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Bite the AntennaModern serviceware from Crucial Detail |
Diners at Chicago’s Alinea restaurant expect to taste the unexpected: butterscotch and bacon; juniper and quince, rabbit and the smell of burning leaves. But when that food arrives on the table punctured by and suspended on wobbling spikes and clusters of wires in place of plates and cutlery, they’re surprised.
Chef/owner Grant Achatz collaborated with designer Martin Kastner and his Crucial Detail studio to create a line of intimidating, convoluted, yet delightful serviceware. Recently these pieces became available to the general public.
The prices are high. But compared with more traditional specialty serviceware, such as Thomas Keller’s dishware, which includes a small porcelain spoon for $39, the Crucial Detail pieces seem reasonable. Plus you don’t need to buy both plates and silverware when using them, because they serve as both. They’re made of stainless steel, so they aren’t likely to scratch, chip, or break, and they can go in the dishwasher. They can be buffed to look shiny and new, after they’re not.
Although the pieces are futuristic looking, your cooking doesn’t have to be. They’d transform chicken nuggets, Swedish meatballs, or pork rinds into sculptural pieces. They’re best used, however, with adventurous food served for an audience. Best of all, they’re true conversation pieces—the most desirable ingredient at any dinner party. Some assembly is required.
Squid
Crucial Detail, $35
A small but heavy upright cylindrical base about the diameter of a quarter anchors six wire prongs. A wafer-thin perforated disc that slides up and down holds these vertical wires together. The Squid was designed to embrace a delicate batter-fried morsel while allowing air to flow around it.
For a futuristic Thanksgiving, you could suspend chunks of sous-vide cooked turkey thighs fried in a tempura batter, seasoned with crushed deep-fried sage leaves, skewered onto a smoking branch that diners could grab as they would a handle. Of course, make sure it’s no longer on fire when served.
Bow
Crucial Detail, $35
The Bow is a wire stretched across a rockinghorse-like base. To “plate” your food on the Bow, you may need to poke a hole through the item with the tip of paring knife, then thread your dish on the crosswire. The Bow was created to show off the translucence of some of Alinea’s dishes—for instance, a nearly transparent and shatteringly crispy slice of Nueske’s bacon suspended with a drizzle of butterscotch holding thin ribbons of dehydrated apple purée and a tiny thyme leaf.
Antenna
Crucial Detail, $25
The Antenna gets a big crowd reaction at Alinea—usually nervous laughter followed by dead silence. Servers instruct diners to lean in and wrap their mouths around a single long, menacing-looking wire—without using their hands. It’s like a modern version of bobbing for apples.
The Antenna is meant to force diners to focus on a single bite—which they will do for fear of skewering an eye or a nostril. In the process, they’re meant to discover the progression of flavors and textures that Achatz has strategically planned by the layered placement of chunks and tiny garnishes on the skewer.
Picture this: a mouthful of ginger syrup glazed Delicata squash topped with toasted homemade marshmallow and dusted with Microplaned Marcona almond served on the quivering Antenna. Not your grandmother’s Thanksgiving marshmallow dish.
You have got to be kidding me! Barry Wine did this lame stuff on a gullible at the Quilted Giraffe 20 years ago when he served the caviar "Beggar's Purses" on the candellabra... and told you to eat them without using fingers, forks or chopsticks. He'd take a Polaroid of the ridiculous looking sheep, sucking up their overpriced appetizers, and put the photos into an album that sat at the bar. "Oh, look at me, acting like a fool!"
To paraphrase Henry David Thoreau, beware any new culinary creation which requires new dishes.
Its like your own private Alinea! Be sure to have plenty of napkins around...and a polaroid is still probably a good idea.
I could see using the Antenna for Smores....
I could see using attenas to beat the chef for doing this to his food. All this dressing up of food seems to be meant to cover the fact that the food itself isn't all that special. Go to Blue Hill in NYC or someplace that respects the ingredients first. If I serve White Castle sliders with flaming catapults, can I open a trendy new restaurant? I'd rather have someone slap perfectly braised meats onto my paper plate with a splat of fine polenta and I'll be more than happy. I don't want to come up with a plan of attack as to how to actually EAT my meal.
Sommelier - to further bastardize Thoreau - how vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to eat. For anyone who hasn't tried it yet, what have you got to lose? One bite? Your pride? Prejudices? From my experience, I'll tell you that it can be personally revealing. I will admit that the first two times I ate off the Antenna I just grabbed the wire and took the bite. The last time was in the kitchen at Alinea, with Chef Grant Achatz watching and cameras rolling for Gourmet's Diary of a Foodie. Having to focus on taking that bite hands-free was a fascinating personal moment - which is precisely the intent. And it can just be a personal experience - even I believe that not everything needs to be documented, neither by Polaroid, blog, nor YouTube.
"Things do not change; we change." - Thoreau
brimox - for your own private Alinea, get some really nice heavy Irish linen napkins.
Leper - French Laundry S'mores? ;)
aklein - the food at Alinea is pretty damned special - with a tremendous respect for the ingredients.
Ms. Chu: I'm sure that the food at Alinea is fine and that there is a respect for the ingredients. However, I have to wonder how much time is spent thinking about tightropes, wires and safety nets and how much on the food itself. In the least, I feel that this atmosphere would be a distraction to the food itself, not an enhancement. I didn't mean to insult the quality of the food or the chef's talents, I just get very skeptical when gimmicks (yes, I said it) are brought into to the table, literally. I'm sure it fascinating, interesting and unique, I just don't have much interest or respect for this kind of restaurant experience. I could take the finest piece of foie, perfectly and uniquely prepared, and loft it high into the air to have the patron catch it in his/her mouth, hands free---would that make the food better?
aklein - you may be surprised then at just how much time chefs spend thinking about plates, silverware, and crystal. I mean, come on now, Blue Hill is hardly street food.
As far as the finest foie gras is concerned, I can't tell you how many kilos I've slipped to fellow cooks in the form of post-service sandwiches. Sometimes it tasted like the best thing we'd ever eaten, other times we choked it down hardly noticing. The point being that so many factors can affect one's personal pleasure with food.
This is fun, but I have only a little gas left on this subject... I know how much goes into the planning of the table settings and food service. Sometimes I appreciate it and sometimes it's just another means for a trendy restaurant to charge a few bucks more per plate. I was unfortuate enough to dine at V Steakhouse in NYC before it thankfully closed and, while the table setting was top notch, the steaks were nothing to write home about (nor was the service). I've had better elsewhere for less dough and on inferior china.
My point is that antennas and trampolines are a fun yet gimmicky distractions. I acknowledge the beauty of a well-set table but I remember the food. If my first thought after dinner is that the flatware was impressive or the water glasses were pretty, then the chef has failed his customers and the food itself. I don't like paper plates, but I think fine food deserves to be presented with respect to the food itself and the diners, not in lieu of what amounts to a sideshow.
Thanks for the back-and-forth, though I won't change my mind and neither will you!