Tag Archives: Experimental Cuisine Collective

The kitchen laboratory

21 Oct

Molecular gastronomy in action: strawberry ravioli on a spoon before being dropped into a liquid nitrogen bath. Credit: iStockphoto/Thomas_EyeDesign

These days the kitchen is my chemistry lab, and if I were back in college I’d probably be one of the students beating down the door to get in to a cooking science class like this one at Harvard.

Despite my experience with chemical gadgets, the wildest item in my kitchen is a food processor. Watching what molecular gastronomy folks cook up next soothes my strange secret longing for a rotary evaporator and a supply of liquid nitrogen. So last month, I headed over to the Experimental Cuisine Collective meeting to find out about a chemical kitchen topic, flavor pairings.

Bernard Larousse started with a fascinating side note about the partnerships that he and his colleagues are building between chefs and scientists with the Flemish Primitives. Chefs used ultrasound to make stock, but my favorite funky food gadget had to be the fluidic plate (my term, not his). Researchers developed plates that work like microfluidic chips (see earlier post), electrical circuits within the plates allow chefs to deliver water droplets to the food at a defined point in time. Sure, this isn’t really practical at home (Yes, I want one). But this plate has the right mix of posh and geeky food style.

But back to the flavor chemistry. Eighty percent of taste comes from the sense of smell, as most of us notice when we have a cold and all food tastes like cardboard. But what makes two flavors work together? Researchers have analyzed the flavor components and compared them. A good match is all about having a similar mixture of component flavor compounds. This doesn’t take into account other issues such as texture. If you have two foods where the flavors don’t overlap, you can bridge between them with a food with flavor components that overlap between the other two: cheese and vanilla don’t match, but they work fine if you add coffee.

The website maps these chemical relationships on a wheel. Like foods are grouped together on branches, and the distance from the central food indicates how well it matches. Take this one for strawberries: I don’t think I every would have matched them with mussels. Not only can you make new matches, you can also figure out how to replace a flavor with other components with related flavor profiles.

That last piece seems to be particularly useful for vegetarian foodies, who’d like to replicate the robust flavor of meat. Larousse also points out that it can be a way for locavores to replace non-local ingredients. Replacing an ingredient like citrus with other natural ingredients still seems a bit more like a science project at this point– something that molecular gastronomers might try for fun. Ultimately, it’s probably easier for most of us to go buy an orange.

Advertisements

Seaweed, sushi and science

17 Dec
Sushi!

iStockphoto/ShyMan

I prefer my seaweed applewood smoked. However, truthfully, before yesterday, I’m not sure I could have told you whether I liked seaweed, smoked or otherwise.

I do like sushi, but the seaweed within a maki roll has always seemed more functional than flavorful– a necessary material to keep the whole thing held together.

But when I heard about yesterday’s Experimental Cuisine Collective meeting– “The Science of Sushi and Seaweed”– I couldn’t resist. The speaker’s day job is as a biophysicist at a Danish university, and he haunts sushi restaurants (and even writes a book) in his spare time. Perfect.

And so I spent yesterday afternoon at a sushi science talk and algae tasting. Seaweeds are algae after all, not plants. So though many algae synthesize food from the sun, unlike plants, seaweeds are complexes of single cells. Plants are interdependent multicellular organisms– seaweed are communities of independent operators.

Ole Mouritsen talked in a lovely cultural and scientific hodgepodge– part cultural history and part science. The flavors of sushi– the sweetness of the rice, the sour from the vinegar– date back to old methods for preserving fish. Though no longer necessary, those lingering elements of taste are part of the sushi experience. A tidbit about wasabi– though it may be fiery– its punch comes from isothiocyanates (funky molecular structures that have carbon, nitrogen and sulfur lined up next to each other). But unlike other molecules that set our taste buds on fire (capsaicin in chili peppers, for example), isothiocyanates are water soluble. That’s why you can actually cleanse your palate pretty easily if you get a little too much of the evil green stuff.

But back to the seaweed. I’m definitely not ready to become an algaetarian, but seaweed definitely makes an interesting, sometimes pungent garnish. Nori– the ubiquitous sushi wrapping– is actually paper-like, easily torn. But when wrapped around sushi rice, it quickly absorbs water and the complex sugars become gummy. The Japanese annually fete Kathleen Mary Drew-Baker, the British botanist who figured out how to culture this particular algae.

Oboro kombu looks a little like vacuum cleaner lint and melts in your mouth like umami cotton candy. And then there’s the dulse– dark red, tangy, particularly the almost bacony applewood-smoked version. Don’t forget to sniff first.

Share