achieving the correct mouthfeel and presentation of many dishes.  If you’ve ever attempted to turn a solid into a powder using a blender or food processor, you’ll understand why it’s important to have the right tool for the job.  This spice grinder is compact, inexpensive and incredibly efficient at making very fine powders in a matter of seconds. $19.00 – Amazon.com
	Canon EOS 5D Mark II with EF 24-105mm f/4 L IS USM Lens Modern food-enthusiasts (see how hard I tried not to use the word “foodie”?) never travel without a camera in-hand.  But, approaching your plate of foie gras and truffles with a cell phone camera is as gauche as wearing a sport coat and shorts just to spite the dress code.  If you or the food geek in your life are ready to get serious about food photography, there’s currently no better value than the iconic Canon 5D Mark II.  It shoots 21MP stills and broadcast-quality video, all for less than a bottle of Chateau Margaux.  $3,019.98 – Amazon.com
	Nikon 1 J1 10.1 MP HD Digital Camera System with 10-30mm VR 1 NIKKOR Lens So, you’ve realized that you want to improve your food photography, but you don’t want to lug a giant (and conspicuous) DSLR to every restaurant you visit.  Nikon’s “1” line is a brand new imaging system that’s designed to be highly portable and highly performant.  Featuring interchangeable lenses, a high-speed sensor for great low-light shooting, and the ability to snap stills while you’re shooting 1080p HD video, this is a great camera for the fooderazzi.  $599.00 – Amazon.com

Happy Holidays,

Scott

Man, o man do I love butternut squash, acorn squash, spaghetti squash, delicata squash… you get the point.  When I was young, one of my favorite side dishes at family dinners was an acorn squash, halved, filled with butter and brown sugar, and roasted until soft and sweet.  It tasted like candy, but technically qualified as a vegetable – a loophole that I still enjoy exploiting.

During my recent, steamy love affair with my pressure cooker, I’ve discovered that it does fantastic things to squash.  For example, last week, Jethro served THE BEST butternut squash soup I’ve ever eaten – pressure cooked, of course.  There are two fundamental benefits to pressure cooking, as opposed to roasting, squash:

1. Speed.  Fork-tender squash takes 15-20 minutes in the pressure cooker, rather than 30-45 minutes in the oven.
2. All-Over Tan.  Put another way, the pressure cooker achieves deep, even browning on all surfaces, with a significantly reduced risk of burning.  Let’s explore that more…

One of the best tricks I’ve learned from Modernist Cuisine is that adding 0.5% baking soda (by weight) to things you’re about to pressure cook results in fantastic caramelization.  The baking soda increases the pH of the food, which allows the Maillard reaction to take place at the the relatively low-temperature environment of the pressure cooker – typical Maillard reactions start around 310F, but a pressure cooker operating at 15 psi only reaches about 250F.  That means that you get deliciously-sweet, browned squash without running the risk of accidentally scorching your squash.

Also, pressure cookers brown more evenly than ovens.  Think of your oven like a cheap tanning bed, with lights above and below the subject (in this case, food).  The top and bottom of the food is exposed to a lot of light and gets nicely tanned.  The sides, however, remain pasty-white because they’re mostly in shadow. The environment inside a pressure cooker, however, is more akin to bathing in a pool of self-tanner.  The heat and pressure generated by the steam come from all sides, and as a result, your cubes of squash are beautifully browned from every angle, not just the top and bottom.

If you’re ready to drink the Kool-Aid, here are some pressure cooked squash recipes to get you started.

Basic Pressure Cooked Squash Recipe

1. Remove the skin and seeds from your squash and cut into evenly-sized 1” cubes.
2. Add 1/2 cup of liquid to your pressure cooker.  I recommend centrifuged squash water (thanks Jethro!), chicken stock, or other flavorful liquid.  Water works fine, too.
3. Toss your cubed squash in .5% its own weight in baking soda.  You can eyeball this measurement – about 1/2 tsp. of baking soda for 2 lbs. of squash.  Add the squash to the pressure cooker.
4. Pressure cook for 20 minutes.  Remove and season to taste.

Pressure Cooked Squash Soup Recipe

1. Follow steps 1-3 above.  For extra richness, add butter or duck fat to the cooking liquid.
2. Check after 20 minutes.  Pressure cook an additional 10-20 minutes if the squash isn’t tender enough to fall apart yet (cooking time will vary by species).
3. Using an immersion blender, puree the squash until smooth, adding additional liquid to reach the desired consistency.
4. Season to taste with salt, pepper, cinnamon, cloves, roasted garlic, nutmeg, maple syrup, brown sugar, balsamic vinegar, apple cider, tarragon, ginger, or whatever else suits your fancy.

Go wild with variations.  Add other stuff like apples or canned pumpkin or bell peppers or carrots or leeks.  I promise it’ll be good.

[BTW, the picture above is an acorn squash, uncooked.]

Ah, chicken & waffles.  Having grown up in Los Angeles, I’ve made a few late-night pilgrimages to the famed Roscoe’s House of Chicken’n Waffles, and every now and then, I get a craving for crispy fried chicken alongside a lightly toasted waffle.  But other times, my desires are a little more unsavory (pun intended). So, in a recent [epic] Jet City Gastrophysics jam session, we came up with the above: waffle-flavored ice cream served in a crispy chicken skin cup, with maple syrup. 

The first step is to make a neutral ice cream base infused it with waffle flavor. Jethro took on the challenge and nailed it.  He used a standard ice cream recipe (6 egg yolks, heavy cream, sugar, ice cream machine, etc) except for three variations:

1. He toasted up 6 Eggo waffles and soaked them in the milk after it had been brought to a simmer.  After 30 minutes he pressed the milk/waffle goop through a sieve.
2. He replaced half the required amount of sugar with maple syrup.
3. For good measure he threw in a chunk of butter to give it that waffle flavor.

Next, we needed to make a chicken skin cup.  So, I skinned a chicken (it was already dead).  We thought that an intact chicken skin was fun to play with, so we gave it some time in the spotlight, as you can see on the left.  With a little Activia, we could have done a Silence of the Lambs dish (it puts the Hoisin on the skin, or else it gets the hose again!) but we decided that we’re probably on enough FBI watch lists already. 

I removed as much of the fat as I could from the inside of the skin, making sure not to accidentally create any holes.  Using a 4” biscuit cutter as a guide, I removed a circle of skin to eventually form our cup. 

With the waffle cone maker preheated, I crisped the skin until it was golden brown, but still slightly pliable.  I immediately placed the disk on top of an inverted stainless steel condiment cup, then pressed another cup down against the skin to form it into a bowl shape.  We waited for the skin to cool down, and lo and behold, it held its form.

One scoop of ice cream and some really excellent maple syrup later, we had an incredibly satisfying dessert that tastes exactly like chicken and waffles.  Unfortunately, it was a little unwieldy to eat in that form factor – the cup was too big to take in one bite, but not quite brittle enough to shatter at the tap of a spoon.  So, we (including Eric, via Skype) brainstormed an alternate presentation. 

We decided that the dish would be easier to eat as a single bite served on a waffled chicken skin wafer.  Eric actually suggested making a coronet from the chicken skin and serving the dish as a miniature ice cream cone, but we were feeling impatient.  So, I fried another piece of skin and broke it into shards.  We also garnished the dish with espresso powder, as it seemed a fitting compliment to the breakfasty flavor of the waffle ice cream. 

Ultimately, we determined that the best presentation of this dish would be to cast the ice cream into a miniature waffle mold, served on a waffled chicken skin wafer, topped with maple syrup and perhaps even a miniature dollop of espresso whipped cream.  We’ll save that for round 2.

As you may know, one hallmark of the photography in Modernist Cuisine is their use of cutaway photos that show what’s happening inside your food – and cookware – as you cook.  Since I plan on (eventually) trying to recreate all of the recipes in the  book, I thought it might be prudent to recreate those cutaway shots, too.  Unlike the MC lab, however, I don’t have a waterjet. 

Enter the fantastic folks at Flow International Corporation.  They happened to catch my half-joking tweet asking if anyone had a waterjet I could borrow, and as it turns out, they do.  In fact, Flow manufactures waterjet machines and invited me to visit them at their headquarters in Kent, WA.  When I arrived, they led me – and my box of fully intact cookware – into their demonstration room, an enormous space punctuated by a handful of monstrous waterjets machines. 

Under normal circumstances, they’d load a 3D model of the object we were cutting and the cutting nozzle would follow an exact path through the object.  However, since I just wanted my pans cut “in twain” the operator switched  the machine into manual mode and piloted the cutting head across the surface of the pan like a Jedi.  The video below shows the cutting process. 

Water and abrasive grit forced at 87,000 psi through an opening the size of a human hair is powerful. And, it doesn’t discriminate – it’ll cut paper, tile, glass, stone, metals (including titanium) and just about anything else that gets in its path. As it turns out, water jets are also commonly used for cutting food products.  Since the water jet doesn’t generate much heat as it cuts, it’s perfect for portioning frozen meat and fish or slicing a sheet of nougat into individual candy bars.  Of course, now I totally want one of these machines for home.  Cutting the crust off a loaf of Wonderbread would never be the same again.

The image at the top shows one of my new half-skillets and depicts the problem with cooking a thick steak on a hot surface (see those gray bands of well-done?).  Now I can do my very own cutaway shots, just like the big boys

Huge thanks to the fantastic folks at Flow for helping me out!

I’m very happy to announce my first food photography print available for purchase.  This image is an arrangement of 61 different microgreens, micro vegetables, edible flowers, herbs and mixes. 

The original image is over 60 megapixels – I went to great lengths to capture all of the ingredients in high resolution.  The shot below shows a zoomed-in view of mint apple leaves, found in the bottom center of the poster. 

If you’re interested in purchasing a print of this image, I’ve made it available for custom printing through Zazzle.  If you’re interested in licensing the entire collage, or each of the ingredients separately, please contact me at scott@seattlefoodgeek.com.

In case you’re curious, the image includes: borage blossom, california bay leaf, celery, citrus mix, cronses, cucumber, fennel, firestix mix, garlic, herb flowers mix, herb tops mixture, hibiscus leaf, kale red, lavender, micro amaranth red, micro arugula, micro basil italian, micro borage, micro bull’s blood, micro cabbage, micro cress water, micro cucumber, micro flower blend, micro lemon balm, micro lovage, micro majenta orach, micro marigold, micro merlot mix, micro mint lavender, micro mirepoix mix, micro parsley italian, micro sea beans, micro shungiku, micro southwest mix, micro star flower, micro sun daisy, micro thyme, mint apple, mint lime, mustard green frill, mustard red frill, nasturtium, oyster leaf, pansy, pea green, petite basil italian, petite fava leaf, petite lemon balm, petite spinach lilac, radish mix, red kaiware shoots, sage gold, sage purple, snapdragon, sparkler tops, tangerine lace, tiny carrots, turnip red, turnip, and viola. ]]> http://seattlefoodgeek.com/2011/11/microgreens-print-now-available-for-purchase/feed/ 1 http://seattlefoodgeek.com/2011/10/pumpkin-cotton-candy-jack-o-lantern/ http://seattlefoodgeek.com/2011/10/pumpkin-cotton-candy-jack-o-lantern/#comments Mon, 31 Oct 2011 20:00:00 +0000 scott http://seattlefoodgeek.com/2011/10/pumpkin-cotton-candy-jack-o-lantern/

This is effin cool.  We centrifuged a can of pumpkin to yield a few tablespoons of a clear, orange pumpkin-flavored liquid.  We saturated it with sugar and spiked it with pumpkin pie spice, then heated the mixture to 300F and cast it into hard caramel molds.  Then, we spun the hard caramel in a cotton candy machine to make 2” puffs of pumpkin-flavored cotton candy.  Then, we squeezed the puffs into the shape of a skull and cut out triangles for the eyes and nose.  Finally, we put it on a stand with a candle behind it.  Presenting the pumpkin cotton candy jack-o-lantern, as interpreted by Jet City Gastrophysics.

Happy Halloween!

We had friends over for brunch last weekend, so I pulled out an old standby: brioche with a 64°C egg, maple syrup, pancetta and pea butter.  It’s my version of French toast, you know, because of the toast part.  I’m not trying to sound snooty when I say this is “as simple as can be” because you do need a sous vide machine and a centrifuge to make it.  However, provided you have those tools, the recipe brain-dead easy.  When I was growing up, we used to go for brunch at a diner that made “sweet pea guacamole” served alongside a Tex-Mex omelet.  I loved the notion of having peas with breakfast, and once I discovered centrifuged pea butter, that was even more reason to work it into the dish.  I’m sure there’s a “green eggs and ham” permutation of these ingredients, too; if you find it, please share.

Total kitchen time: 10 minutes + 3 hours centrifuge time + 1 hour sous vide time
Makes: 4 servings

1. Make pea butter by blending 4lbs of thawed peas until smooth, then centrifuging at 1500 RPMs for 2-3 hours. 
2. Cook 4 eggs sous vide at 64°C for one hour.
3. Meanwhile. cut 4 slices of brioche, about 1” thick.  Toast on a flat-top grill with copious amounts of melted butter.
4. Fry up 8-12 slices of pancetta.  Pro tip: frying pancetta in a waffle cone maker keeps it from curling up.

To assemble, top the toasted brioche with an egg. Pour over pea butter and warmed maple syrup.  Finish with slices of fried pancetta. 

[Thanks to the Estevez family and my wife Rachel for helping me make a mess in the photo above]

This idea was inspired by a post I recently ran across on The Novice Chef that showed an egg cooked in a waffle iron.  I thought that as pretty clever, so I ripped it off.  However, I don’t have a waffle iron.  I only have a waffle cone iron, which is great for making (duh) waffle cones, tuile, and other thin, ridged treats.  I heated the iron to about 250F (checking the surface temp with my infrared thermometer), then unplugged it.  These irons get so hot that, at full temperature, they’ll quickly scorch the eggs and you’re left with a flaky mess.  I separated the yolk and white of one egg and cooked them individually.  You are free to cook the yolk however you like – poach it, put it in a hemisphere mold and cook it in a combi-oven, cook sous vide in a bag, fry it, etc. 

Now I’m going to make a logical leap to try to justify this playful experiment: with a waffled texture, the egg will hold more condiment on its surface.  Butter, syrup, hot sauce, ketchup,  pea butter, balsamic vinegar… they can all hang out in the shallow ponds created by the waffled surface.  But who am I kidding?  This was just fun.

Last week, I gave a talk at Seattle’s 0th ever Nerd Nite!  My talk was titled “Food, Science and Electric Bacon” and was a similar history of Modernist cuisine and explanation of geeky food techniques that I presented at the International Food Bloggers Conference in New Orleans a few weeks back. 

I’ll post the video of my “lecture” when it’s available, but in the meantime, give a listen to this Podcast I recorded with he wonderful folks at Nerd Nite.  Unlike the video, this one’s work-safe. 

 Listen at NerdNite.com or download the MP3.

My good friend and fellow Jet City Gastrophysicist, Eric Rivera, will be leaving Seattle next week to start his new job as Culinary Liaison at Alinea.  This is a big loss for JCG and for Seattle, but we could not be more proud of Eric and his unbelievable trajectory.  Eric and I first met over two years ago when we both frequented the same set of Seattle food blogger events.  I recognized him as the twitchy Puerto Rican guy who talked really fast and blogged 9 times per day.  A few months later, when Jethro got in touch with both of us to start an experimental cooking club, I discovered that Eric would undoubtedly be one of the world’s greatest chefs, one day. 

In past two years, Eric, Jethro and I have created some pretty remarkable dishes and conjured ideas so crazy (and occasionally brilliant) that posting them on the internet would risk blowing your mind forever.  If you don’t already know it, Eric is exactly the right kind of insane to become a revolutionary chef.  Before he had even graduated from culinary school, he was staging at Noma, currently ranked the best restaurant in the world.  At the point in their careers when most grads would be plating house salads, Eric was already Sous Chef at Blueacre.  And, now, only 5 months after graduation, he’s on his way to a coveted position at one of the most respected, forward-thinking restaurants in the world, and we’re ready for him to kick some ass and make Seattle proud.

Go do great things, go learn from the best, and go make it your own.  When you need someone to bounce crazy ideas off of, you know where to find us.

To read more about what Eric will be up to at Alinea, check out the Eater write-up, or his interview in Seattle Weekly. 

Below are a few of Eric’s dishes, which I had the pleasure of photographing over the past few months.

]]> http://seattlefoodgeek.com/2011/10/good-luck-eric-rivera/feed/ 4 http://seattlefoodgeek.com/2011/09/butterfly-shrimp-and-other-fun-with-laser-cut-nori/ http://seattlefoodgeek.com/2011/09/butterfly-shrimp-and-other-fun-with-laser-cut-nori/#comments Fri, 02 Sep 2011 15:00:00 +0000 scott http://seattlefoodgeek.com/2011/09/butterfly-shrimp-and-other-fun-with-laser-cut-nori/

Over a year ago I experimented with laser-cutting nori, the dried seaweed paper used commonly in making rolled sushi.  Because nori is flat, thin and dry, it cuts extremely well with a laser and I was able to get extraordinarily high-resolution cutouts.  Because I didn’t always have access to the laser, I wanted to find a way to keep producing cut nori at home – and I found one.  The QuicKutz Silhouette SD Digital Craft Cutting Tool ($199) is a computer-controlled craft cutter designed for cutting paper and light cardstock.  It works by moving the material backwards and forwards while moving a very sharp blade side to side (and up and down).  Although the nori was too brittle to handle intricate cutting on the Silhouette, I was still able to successfully cut a few dozen different patterns.  If you want to experiment with this technique at home, a craft cutter is the way to go.

The picture at the top is (what I’m calling) Butterfly Shrimp.  It’s wholly impractical, a little ridiculous, and really funny.  I’ve also created an edible butterfly using wasabi as the body, with two wings skewered in. 

The next images are of the most intricate pattern I attempted to laser-cut.  It’s an amalgamation of traditional Japanese stencil designs.  I think of this nori sheet as a kind of edible doily… a garnish that is ornate to the highest degree.  It casts cool shadows, too.

The same sheet, folded on itself.  Wouldn’t that make beautiful sushi? (click for many more photos…)

How about a doily that goes on top of the plate?  I can imagine a server pouring hot broth directly on the seaweed

Below are the pictogram instructions for using chopsticks. I thought it would be fun to laser-etch them onto nori, then wrap them around a sushi roll. It’s a commentary on etiquette, if you’re searching for some deeper meaning.

The next two images are of different types of dried seaweed.  I didn’t cut or etch these pieces, but I thought they looked so beautiful and wonderfully textured that I had to snap photos of them. 

I also thought it would be playfully ironic to put the image of a fork somewhere it doesn’t belong (no, not on your ass.) 

Here’s a shot of uncooked sushi rice.  I had always assumed that rice was pill-shaped, but interestingly each grain has a curved chunk missing at one end.  There’s something that I really love about that shape – it’s kind of tooth like, but also kind of futuristic.  Though, perhaps I’ve just been staring through my lens too long.

I also thought it could be practical to label sushi rolls right on the nori, especially for kaiten (conveyor belt) restaurants.  Unfortunately, as soon as the nori gets wet from the moisture in the rice it becomes very elastic and the letters and shapes distort easily.  It does work pretty well for box/pressed sushi.  In the photos below, I’ve labeled two slabs of tuna.

Here’s the back side of the photo above.  It’s like looking in on the Red Light District of the fisherman’s wharf. 

I do think that there are good applications for laser-cut and laser-etched foods, nori or otherwise.  You may recall that I used this technique to garnish a duck consommé a while back.  Unfortunately, do to the elasticity of damp nori, this technique only works well on dry surfaces, which most sushi preparations are not.  I plan to experiment in the same way with phyllo dough  – my plan is to build a Moroccan-inspired “lampshade” out of a single layer of baked phyllo.  We’ll see how that works out!

A few weeks back, my wife and I booked our stay at the inn, cashing in a Rue La La deal we had purchased a month prior.  The deal included a night’s stay at the Inn at Langley as well as dinner and wine pairing for two at the attached restaurant.  Even from my first call to make our reservations, I could tell that this place exuded the type of warm hospitality that is often absent in the typical passive-aggressive Seattleite interactions.  When we arrived and were shown to our room, we were stunned in disbelief – the “cottage suite” included in our package was a 1400 square foot apartment overlooking the sound, beautifully appointed and peacefully serene.  And, if this were a travel blog, I’d go on and on about the room, the amenities of the inn and the charming little town scattered around it.  But, you’re here for the food, so I’ll get right to it.

Dinner started quite leisurely, just as the sun was falling low in the sky.  We were the first to arrive for the night’s seating, and we were greeted warmly by Stephen McClure, the restaurant’s sommelier.  He handed us each a glass of champagne dotted with basil seeds and we took a seat in the garden as the other guests trickled in.  Sitting in that manicured garden, watching the sunset and sipping champagne, I felt a million miles from home: relaxed, refreshed, civilized, and centered.  It’s a great way to begin any meal.

We were shown to our table which was one of just a handful in the restaurant’s petite dining room.  The room is divided by an oversized stone fireplace, and flanked by tables of two and four laid out around the perimeter.  However, the main focus of the room is

the kitchen, which opens into the space through a countertop-turned-pass where Chef Costello and an assistant finish most of the dishes for service.  Before the meal began, the chef walked us through the evening’s ten+ course menu.  He rattled off the dishes we’d be tasting, but spent most of his time discussing their origins – specifically, the sources of his ingredients.  As he explained, Whidbey Island is a hugely agricultural community.  The island is home to more than ten farmers markets which support not only full-time farmers, but are also popular among pop-up producers.  Say Mr. and Mrs. Jones have a bounty of plums on their back yard tree?  You might just catch them at the market, selling directly to the restaurant. 

Chef Costello described the suppliers for almost every element on the menu – not only meat and seafood (which, by the way, is harvested just out the back door), but also for coffee, raspberries, radishes, milk, onions, and nearly every other once-living thing stashed away in the kitchen.  This was impressive, not because of the level of detail in his list, but because the way he spoke of each supplier conveyed that he had a meaningful relationship with them and viewed their work as being just as important a contribution to the meal as his own. Even with the proliferation of Portlandia-esque connections between Seattle chefs and farmers, this level of reverence and respect is a rarity.  Just as rare, each seat was pre-set with a hand made place card, drawn in a charming lowercase design that underscored the level of personal attention that was given to each quest.

Dinner started with an eye-opening bang: gelled, Manhattan-filled cherries and savory mini-meringues.  This was my first indication that the meal was going to incorporate modernist technique, and it was a bit of a shock considering the small, old-school-looking kitchen from which the chef was working.  There were no (visible) sous vide baths humming, there were no centrifuges spinning, there were no brigades of sous chefs and stages running the line… hell, there wasn’t even a line!  It was just Chef Costello and one assistant pulling course after course out from behind the counter and quickly plating 30 dishes before they were swept away by the servers. 

The next course, another amuse, was billed as “really cold salmon mousse”, but was actually a cryo-shattered salmon mousse served with salmon roe on delicate wooden spoons.  The frozen mousse started out cold and crunchy, but quickly melted to a decadent and creamy consistency, balanced by the salty tenderness of the roe.  The bite was so pleasing that I smiled one of those mid-chew smiles that violates dining room etiquette but just cannot be helped.

The next course was a freshly-baked pretzel roll served with locally produced goat butter and kohlrabi.  The course was paired with a beer – it was the first time I had seen a beer course on the wine pairing menu, but it worked perfectly.  The roll was soft and sour and studded intensely with giant crystals of salt.  It made me wish the restaurant was one of those “endless breadsticks” places.

Next up was a baked potato consommé with a potato foam, chives and a healthy chunk of sous vide pork.  The broth tasted vibrantly of potato skins, and the classic flavors of the chive and bacon took me back to my childhood, unwrapping the foil from a scalding russet and piling on enough toppings to completely obscure the notion that it was ever a vegetable. 

The next course was one of my favorite dishes of the evening, and perhaps of the year.  It was a piece of roasted butterfish topped with carrot foam with peas and mint.  Spread across the plate was a streak of anise-flavored marshmallow fluff which the chef lightly torched just before service.  The combination of the burnt anise, peas, carrot, mint and butterfish was as divine as the presentation.

The next dish out was a palette cleanser – a melon sorbet with fennel on a bed of sheep’s milk feta.  The combination of the tangy feta and the sweet sorbet was unusual but extremely refreshing.  Although fruit and cheese is combination as timeless as peanut butter and jelly, this presentation turned the pairing into an elegant midpoint for the meal.

Next was another winner – duck liver risotto with risotto, currants, wild onion and finger lime.  Since risotto is typically reserved as the de-facto vegetarian menu option at so many restaurants, I was happy to see that the chef took the liberty of including duck liver in his rendition. 

The meat course came out next.  It was a medallion of lamb loin with an artichoke puree and a spherified béarnaise sauce, served with hemispheres of summer squash.  This course was the only one I found underwhelming.  By this point in the meal, I expected the lamb to be cooked to the oh-so-perfect rare that you can only achieve with sous vide, and accompanied by bright, complimentary flavors.  Unfortunately, I found the lamb to be slightly overcooked, leaving it drier than it should have been.  Although the menu listed artichoke and béarnaise, the flavors of the dish were dominated by the same anise notes that I had already enjoyed a few courses earlier.  I thought the spherified béarnaise sauce was a great concept, but I found it lacking in richness.

Luckily, the next course got everything back on track.  It was a triple-cream cheese served with toasted grass ice cream, a burnt grass sauce and sorrel.  The toasted grass ice cream was a revelation.  It was creamy and sweet, but with familiar traces of grass and hay.  It was a taste I had never experienced before, but it completely worked for me.  Extremely well done.

The meal ended with two more desserts – a goat milk mousse served with strawberry sorbet and buttermilk meringues, and a final taste of chocolate to end the evening.  By this point, we were both pleasantly stuffed and quite inebriated from the generous wine pairing.  Luckily our room was just a few short steps away.  When we awoke the next morning, happy and hungry, a gorgeous, complimentary, more-than-continental breakfast awaited all the guests in the restaurant. 

I had a chance to chat with the Chef Matt Costello post-dinner and ask him about his approach at Inn at Langley.  He’s very humble about his work at the restaurant, and views himself as “out here in the woods just doing my thing.”  Echoing the sentiments of other local chefs, he wishes the Seattle dining scene had more diversity.  When I asked about the modernist technique incorporated in his dishes, he explained that he was self-taught, but had made a visit out to the Modernist Cuisine lab.  He’s also dined several times at Alinea, though he says that it is nothing like what he does.  “Some folks just think I’m Blaine [Wetzel] from Noma and are confused a little.” 

Well, let me set all confusion aside by saying that Chef Costello combination of thoughtfully sourced ingredients and masterful avant garde technique add up to an incredible meal which I will not soon forget.  And, as the menu changes with the seasons and with his whims, I look forward to my next trip back to the Inn at Langley.

All images courtesy of Matt Costello.

Join Modernist Cuisine photographer, Ryan Matthew Smith, for a hands-on food photography workshop at TASTE in downtown Seattle. Ryan will explain the lighting techniques used during the making of Modernist Cuisine, as well as critical Photoshop steps to make your images pop!

Sunday, September 18th
10:00 AM – 4:30 PM
TASTE restaurant at the SAM
1300 1st Avenue
Seattle, WA 98101
United States

$125 per person, includes lunch.  Click here to purchase tickets.  Enrollment is limited to 12 students.

Agenda:

• An introduction to Ryan’s food photography
• Demos of strobe light techniques used in Modernist Cuisine
• Lunch provided by TASTE restaurant
• Hands-on action shooting workshop.  Attendees will learn to shoot food in motion!
• Photoshop Lesson 1: Curves -  The nearly everything tool
• Photoshop Lesson 2: Layer masking techniques -  How to localize your adjustments
• Photoshop Lesson 3: Making a single image from multiple captures
• Q&A session
• Student portfolio critique (optional)

A DSLR camera and previous Photoshop experience is recommended, but not required.  If you have a DSLR, please bring it for the hands-on shooting workshop.  If not, there will be a camera available to borrow.  You will have the opportunity to work with high-end Broncolor lighting equipment and also experiment with budget-friendly Alienbees strobes.  However, the lessons you’ll learn will enhance your food photography skills regardless of the equipment you use at home.

Your ticket price includes lunch provided by TASTE restaurant.  Confirmed attendees will be allowed to upload samples of previous work into a Flickr pool for the student portfolio critique at the end of the workshop.

If you have questions, please contact scott@seattlefoodgeek.com. 

https://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/193673

Last week, I spent four days working as a stage (pronounced stahzje, definition: cooking intern) at the Modernist Cuisine kitchen lab in Bellevue.  It was an amazing experience that deepened my respect for the talent and dedication of everyone involved with the book and its promotion.

Dinner was scheduled for Thursday night and prep began on Monday morning.  There were 15 guests and 30 courses.  Each course was broken down into multiple components which were listed on the kitchen’s whiteboard each morning.  I didn’t keep an exact count, but I estimate the number of component dishes to be somewhere around 200.  There were six full-time chefs: Maxime Bilet, Johnny Zhu, Grant Crilly, Sam Fahey-Burke, Anjana Shanker, and Aaron (who transitioned from 4th week stage to full-time employee during my stint).  Maxime Bilet was in and out of the lab Monday through Wednesday, wrangling suppliers and keeping a pulse on progress, but present in full-force on Thursday to lead the execution of the dinner service.  Depending on the day, there were up to three stages (myself included), and of course, the hardest working guy in the kitchen, Tyson, who washed dishes non-stop.

So, with that many hands on deck, how much could we possibly need to prep four days in advance?  A lot, it turned out.  My first order of business was to unbag, thaw, drain and juice 60 lbs. of frozen corn.  This corn would ultimately become corn butter, which was served with the second course, alongside pea butter with thinly-sliced rectangles of toast.  In case you’re having trouble visualizing what 60 lbs. of corn actually looks like, it’s approximately a home-sized freezer packed full.  And how much butter does that yield?  About 120 grams – not quite 1 cup.  It’s roughly equivalent in scale to harvesting saffron, except it requires a massive centrifuge instead of dozens of Italian field laborers.  It took me over three hours to juice all that corn, then divide the juice precisely into 400g bottles for the ‘fuge.  Then, in batches of 6, the corn juice spun at 10,000 RPMs for an hour.  The result was a product very similar to the corn butter I made at home, but with an even greater separation between the liquid and solid layers.  I gently scraped the layer of corn butter out of each bottle, then, like almost every other food in the kitchen, I sealed it in a vacuum bag.

[Hopefully impressed by my lack of complaining] the chefs moved me on to other components that felt a more like cooking and less like panning for gold.  I helped Sam make a praline batter from roasted hazelnuts, and I helped Grant remove the red, outer skin from stalks of rhubarb.  It turns out that if you peel rhubarb to remove its red exterior, it looks strikingly like celery.  The chefs used that illusion to garnish the Fruit Minestra, the first of the dessert courses.  Very clever.

Next, I worked on my first brunoise.  If you aren’t familiar with the term, “brunoise” means little, tiny cubes.  The size of the cubes ranges from 1-3mm (depending on who you ask), and they are generally made by julienning foods with a mandoline, then cutting the food into strips, turning the strips 90 degrees and cutting them into cubes.  It sounds pretty easy, and conceptually, it is.  But in practice, this turned out to be my nemesis.  Because the cubes are so small, a difference in size of .5mm can equate to 25-50%, and it’s that discrepancy is noticeable to the eye… especially eye of a chef.

My first brunoise assignment was a white onion.  I’ve cut onions [at home] for years, and I’ve cut them with roughly the same technique that Sam showed me: cut off the top, split the onion in half, make a few slices with your knife parallel to the cutting board, make some more slices with your knife parallel to the onion root, then cut across the onion to produce little chunks.  The difference was, I had always cut an onion for the sole purpose of turning it into small pieces.  I had never before cut an onion “for service”.  This turned out to be an important distinction.  Foods cut for service had to be perfect… like, take-out-your-caliper-perfect.  “Easy enough,” I thought.  My plan was to take a little extra time and care with my knifework and, presto, perfect little cubes.  Wrong!  No matter how slowly I went, that asshole of an onion would invariably shatter into little round shards, extruded rhombuses, and other quadrilaterals devoid of right angles.  As the week progressed, I found the same to be especially true of shallots, and to an extent, every other food that I tried laboriously to cube: candied orange peel, cucumber flesh, maitake mushrooms, and likely several other ingredients that I’ve subconsciously repressed.

At some point, each chef assigned me something to brunoise, and invariably each of them instructed me, “Take your time, do it right.”  I thought this was awesome.  I hadn’t previously spent much time in a working kitchen, so my expectations were largely based on clips I’d seen of reality TV chefs flipping over pans and screaming at people (often in English accents).  None of this was anywhere to be found in the Modernist Cuisine kitchen.  Even when timing was tight and the pressure was on, nobody lost their cool and not once was I ever made to feel incapable because of my inexperience.  That’s not to say that they relaxed their standards one iota for their stages – “Those cubes are getting a little big, Scott,” was all the instruction I needed to know that I should discard my pile and start again.  If a chef noticed that I was struggling with a task or a technique, he or she would stop me, help me with instructions, tips or tricks, then set me back on course.  It was an amazingly supportive environment… in spite of all those little fucking cubes.

By the end of the first day, I was exhausted and I felt like I had gone barefoot ice skating on a hot lake of Microplanes.  I had bought brand new non-slip work shoes for the internship and, although I had the foresight to equip them with Dr. Scholes, I was not prepared for the impact of a full day on my feet.  It doesn’t happen often in the software world.  When I got home, slipped off my shoes, and sank into bed, the relief was so orgasmic that it put me to sleep. 

I arrived bright and early on day two and got straight to work.  It’s amazing how much confidence you can build in a single day of experience: I knew my way around, I had learned most of the protocols and I had compiled a list of each chef’s known peccadillos (ex. Sam likes the saucepans hung small-to-large from right to left; Max hates it when grocery packaging touches a cutting board; Grant prefers wood boards over plastic).  I marched into the kitchen confidently, grabbed an apron and a stack of towels and got straight to work.  Yesterday’s whiteboard full of components had been replaced by an entirely new list, just as long.

I started on the Gazpacho, prepared in the least traditional fashion I’ve seen.  This soup was made primarily from plums and pluots (a hybrid between a plum and an apricot).  The sliced fruit had been marinating with other components in a vacuum bag overnight.  My job was to blend it in the VitaPrep, then pass it through a tamis, discarding the thick pulp.  Even though the blender did a great job pureeing the soup, the mesh of the tamis was so fine that it took me hours to scrape the soup through.  The liquid that it rendered was bright orange, less viscous than water, and intensely fruit-flavored.  Once I had pressed through all the liquid I could, it went straight into a vacuum bag and into the chamber sealer.

I’m told that all stages make the same mistake the first time they try to vacuum seal liquids.  Some (not all) liquids start to boil and foam as the pressure in the chamber drops.  As this boiling becomes more intense, it’s not uncommon for the liquid to erupt out of the unsealed bag and make a mess of the vacuum chamber.  Grant was kind enough to show me a workaround: if you set the liquid in a regular upright container and pull a vacuum without trying to seal it first, you can boil off most of the dissolved gasses.  Then, when you go to vacuum seal the bag, you can avoid the unpleasant flood of liquid past the sealing bar.  This trick was instrumental to my success vacuum packing – only once did I make a mess of the sealer and that was from learning a different lesson: spot prawn shells are sharp as shit and will poke through a vacuum bag (or five).

Anyhow, days two and three continued at this pace.  We worked from 9 until 5:30 or 6:30, busily knocking out components, vacuum sealing them, and arranging them in the quickly-diminishing refrigerator space.  Some items, such as cryoshattered berries and a vacuum-set green apple foam, went straight into the deep freezer at -60C.  Other items went into one of many sous vide baths humming along throughout the kitchen, and yet other components, such as the house-made cocoa pasta, were left out to dry on sheet pans.

When day four arrived, I knew it would be crunch time.  We were on a great pace for delivering dinner that evening, but there were some components that we couldn’t prep until the day-of, and the tingle of anxiety in the air indicated that it would be a long, busy day.  We started work at 7AM that morning.  The mixing bowls and cutting boards that normally lived underneath the center prep table were swapped out for sparkling, clean dishware.  Any unnecessary equipment was stashed in towering storage shelves to clear floor space for the two round tables and chairs that would seat 15 lucky guests.  The evening before, I had [obsessively and compulsively] rearranged the “spice” cabinets and dry goods storage so they looked organized and uncluttered (I use quotes around the word “spice” because most of the powders on those shelves were unfamiliar food additives, modified starches and powdered dinosaur genitals). 

Johnny had me clean [what must have been] ten pounds of morels for service, explaining how to check for any remaining grit at the end of each wash.  I was told that there must not be any grit; that is, among the miles of folds and crevices surrounding each mushroom, they must be washed so thoroughly that not a single grain of sand remains.  When I was finished I laid the gorgeous morels on a towel-lined sheet tray to dry.  “One more thing,” Johnny said.  “Eat one.”  I grabbed a small, raw mushroom and started chewing.  “Any grit?” he asked?  I thought this would be my Grant Achatz olive pit moment (3/4 down the linked page) where I had proudly returned with my accomplished task, only to be proven incomplete by the experienced chef.  Luckily, there was no grit.  If I had learned anything at this point, it was not to take shortcuts.

By the time we were ready for dinner service, the whole kitchen was electric with energy.  I had the honor of wearing official Modernist Cuisine whites for dinner service, though I tried hard to hide my fanboy grin when I put on the jacket.  It was kind of like getting to visit the set of Star Trek, put on a Lieutenant’s uniform, and fire off a few photon torpedoes.  If that’s your thing, it’s unavoidable that you’ll pop a [metaphoric] boner in the process.

During dinner service, the other stages and I waited at-the-ready on the far side of the kitchen while the chefs, including Nathan, were “asses to elbows” firing and plating each course.  Every now and then, one of the chefs would ask for “hands” and the lucky stage who happened to be closest got to jump in on the action.  I had the privilege of helping plate several courses, including the Beef Stew, Polenta Marinara, Fruit Minestra and Banana Truffles.  I even got to hop on the line for some last-minute morel chopping while the Morels and Cream course.  Although my contributions were minor in the grand scheme of things, it gave me a huge rush of excitement just to be involved.

Watching Maxime and the other chefs in action was pretty amazing.  Since the kitchen is open to the diners and only about ten feet away from their tables, any cuts, spills, burns, mistakes or re-fires would have been particularly noticeable.  However, the chefs worked so smoothly and seamlessly together that their movement appeared choreographed.  Every dish that left the kitchen looked good enough to photograph, even though they were often sending out 15 plates at a time.  The servers, who have been retained through all of the previous dinners, were exceptionally knowledgeable about the menu and their professionalism and poise could make you forget, for a moment, that you were having a three-star meal in the hallway between a machine shop and a mosquito incubator.  It really was a fantastic production, and I can say with certainty that it’s one of the most unique dining experiences on the planet.

Now that I’ve had the pleasure of being both a guest at one of these dinners and helping to prepare it, I can tell you that time does not pass at equal rates on either side of the kitchen counter.  Even thought the dinner I ate was just about the same length as the dinner we served, time flew by when I was seated and eating, though it seemed to crawl forward when I was on my feet shuttling ingredients around.  It was about 10:30 PM by the time we had the kitchen clean and I took off my whites.  By then, we were all a bit loopy.  Maxime poured me a glass of leftover white wine and I nearly chugged it out of thirst and reflex.  We nibbled on bits of leftovers, reflected on the success of the evening, swapped a few sophomoric jokes and finally parted ways.  I cannot remember being more exhausted, nor can I remember feeling as proud for what I had helped accomplish in those four long days.

I want to publicly reiterate my sincere thanks to Sam, Grant, Johnny, Anjana, Aaron, Maxime and Nathan for allowing me this opportunity.  It was an experience that I’ll never forget, and I’m sure it will play a formative role in my future cooking.  I appreciate your generosity of time, knowledge and spirit and have a deepened respect for the work that you do.

If you’re interested in reading more about the meal itself, Alvin Schultz posted a great writeup.  You can also check out the slideshow of my experience as a dinner guest at the lab, which covered many of the same courses.

Many thanks to Ryan Matthew Smith for the action shots above!

Last week, Monster Kitchen premiered on the Food Network, featuring yours truly!  In case you missed it, the show is now available to watch online! 

Do you know what it takes to make a 6-foot donut?  My friend (and rival food geek on the show) Jeff Potter explains some of the math and physics over on his blog. 

[Note: you’ll have to click play twice, and ignore the annoying popup – sorry, the video is hosted elsewhere]

Makes: 1 cool cocktail
Total Kitchen Time: 1 minute (+15 minutes prep, + 30 minutes wait)

Ingredients:

• 3 oz. centrifuged watermelon juice (see below)
• 1 oz. Cazadores Reposado Tequila
• 2 drops Tabasco Sauce

To make the centrifuged watermelon juice:

1. Cut one fresh watermelon into halves lengthwise, then halves again.  Remove the flesh from the watermelon, leaving the bitter rind.  Cut the watermelon into 2” pieces.
2. Working in batches, puree the watermelon pieces until smooth.  Divide the mixture evenly between your centrifuge containers.  A typical watermelon will yield about 2 liters of puree. 
3. Centrifuge the watermelon puree for 30 minutes at 1300Gs.  Carefully remove the centrifuge containers and skim off any film that may have formed at the top.  Decant the clear watermelon juice into a 2 liter container.  You may want to decant through a fine mesh strainer or cheesecloth to ensure that solid matter doesn’t accidentally come along for the ride.

Note: if you don’t have a centrifuge, you can clarify the watermelon juice by holding it near, but not too near, an active black hole.  The extreme gravity will clarify out the juice.

To make the Hot Gallagher:

1. Combine the watermelon juice and tequila in a cocktail shaker full of ice.  Shake vigorously and pour into a lowball glass over cubed or cracked ice. 
2. Garnish with 2 drops of Tabasco, or another favorite hot sauce. 

On Tuesday, July 19th, Food Network will air a new show titled Monster Kitchen, and I’m on it.  The show centers around a grudge match between two Los Angeles chefs: Eric Greenspan of The Foundry on Melrose and Michael Fiorelli of mar’sel.  They put their ego’s on the line in a battle for doughnut supremacy, and in this case, size does matter.  Both chefs call on a food geek (me and Jeff Potter, the author of the fabulous book Cooking for Geeks) and a pastry chef (Michelle Cozens and Amy Brown) to help them pull off the challenge.  I haven’t yet seen the show, but I can tell you that the competition is fierce.  Making a gigantic doughnut requires some clever engineering, a ton of work, and a whole lotta frosting. 

Tune in to Food Network Tuesday, July 19th at 9PM to see what happens!

For some reason I can’t remember, Jessie Oleson (of the fantastic blog Cakespy.com) and I decided to get together and absolutely destroy a few sweets using some of my favorite kitchen tools: the sous vide machine, the centrifuge, the rotor-stator homogenizer, the blowtorch, the vacuum chamber, and the blender.  I took photos of our mayhem and Jessie illustrated them and crafted a story in her signature style.  The result is… disturbing.  Without further ado, here is the Photo Story of the Misfit Pastries.

In a land not so far away, in the dark endcap displays of the grocery store, exists the land of misfit pastries.

These are the sad, stale, and typically on-sale sweets that have not been purchased, the unloved in a generally lovable section of the food pyramid.

Like shooting stars, their futures initially looked bright. But as someone (don’t ask me who, probably a lighting salesman) once said, "the brighter the light, the bigger the shadow". And here, we are going to delve into some of the bad things that can happen to fallen pastries.

Take here the hapless cookies, so festive and fresh a few days ago, which are now inspiring the ire of a rather dapper Watermelon. What will happen next in this scene? We cannot be sure, but one thing is certain: that Mr. Watermelonsworth is displeased, and his monocle and mustache should tell you that he means business.

…or see how cupcakes have fallen into an unfortunate series of events. sometimes we do senseless things when we are bored or just hungry. were these purposeful lures or simply a cupcake playdates gone bad? Nobody can be sure, but one thing’s certain, these poor Hostess cupcakes are never gonna be the same, and their friends are looking hungry.

…oh, and that happy hand pie, BFF with Mr. Unicorn? Looks like Mr. Unicorn sold his friend out to food abusers, and look what they did to him! It is proof that you never know who your friends are, and that the world is a bad, bad place.

…and what of the Cinnamon Roll who once greeted the day with high hopes of being made into a breakfast of champions? Now he’s been relegated to Accidental Smoothie, a stale, sad pile of carbohydrate crumbs.

…as for the scone, let’s just say it’s a blessing that he never saw the homogenizer coming.

…and what of the cookies? Those sweet flowers made of flour, butter, and love? With no parental supervision they got up to some mischief and found themselves in deep–literally–in the sous vide.

So, boys and girls, the next time you see those bags of lonely, aging treats at the convenience store, know that their Sell By clock is ticking down to a rather gruesome demise.  When you reach for the cake mix instead of the plastic-wrapped pocket pie, you’re turning your back on a helpless sweet.  And when you buy that glistening, fresh, handmade cupcake from the neighborhood bakery, you’re signing the death warrant of another misfit pastry.

It’s been a while since I cooked a meal for the blog, so when a leg of lamb arrived at my doorstep (care of the lovely folks at the American Lamb board), I took that as a sign that I should get my ass in the kitchen.  I’ve been on a carrot kick all spring, and I’ve made several variations of the caramelized carrot soup from Modernist Cuisine.  It occurred to me that the deep, sweet flavor of pressure-cooked carrots is not too dissimilar from that of a beef demi-glace (the thick, rich sauce that restaurants often serve over red meat).  This is undoubtedly the quickest demi-glace you’ll ever make, and I’ve gotta say, it’s fucking amazing. Vegetarians will throw a parade in my honor.

Thinking about demi-glace also got me in the mood for bone marrow.  I’ve seen a few faux marrow preparations in the past and I always find them amusing.  However, a big part of the appeal of roasted bone marrow is its decadent, gelatinous texture.  For my version, I decided to use a section of leek as a fake bone and achieve a convincing marrow texture by pressure cooking leek and onion, then setting it in a fluid gel.  The result was quite a bit darker than roasted bone marrow, but the richness and texture were spot-on.

For the recipe, keep reading…

Carrot Demi-Glace

• 200g carrot juice
• 1g baking soda
• 50g high-quality soy sauce
• 2g cornstarch

1. Combine the carrot juice, baking soda and soy sauce in a small saucepan high heat.  Bring to a boil, stirring frequently.  Reduce the heat to medium and continue simmering the mixture until it turns dark and thickens, about 20 minutes.
2. In a small bowl, combine the cornstarch and a few teaspoons of the hot carrot mixture.  Stir to combine, then add to the rest of the carrot mixture.  Cook 3 minutes more to thicken.  Note that the sauce will also thicken as it cools.

Leek “Marrow”

• 1 medium leek
• 50g chopped white onion
• .7g baking soda
• 1 pat butter
• .5g agar agar
• .2g xanthan gum

1. Trim the green end of the leek and save for another use.  Trim and discard the root end.  Cut a 1.5” section from the white end to use as the marrow bone.  Remove the inner rings of the leek from this section, leaving 3-4 of the outer rings in place.
2. Dice the inner rings of leek, plus other sections of white leek until you have 25g.
3. Combine the 25g of leek with the white onion, baking soda and butter in a small, nonreactive bowl (stainless steel, glass or ceramic) that will fit easily into your pressure cooker. 
4. Add water to the pressure cooker, then place the bowl of leek and onion inside, preferably on a rack so the bowl doesn’t touch the bottom of the pot. Attach the lid and pressure regulator and pressure cook for 20 minutes. Remove from heat, vent and allow to cool.
5. Meanwhile, blanch the in-tact section of leek rings in boiling water for one minute, then chill in an ice bath until ready to serve.
6. Place the cooked onion and leek mixture over medium-high heat in a small saucepan.  Add the agar agar and xanthan gum and stir to combine.  Allow the gelling agents to fully hydrate by holding a temperature of at least 83C for 3 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent scorching.  Lower the heat, and season to taste with salt.  Note: if you plan to serve the marrow with additional salt, you may want to undersalt the marrow at this point.
7. Place the leek bone on a plate and spoon in the leek and onion mixture.  The mixture will firm slightly as it cools.  For a more convincing roasted bone marrow effect, lightly burn the top and sides of the leek with a blowtorch.
8. To finish, top with flake sea salt and serve with chervil, parsley or celery leaves tossed in a vinaigrette. 

If you chose to omit the lamb and substitute roasted mushrooms, you’d have a pretty exceptional vegetarian dinner on your hands.  However, a pile of charred lamb, cooked sous vide for 48 hours at 56C was the perfect way to mop up that delicious carrot demi. 

If you were lucky, your eighth grade science teacher demonstrated the surprising effect of plugging a pickle into a household power outlet. The pickle glows bright orange for a few seconds, then starts to smoke and smell like burning.  The phenomenon is caused by the electricity exciting the sodium (salt) in the pickle, causing it to emit light. 

I wondered what other foods I could get to glow, so I tested pickled asparagus, limes, grapefruit, apples, hot dogs, sauerkraut, bacon, ketchup and soy sauce.  Keep reading to see the results.

The pickle worked like a charm, of course.  Pickles are brined in a high-sodium solution until the salt is distributed throughout the interior of the pickle.  When I turned the power on, the pickle flickered and hissed a very menacing hiss, giving off the same orange glow as the sodium lights that line most city streets.

I was hopeful for the acidic foods like pickled asparagus, lime and grapefruit.  Although those foods don’t have very high sodium, for some reason I assumed that they’d still produce a similar reaction.  I was wrong.  The high voltage did heat up all of those foods in short order, but they barely produced a spark.  Apples, however, neither got hot nor sparked at all.  The next time I need to shield myself from a lightning strike, I’ll hide under a pile of Red Delicious.

I did get some sodium activity from hot dogs and sauerkraut, but it wasn’t quite as dramatic as the fireworks display from the pickle.  The bacon also produced very few sparks, but interestingly, it began to cook after only a few seconds of power.  The bacon fat sizzled and smoked and after a minute or two, the bacon started to take on a cooked appearance.  Given that the ends near the wire connections were singed and black, I decided not to make taste testing a part of this experiment.  However, if I found myself trapped in the basement with only an extension cord and a week’s supply of uncooked bacon, I’m confident that I could MacGyver my way through breakfast.

Given that the saltiest foods appeared to produce the best results, I reached for two of the highest-sodium condiments in my pantry: ketchup and soy sauce.  The ketchup lit up instantly, bubbling and smoking while it zapped away.  After a moment, I could smell the caramelization of the sugars in the ketchup –it was the same aroma you get from frying tomato paste.  Next, I dipped the wires into a bowl of soy sauce and flipped the switch.  If you had any doubt about how much sodium is in soy sauce, let the video above set the record straight.  More than any other food I tested, the soy sauce produced a startling reaction. 

So what was the point of electrocuting my food?  We use electricity in all sorts of ways to indirectly heat our food: electric stovetops, ovens, crock pots, toasters… all of those devices heat up metal coils which radiate or conduct heat to the outer surface of food.  Passing electrical current through food heats it internally, warming the food itself instead of warming a heating coil.  This technique could potentially allow us to precisely control the internal temperature of food for sous vide-like cooking without the water bath or the time spent waiting for heat to travel from the outside of the food to the core.  It also has the potential to create surprising new flavors, or caramelize foods in new ways.  It’s also just really fucking cool to play with.

Note: This experiment is easy enough to recreate if you take a few safety precautions.  If you don’t already know what those precautions are, though, I wouldn’t recommend that you give this a try – you’ll probably die in a very painful and embarrassing way.

Seal Test

The Ziploc vacuum bags work via a special flat, plastic valve built into one corner.  To seal foods, you zip the top of the bag closed, then place the hand pump over the valve and pump until all the air is removed.  This process only takes a few seconds, but achieves a similar compression strength to the FoodSaver (I attempted to measure the strength of the vacuum, but neither the FoodSaver nor the Ziploc registered a vacuum pressure high enough to register on my vacuum pressure gauge).  And, unlike the FoodSaver, there’s no heat sealing required.  If you’ve ever had the unpleasant experience of trying to get a FoodSaver to seal moist foods, you’ll know that heat sealing and liquids are nearly incompatible.  I can’t count the number times I’ve had to reseal a vacuum bag of meat because the heat seal failed.  The Ziploc bags don’t solve the liquids problem completely (for that, you want a chamber vacuum sealer) but it does seal just as well for wet foods as dry ones. 

To compare the seal and permeability of each bag, I placed a folded paper towel in a Ziploc vacuum bag and an equivalently sized FoodSaver bag.  I measured the mass of each paper towel before sealing, then placed both bags in a 60C water bath for 8 hours.  I dried the bags and measured the mass of the paper towels from each – if there were any increase in mass, I could attribute it to a leak in the bag’s seal, or water permeability of the bag itself.  For both the Ziploc and FoodSaver bags, there was no detectable increase in mass, implying that when sealed properly, both bags offer the same leak resistance. 

Price

Since pricing varies between retailer, I’m running the numbers based on Amazon’s prices.

Ziploc Vacuum System
Starter Kit (includes pump and 3 quart bags) – $4.20
1 Gallon Bags – $0.69/ea

FoodSaver Vacuum System
FoodSaver V3460 – $149.50
1 Gallon Bags – $0.71/ea

Other Considerations

Although the Ziploc bags are just slightly cheaper than their FoodSaver equivalents, the FoodSaver system offers continuous rolls of bag material which I find to be extremely convenient for sealing odd-size foods like a rack or ribs.  In addition, the FoodSaver offers accessories such as rigid vacuum canisters.  In my experience, these canisters are the best part of the FoodSaver system.  Whereas vacuum bags don’t create negative atmospheric pressure (since the atmosphere keeps pressing the bag against the food) the canisters allow you to actually create a vacuum environment.  This is highly useful for making vacuum-set foams, vacuum brining or vacuum infusing foods. 

Since the Ziploc bags don’t rely on a heat seal, the bag is not permanently altered when you use it.  That means that you could theoretically re-use your Ziploc bags over and over again.  Ziploc (wisely) recommends against reuse in general because the bags are difficult to clean and the risk of contamination between uses is significant.  However, if you’re using the bags to store dry goods like rice or grain, you can open the top, take what you need, then reseal.  If you were using a FoodSaver, the bag would get about three inches shorter every time you wanted to open and close it. 

Both FoodSaver and Ziploc bags are BPA-free and have been tested for to meet food safety standards.  The Ziploc bags are advertised as microwave-safe, but are not intended for use in boiling water.  After eight hours at 60C in the sous vide bath, the Ziploc bag showed no signs of deterioration.  That’s great news if you want to cook red meat.  However, I did not test higher temperature cooking conditions.  The Ziploc bags are not marketed for sous vide cooking, though ironically the words “sous vide” appear on the bag because they are printed in both French and English (“sous vide” is French for vacuum). 

Given my experience so far, I highly recommend the Ziploc system.  For the ability to vacuum seal foods for less than five dollars, there’s no reason not to give it a try.  In my opinion, this is a great step toward reducing the total cost of cooking sous vide at home and reducing the barriers to entry for people who aren’t obsessively geeky in the kitchen.  And, of course, if you’re still looking for a good way to heat your water bath, may I recommend another cheap solution?

[If you noticed that the picture at the top of this post looks just like the picture comparing sous vide bags from Modernist Cuisine, +10 points!  Instead of sealing colored water, though, I opted for a heartier payload.]

Last night I had the pleasure of getting together with Brian Canlis (of Canlis Restaurant) to shoot some food.  Brian and I are both pretty enthusiastic about the subject, and the release of the Canlis Spring menu provided a great opportunity to photograph a handful of Chef Jason Franey’s stunning dishes.  The best part, though?  Not letting the “props” go to waste.

I have to say, I was very impressed with the artistry and complexity of each dish.  They look great in photos, but they’re even more impressive in person.  Canlis may be an old school establishment, but Jason Franey’s food is about as forward-thinking as it gets.

[I don’t have actual descriptions for each dish from the Chef, so I’m leaving the captions intentionally simplistic]

Above: Carrots
Below: Duck egg

Foie Gras, Rhubarb and Celery

Halibut with Artichoke
Pork Chop

Tuna Crudo, Sashimi and Tartare