Ryan Matthew Smith, Modernist Cuisine
Roasted Corn EloteI
t was a crisp winter afternoon in Bellevue, Wash., when I arrived at the nondescript door of the bunker-like Intellectual Ventures laboratory. This is where Nathan Myhrvold and his team, including chefs and book collaborators Chris Young and Maxime Bilet, have labored for nearly four years on their 2,400 page, 47-pound, $625 book, soon-to-be-published "Modernist Cuisine: The Art & Science of Cooking." I eagerly pored over its research-packed pages for about an hour with Mr. Young.
Then, coming on six o'clock, Mr. Myhrvold, the former Chief Technology Officer of Microsoft and an inventor with hundreds of patents to his name, came in, wearing chef's whites, and ushered us into dinner. Boy, people eat early around here, I thought. Little did I know I would be eating non-stop for the next three hours.
Photos: A Modernist Mega-Meal
See photos from the 30-course dinner.
Ryan Matthew Smith, Modernist Cuisine
Beef Stew
Eighteen of us, including collaborators on the book and Intellectual Ventures executives, sat around three tables in the kitchen laboratory, while a team of 10 labored over our meal. The lab was brightly lit by fluorescent overhead lamps and cramped with high-tech culinary machines, including a high-speed centrifuge that spins at about 18,000 RPM (a car tops out at about 7,000 RPM), immersion circulators for sous vide cooking and a combi-oven that both bakes and steams. Mr. Myhrvold explained we would be guinea pigs to determine whether 30-plus courses was too much food to offer guests. "If only one of you goes out of here on a stretcher, I'm not going to worry," he announced. The room broke into nervous titters of laughter.
And so began the most exciting meal of my life. Here's what we ate…
1. "Fried Pear and Pickle Chips"
"These are potato chips, only not made out of potatoes," Mr. Myhrvold announced while waiters set out dishes of thin, crisply fried apple-pears and long sheaths of nearly translucent pickle. The apple-pears tasted just like potato chips—by compressing the fruit, the chefs bring out a quality similar to potato starch. Crisp, light, greaseless and tasty.
2. "Baked Potato"
Light little puffs that looked and tasted a bit like Pringles, but with more natural potato taste, came out with a mound of "potato juice Chantilly." It wiggled and wobbled and did a good imitation of the blob. It was somewhat hard to scoop onto the potato mounds—it slid off unless we dug in vigorously. The Chantilly had a clean, light potato flavor but its wiggy-jiggly nature was intimidating .
3. "Roasted Corn Elote"
As if to counter the blob-like aesthetic of the potato Chantilly, next came Chinese soup spoons mounded with freeze dried corn, a sprinkling of what looked like white snow and pretty little flowers. It looked like a lovely Cy Twombly composition, and melted in the mouth with all the sweetness of the freshest summer corn.
Ryan Matthew Smith, Modernist Cuisine
Cheese Souffle
4. "Cheese Souffle"
These little soufflés stood firm and tall, with no sign of falling, and were easily lifted by the fingers. Because they acted so sturdy, I expected them to have been made with extra flour or some kind of stabilizer that would sacrifice the ethereal nature of the best soufflés, but they were as light and melting as air.
5. "Grilled Chicken Skin"
A tiny skewer with a small piece of chicken skin, crispy and full of chicken-fat flavor, just like the "chef's treat" piece of skin you yank off the chicken as you're carving it.
6. "Apres Ski Foie Gras Egg Nog"
As if the chicken skin weren't rich enough, next came a little glass filled with what looked like the Devil's egg nog, at least if you're watching your figure. One sip was pure caloric purgatory: Silky and rich, with no livery taste.
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'Modernist Cuisine'
The title is not a metaphor: This bon bon was exactly like a Rocher chocolate, with an outer layer of nuts rolled onto a shell of chocolate. Inside was rich foie gras, with a hazelnut embedded in the middle. Savory desserts are one of many mind-games modernist chefs like to play: They mess with your expectations, which in this case is that a Rocher chocolate should be filled with hazelnut cream. I find it hard to recover from that kind of switcheroo: As good as this was, it didn't taste like my brain told me it was supposed to taste, though my mouth enjoyed the silky, rich pairing.
8. "Snow Ball" Green Apple and Fresh Wasabi
On a little charcoal-colored dish came this delightful palate cleanser: It appeared to be no more than little platter of snow. We were told to pick it up with our fingers. I popped some into my mouth and was suddenly blown back by the spicy kick of wasabi. I grabbed some more of the snow ( which was actually a dehydrated and frozen concentration of apple and wasabi and got a mouthful of the freshest, tartest green apple. Going back and forth between the two flavors, my taste buds were refreshed.
9. "Onion Gratin"
Next came a little study of onions, in three beautiful, Lilliputian canapés. The square and the puffed cracker demonstrated how powerfully onion can flavor crunchy items. They filled the mouth with satisfying, savory flavor. I found myself marveling at how a humble ingredient such as onion can be elevated; the care and preparation that went into th ese canapé s was the kind you normally see reserved for caviar or foie gras. The onion ice cream was creamy, with deep onion flavor. My personal prejudice against savory desserts made it hard for me to enjoy, though. I simply don't want my ice cream to taste like a main course, I said to myself…though in the course of the meal, I would be proven wrong. But more on that later….
10. "Oyster Cocktail"
Wayt Gibbs, the book's editor, sat next to me and revealed that what was unique about this dish is the fact that the oysters were opened not by traditional shucking—which involves the hazardous process of prying the shell open with a flat knife—but by exposing the mollusks to liquid nitrogen, a key ingredient in modernist cooking. "It's the fastest, easiest way to do it," says Mr. Gibbs. The oysters were small, intense, fresh and briny, in bright, Asian-influenced sauces.
11. "Raw Egg Shooter"
Ryan Matthew Smith, Modernist Cuisine
Raw Egg Shooter
Mr. Myhrvold had announced, jokingly, but in that way someone can joke while being fairly serious, that people did not have to eat things that they didn't like, but that he would be writing down the names of the holdouts. When a server came over, appeared to crack a quail egg and pour the contents onto my dish, I immediately felt my stomach clench. I'll eat very soft eggs, but raw eggs don't appetize me. Nonetheless, my professional pride at stake, I dug in…only to get the biggest surprise of the night. This was no egg. Instead, it was an intense, mango-flavored orb, surrounded by a sweet, slightly acidic syrup, with a couple of dots of chili oil. It reminded me of the delicious mango-dusted-with-chili that Mexican vendors sell on the streets of Los Angeles. I laughed with relief and delight.
"Congratulations!" Mr. Myhrvold trumpeted with glee. "You are now done with your amuse bouche!" The room erupted with laughter—we had already been through so many dishes, so many surprising tastes, and so many sheer calories, I couldn't imagine how we could keep eating. But the next dish was so pretty, like a modern-art composition crossed with an image from a Japanese scroll. Round disks of briny and rich monkfish liver, a tiny sliver of yuzu, a Japanese citrus, and the lightest, sweetest pear juice created a flavor composition of rich, sweet and acidic. I did find myself longing for a few large crystals of salt to add one more layer of opposing taste.
13. "Spaghetti Vongole-Geoduck, Bagna Cauda, Sea Beans"
Mr. Myhrvold entertained the group by carrying around a geoduck clam, which looks like, let's say it plainly, a giant phallus, and evoked peals of nervous laughter from the Intellectual Ventures human resources executives sitting at the next table. Geoduck can often have a chewy texture, but the long strips of geoduck that served as the "noodles" in this dish were as soft and pliable as fresh pasta. The two tablespoons of sauce provided such a deep essence of clam, it was like a big bowl of pasta vongole (one of my favorite dishes) reduced down to two bites.
14. "Squash Soup"
Served in a miniature tagine, this soup had a deeply caramelized taste, as though the squash had been deeply roasted before being made into soup. Not so, a company publicist told me. Instead, baking soda had been added to the soup while it cooked in a pressure cooker, and a chemical reaction caused the squash to take on the caramelized color and taste.
15. "Beef Stew"
"Modernist Cooking" devotes many pages to new methods for making stocks, an important building block in haute cuisine. This soup demonstrated some of the advances the team has made: Instead of a brown stock to represent the beef, this broth was as red as the juices that collect on the plate after a steak is cooked. The taste was clean and beefy, not bloody, though the color reminded me of blood. It was a bit of a challenge to overcome my expectations while eating this dish—I'll admit to being put off by that hue —but the flavor was so pure and beefy, I told myself I was being ridiculous and should just enjoy the purity of the beef flavor.
16. "Shellfish Bisque"
Mr. Myhrvold initially became interested in modernist cuisine while investigating sous vide cooking, a method that involves vacuum-packing ingredients and then submerging them in a controlled water bath. Using this method, the team made an intense shellfish stock by placing the stock ingredients inside a vaccuum-sealed bag and then heating that bag in the water bath. In this way, flavor molecules cannot escape--they have nowhere to go but into the liquid within the pouch. The addition of citrus peel gave it a slight bouillabase flavor. Delicious.
Ryan Matthew Smith, Modernist Cuisine
Cream of Mushroom
17. "Cream of Mushroom"
The little glass cup looked like it was filled with a cappuccino—it had a deep coffee-colored liquid on the bottom and a thick layer of white foam on top. All the umami-characteristics of mushroom concentrated in a warming soup.
18. "Polenta with Marinara"
The polenta, made in a pressure cooker which mean it wasn't stirred and fussed over, was cooked in stock made from corn husks, to give it an extra corn flavor. After all this sophisticated, high-concept food, this dish was a return to earth. The incredibly creamy, corn-y polenta was topped with a dollop of slightly-sweet marinara sauce. Great comfort food.
INTERLUDE: TASTING OF MEAT JUICES
Each guest was presented with a plastic stand filled with three tall, thin beakers, each of which were filled with a dark-brown liquid. Mr. Myhrvold passed out cards that had three questions printed on them. The cards asked which "jus" we liked best, which we thought had been reduced, and which we thought had no beef in it. I tasted all. The first "jus" was thick and unctuous, very rich in beef flavor. I liked that one best. The second one tasted very intense—I thought that one had been reduced (I was wrong, actually; it was the first one) and the third one was saltier than the others, leading me to believe it was "fake" and contained no beef (wrong again).
19. "Cocoa Pasta with Sea Urchin"
This arresting dish featured wide, flat noodles made with cocoa powder, topped with bright yellow pieces of sea urchin. I would never have considered pairing chocolate and seafood, but the deep, dark taste of the chocolate actually worked well with the intense deep-sea taste of the urchin. It was a question of pairing bold with bold. It worked, but I could only eat a few bites. If I finished that dish, between its richness and its powerful flavors, I knew I couldn't eat another bite.
20. "Mushroom Omelet"
Surely the most beautiful dish of the meal. "This is the Martha Stewart dish," Mr. Myhrvold said, making me think he meant its pretty, preppy design of egg-yellow and mushroom-brown stripes captured the style maven's aesthetic. What he actually meant was that he had recently demonstrated how to make it on Martha Stewart's television show. It lay over a dish of fluffy eggs and tasted of buttery, fresh mushrooms
21. "King Salmon with Spiced Butter"
Ryan Matthew Smith, Modernist Cuisine
King Salmon with Spiced ButterYou would think with all this food, I would have reserved my dwindling appetite for only the zaniest dishes. But I found myself digging in and nearly licking my plate with this one. It was nothing too out there: A perfectly cooked piece of king salmon, in all its fatty glory, with silky beurre blanc.
The team drew our attention to chickens that had been partially cooked and were now hanging, Pekin-duck style, in order to dry out their skins. Then they were placed in a combi-oven, which soon began smoking like crazy. The chicken emerged juicy and tender, with skin as thin and crispy as chicken-flavored glass. The sauce, we were told, was made unctuous not from the application of butter, which is typical in such sauces, but by using chicken fat. That meant its taste was pure chicken. Chefs often avoid serving chicken at haute cuisine restaurants, considering its taste too mild and common, but this treatment elevated the dish.
23. "Pastrami and Sauerkraut"
Before Mr. Myhrvold was a haute cuisine fanatic, he spent time obsessing over barbecue, working the competition circuit. His bona fides in this area came through here. A square cube of pastrami, incredibly tender and packed with the unique, cured taste of pastrami. I bit into a puffy crisp and got a mouthful of rye bread taste, without the heavy dryness that is typical of rye. A few leaves of Brussels sprouts and a bite of sauerkraut made it a trip to Katz Deli without the heartburn.
24. "BBQ"
This dish featured a pork rib and a slice of smoked brisket, and two sauces: A grainy-mustard based sauce and a vinegary, North Carolina -style sauce. The meat was very smoky and very tender—you could eat it with a spoon. I loved the mustard sauce—it had a lot of body and enough vinegar to cut through the richness.
25. "Goat Milk Ricotta, Pea Juice, Pea Butter Toast, Cinnamon Oil"
We were onto the dessert courses, but as pretty as this composition of snowy white ricotta and dazzlingly green pea tendrils was, I wasn't looking forward to it: My old prejudice against savory desserts was back with a vengeance. The dish was served along with some thin toasts spread with "pea butter," which actually contains no butter at all. It is produced by spinning tons of peas in a centrifuge, which divides the particles into heavy sediment, liquid juice, and fatty "butter," a concentration of the soft part of the peas. In spite of my reservations, I loved the whole dessert. The pea butter was just like it sounds: Buttery in texture, but with a bright, fresh pea flavor. Very refreshing and clean tasting. The ricotta and pea tendrils were mild, fresh and light.
26. "Pistachio Gelato, Cocoa Nibs, Black Olive"
Mr. Myhrvold came by the table and described the unique proposition of this ice cream: Instead of mixing pistachios with cream or milk, the team made the gelato with pistachio oil, which gave the ice cream an intense pistachio flavor. I can't say I loved the black olive garnish—they tasted like little bits of black liquorices and I opted to avoid them. But the gelato set a new standard for pistachio ice cream.
27. "Coffee Crème Brulee"
This was another dessert that upended my expectations: I love coffee, but tend to dislike coffee-flavored desserts because they often have a burned-coffee taste, I find. Mr. Myhrvold agreed and said the coffee was cold-brewed to avoid that. The crust of the crème brulee shattered onto rich custard lightly flavored with the complex aromas of freshly-brewed coffee.
28. "Cannelés"
Cannelés are an interesting dessert even made the traditional way: They are rich little cinnamon flavored cakes that are baked to a point of nearly burning the outside. For some reason, that burned taste is pleasing and part of their charm. This version, made in a high-tech smoker, captured the unique combination of burned bread and cinnamon in ideal cannelés which were deeply carmelized without any acrid notes that can accompany burned food.
29. "Caramel Mou"
Remember that horrible, hilarious scene in " Monty Python 's The Meaning of Life" where a waiter urges an over-stuffed customer to eat "just one thin mint?" When this platter came out, covered with paper-thin, nearly translucent wisps of caramel, I wondered if I could manage even one. Not to worry—I did . The flavor, a combination of sweet and salty, and the quick-melting texture, made them highly edible.
30. "Gummy Worms"
These worms , made out of a gelatinized oil, were molded on real fisherman's lure molds, and looked just like the gummy worms kids eat. Fun, but I didn't love the oiliness or strong vanilla flavor.
After the meal, I waddled off to my hotel, giddy not with wine but withall the new experiences, tastes, ideas and challenges that the meal proposed. It was unique.
Write to Katy McLaughlin at
katy.mclaughlin@wsj.com 
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