Welcome to San Francisco - Welcome to the Houseku

We left Chicago exhausted but with a profound sense of accomplishment. We had lost Mayur to rug replacement and some kind of warranty battle with an ice cream maker and we made our way to the smaller of the city’s two airports. Excited by heading home and being able to get some Potbelly’s sandwiches and Chicago style hot dogs before our flight would leave.

Without rest or comfort, just hours after we woke, we fought with all our strength to not overwhelm our conversation with talk of our trip to San Francisco the following weekend. There were many things we had learned over the past 72 hours and many new challenges that lay ahead. Spurred on by the staff of Alinea and our new-found confidence in our recipes, we set forth into reworking our next event to try and overcome that last 20%.

Cathy Erway

It was decided that we would be hosting one large meal in San Francisco as the space was large and majestic with two separate kitchens that could handle the task of serving thirty people twenty-five courses. We would be executing two dishes that required finding 20 liters of liquid nitrogen, which because of work and scheduling issues, we would not able to test until the day of the event.

Daniel was not going to be able to make it, as he had to return Colombia to check on Emilia Romagna and finalize some details for the new restaurant he would be opening in Cartagena that summer called Vera.

Jonny Cigar

Mayur as well had to succumb to the demands of real life and was relegated to cooking with us every night in preparations for the event but was not able to come with us.

In their place were three of the most enjoyable human beings I have ever met, Andrew Rosenberg, Cathy Erway and Jonny Cigar. Along with two San Francisco locals Keiko Takano and Jen Freeman as well as Melissa M. Martin, a friend of a friend who flew in from New Orleans we had assembled a formidable team to once again try to climb this great mountain of a meal.

Andrew Rosenberg

Once again our flight was scheduled to leave at some ungodly hour and having learned from our last experience with TSA, we were much better prepared for travels. It had been three weeks now where I was sleeping less than a handful of hours during any given night and the long sparsely filled flight was the perfect place for me to fall off into oblivion. All of my dreams were laced with frozen spheres of chewy candy canes or licorice syrup and seared scallops fueled by Brian and Akiko’s heated discussion of the best process and procedure for tackling this new menu. Jonny sat quietly a few seats away polishing his tie and reciting what I assumed was French poetry – delicately dancing with the elegant pronunciations in a way that was only possible by a man that learned to speak English in upstate New York farm country.

San Francisco provided us with the exact opposite weather conditions from Chicago, welcoming us with warm sunshine and soft floral sea breezes that made Jonny’s poetry seem all the more salient, I would assume. We picked out another very nice late model Minivan in a glistening shade of metallic dirty and headed off to find the Houseku and home for our final recreation.

In the Kitchen at Alinea

One week ago, I was standing in a kitchen of apartment off Lake Shore. It was the second coldest day of the past 15 years and we were deep into our preparations for our Chicago recreation meal, which would be attended by one of the contributors to the Alinea cookbook and one of the sous chefs I worked with in my short stage.

In a Kitchen on Lake Shore Drive

Today I am standing in a farmers market, with a hint of the ocean breezing past me. It is threatening to become February and I am in short sleeves and with a cold beverage sweating over my fingers. The intense selection of organic and local produce betrayed my current location and deliciousness that the northern California weather was pouring upon us was a brilliant release from the brutality of winter.

Where to find Liquid Nitrogen

It would fall on Jonny and I to handle all of provisioning, as we were the only two cleared to drive the rental Town and Country and use the credit cards. Being San Francisco, the only real problem was choosing which amazing market to frequent and where to find liquid nitrogen.

Being on the west coast was the most delightful way to end this extreme cross-country tour. Except for the fact that we were cooking 6 new dishes that we would not have a chance to test until the moment we were serving them.

In hindsight this seems like an amazingly stupid move. In actuality it was based upon an intense trust of the ability of our knowledge, team and specifically the talent of Brian Sullivan. Brian was extremely proficient in the modern ingredients and techniques and was driven beyond all to recreate these mystical dishes to the exacting letter of the minds that created them. So with just a few long conversations stolen on flights and some casual note taking, the two of us had planned our the execution of the new set of dishes. The vague brutality of the naked ingredients and conceptual executions was exciting in it own right but turned out to be the crowning achievement of this final event.

Proficiency in modern techniques for napping

Thomas Keller's - "Galette" Hudson Valley Moulard Duck Foie Gras, Italian Pistachio "Financier," Compressed Red Sensation Pear and Garden Mache

Driving through the brittle cold, we wove our way from our small sandwich haven to the bowels of Chicago to a brilliant little high end market that was our key dispensary for mousse de foie gras and a couple of other little baubles that we might be needing for our evenings adventure.

Parking was not an option so as Kathryn made her way through the market I ran through the evening in my head. When we first embarked on this quest I had been in contact with the owner of Alinea about photos, flavors and what have you. In exchange for some much needed advice he asked if he could reserve to seats at one of our meals to give away in a raffle to an employee at their holiday party. I had forgotten about this until the day I showed up for my stage and was introduced to sous chef Andrew Graves. Quiet and incredibly professional, it was a few moments into my trailing of him that he let me know that he was the one who won the seats and he was really looking forward to seeing how we interpreted their food.

Over the 24 hours I spent working at Alinea in two days, I came to respect Andrew an enormous amount. As the shallow winter daylight slipped away, the reality of serving one of the Alinea chefs, who is responsible for the original dinners, created a tight knot around my midsection. Would there be enough salt, would the potatoes be hot enough, would we be able to serve our meal or would I seek his support and interaction? Clearing decisions by him, making him taste, poke, prod and not just relax and enjoy his evening?

The door burst open with a crisp bite of cold and the elegant aroma of the hot beverage Kathryn carried along with the sundry in a much smaller bag than I would have imagined. Still lost in thought I was mildly silent as the lake chased along our right side in varied tones of frigid blue. I was stuck in contemplation over the other guest for the evening whose opinion I was extremely interested in hearing.

Black Truffle Explosion Process

His name is Michael Nagrant, and he was asked by Grant Achatz to write one of the forward sections of his groundbreaking cookbook. The specific section he wrote was about the “Black Truffle Explosion,” one of the dishes we would be serving that night and one of the most unique and ingeniously simple pasta applications I had every encountered.

He was also in attendance at the meal served at Alinea just one month before, but instead of being in the kitchen, he was a guest – able to savor the same courses we would be serving. Unlike Mr. Graves, he wasn’t preparing he was eating and over the course of the series of recreations we served he would be the only person that ate both the initial meal and our interpretations.

As we fought for parking, a few miles north of the city, just inches away from Lake Shore Drive, my phone exploded in a cacophony of delayed messages. It had been trapped in the netherworld, designed by Apple and AT&T to remind us of how much we loved our beautiful telecommunication devices and how terribly useful they were. It seemed although our guests were not set to arrive for a few hours Mr. Nagrant had come by early to get dirty and participate in the exact portion of the Alinea meal that he had originally missed.

Arms full the elevator broke us into a pile of giggling and warm deliciousness. Something sweet was toasting into a caramel and its burnt candied notes were fighting with baking of yeast and simmering vegetables to see which would assail our senses first and most thoroughly.

Without many moments for pleasantries, I stumbled into the kitchen, with a warm hello from everyone and the handful of premature guests who were happily working their way through the mis en place for the night. Michael was grinning wide with a camera in hand and keen eye for capturing the ridiculousness that was evolving.

Daniel, was also full of gregariousness while he walked me around the kitchen and letting me know where we were in our preparations and list of issues we would have to creatively solve before service. Our $200 dollar Sauterne had found its way into our shellfish fumé, ruining both, our refrigerator (laundry room) had now taken to directly reflecting the outside temperature and was hovering around -10C, turning it into a freezer and crystallizing a few of the more delicate gels that would have to be replaced and worrying us all that a second flood was imminent from a frozen pipe, and someone had dropped caramel ice cream all over the floor in what was a tragic yet magically entertaining explosion.

Nothing was too dire and as it seemed Daniel had managed to create interesting and appropriate solutions to all of the problems at hand. I set forth into a flurry of movement preparing the front of house and getting the platting and staging areas ready for the never-ending pile of food that would be served over the next four hours.

Then without real drama or tragedy we served twenty-five courses of some of the most technically difficult food in the world. With a warm group of extremely interested guests, after each course the room was alive with help. Plating, preparing and story telling were danced around and embraced. The hours poured past and the wine was drained from every bottle we had access to, with a slight turn to the syrupy and charred bourbon that was replacing the delicate fruit of the sauterne.

Not being a man of subtle stature after a long evening of cookery and drinking, I confronted our two distinguished guests in their drunken and sated state. Mr. Graves had entered a state of relaxed conversation but was beyond reserved with his words and was quickly overpowered by Mr. Nagrant’s firm opinions and statements. With a stereo just feet behind me struggling to accomplish the herculean task of providing dance party beat from speakers measured in millimeters, he cleared his throat and made sure I knew that he was impressed. In his opinion, if we had been able to recreate 20% of the flavors, textures and concepts behind the dishes then we would have at least have provided an equal level of value, but he was very proud to announce that our meal had been executed to 80% of the original. With a few misses that he described as diametric interpretations of the ingredients or preparations, which were good but nothing like the original.

Savory to Sweet Course - Raspberry and Rose I Bacon, Apple and Thyme

He then walked me through the event from the tableside at Alinea, describing the majesty and pomp that created the elegant air of perfection at the meal, juxtaposing that to the open kitchen and participatory nature of our meal. With a struggle in his voice he informed me that he could not figure out which experience he enjoyed more. It was with this amazing compliment that I let Paper Planes over take me and dance along with the rest of the crowd, rejoicing in their accomplishment of either serving or eating that night’s meal.

Our team with the chef's at Alinea

Prep-list for from Saturday January, 2009 - Photo: Michael Nagrant

Saturday morning started for me in a mid-priced hotel about a mile from the location of our dinner. It has been said that the best coffee shop in Chicago was right around the corner from us – this I cannot confirm or deny. Having entered bed well after 3:00am I was slow to rise when my alarm started making robot noises at 9:00am. It was when I reached over to quiet the singing machine that I noticed that I had missed a handful of calls and text messages from Daniel who stayed in our host’s condo with some of the rest of our team the night before. It was clear from the series of messages that he was trying to explain to me that there was a flood of biblical proportions at the apartment and I needed to come quickly.

After volley of retaliatory missed calls and text messages, I collected myself and prepared for a day during which I would be cooking in what I could only imagine was waist-deep water. Collecting a couple gallons of coffee from the aforementioned purveyor we dove head first into what could have only been a nightmare.

Upon breaking into the confines of our temporary home, I was relieved to see that there was no standing water and the only real causality for the evening was everyone’s sleep and a rug of Crate and Barrel origin. Since I had not been there I leave it to Mayur Subbarao to recount the evenings happenings to you:

Now it was late. Twenty-four courses of culinary madness served and cleared, no thanks to my own rather comical blunders: Cacao spheres in trays that had miraculously managed to invert 90 degrees onto their sides; a freezer-bowl full of cuit sous vide caramel ice cream base that had shot itself out of the freezer door all over me, my fellow dessert cooks, and the floor.

Now it was quiet; most of the cooks, including our fearless leaders Michael and Daniel, had left, and I was tidying up a few things in a kitchen that was dead silent, except for the sloshing and gurgling of a washing machine full of aprons, napkins, and caramel-soaked rags.

Hm, not so much of a sloshing and gurgling any more. More of a splashing and rushing…

I turned around to see what looked like a wave of water issuing forth from the utility room. I think I must have screamed like a six-year-old girl, because Daniel and Akiko rushed into the kitchen in mere seconds, by which point I was already ankle-deep in water. I waded to the utility room in a frenzy, only to realize that there was an office between it and the kitchen. Computers! Arrgh! was the only thing running through my head as I grabbed everything that looked vaguely electronic and piled it on the desk. Daniel and Akiko were right behind me, moving away vulnerable objects and throwing down anything absorbent… most of which was currently in spin cycle in the washing machine that had caused this mess to begin with.

Having removed everything we could (it was too late for the poor rug, RIP), we went into the utility room only to realize that the pipe leading directly into the washing machine had come loose and was now shooting water all over the place. By the time I fixed it, I looked like I’d been thrown into a swimming pool fully-dressed, and the 30-degree temperature inside the utility room was certainly not agreeing with me. Meanwhile, however, the crisis had decidedly separated the professionals from the amateurs; Daniel and Akiko were calmly mopping up the flood and cleaning the kitchen (again).

“For heaven’s sake, this happens all the time at work,” said Akiko. “You don’t want to know what gets spilled on the floor in a given day. Just go to sleep and we’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

We turned in rather calmly, and it occurred to me that somehow, flying to Chicago to execute a 24-course dinner out of an apartment kitchen with a minimal staff of volunteers which involved chilling wine on a garage roof and setting up sous vide baths in a bathroom sink…

…had given me a sense of proportion.

The hot coffee sparked the minds of those who had to battle the deluge all night and we got to work in quick fashion. Hours slipped by, and sometime just after noon I excused myself to do a little grocery shopping and to meet, for the first time, my lovely lady friend’s father.

We were doing great on time having done most of the preparation the night before and I left Daniel, Brian, Akiko and Mayur to polishing off the last few things while Kathryn and I hit up the Treasure Island and made our way to a restaurant that only served small sandwiches for our rendezvous with her Dad.

I know the idea of scheduling such an important meeting on a day already filled to the brim with nervous tension, possible calamity and exhaustion seems reckless but life does not always allow you to choose the field for your greatest battles. I wasn’t too concerned because I had some inside information that let me know that we both liked Ayn Rand, specifically Atlas Shrugged, for what I could only assume was her pride in accomplishment, enduring work ethic and rape fantasy.

Needless to say the tiny sandwiches were small, talk was delightful and uplifting and as we broke from the small building and into the brutal cold I was alive with excitement. That night we would be serving diner to two of the only people in the world who could actually give us an honest comparison to the meal that we were trying to recreate and I was giddy in anticipation.

Brian Sullivan, checking courses 1-4 before service Photo: Sally Ryan

Upon arriving in Chicago, on Thursday 21 January,  2009, we were a flurry of action, transforming our lovely host’s beautiful condo into a functioning kitchen and dining room. We were again blessed with a painful cold snap, which we used to our benefit by turning what was supposed to be a washer and dryer room into a walk-in freezer by opening the windows. Seems silly but this open and flat cold space was the key to being able to make this apartment a functional space to serve the meal.

After many trips to the supermarket, wine store, fish monger, butcher, cheese monger, Treasure Island and Alinea for vacuum packing, we had gotten ourselves in a good place and were ready to receive our guests for the evening. In a stroke of luck two of our guests for the evening happened to be amazing photographers and provided us some amazing shots of our prep, the dinner and the plating of the courses.

Thomas Keller's - "Calotte De Boeuf Grillee" - Grant Achatz's - Lamb, Fennel, Pernod, Coffee-Scented Air - Photo: Adam Keats

I will save my words for evaluating our success or failures for Friday and leave it to Kyle Ryan from the Onion to give you his opinion. For what he missed from his drunken notes in terms of accuracy he makes up for in delicious creativity and having a wife who is a brilliant photographer. As it was we finished the night with a strong sense of accomplishment behind us and a great desire to attack Saturday’s event with fervor. We would be serving not only a sous chef from Alinea who cooked at all of the dinners we were recreating but one of the co-authors of the Alinea cookbook, local food writer and attendee of the original Alinea meal. The pressure was on but sleep came easy for me at least before what would become an amazingly ridiculous day.

Grant Achatz's - Spice Cake, Rum, Persimmon, Carrot - Photo: Sally Ryan

Grant Achatz's - Blackberry, Tobacco, Kola Nut, Nepitella

Time was lost and the minutes that were given to us to accomplish this herculean task seemed to be as inadequate as cocktail umbrellas in a hurricane. Fire was closing in on us from all sides and the pressure of was mounting by the second.

Grant Achatz's - Hot Potato-Cold Potato w/Chive, Butter, Truffle

On slightly warmer than desired morning of December 12th, 2008 we packed up our kitchen and moved it to the sight of the first of our dinners. Until now we had had the foresight to plan our events around the resources available to us: space, time, equipment, etc. In this case these seemingly simple luxuries were not an option.

Our host was gracious and provided us with and amazing amount of space; a beautiful modern kitchen in her amazing brand new north Brooklyn loft. We had access to an incredibly powerful six burner stove with a delicate oven, an unreasonable amount of stainless steel counter-tops (for this part of the world), a dish washer (which in and of itself was a godsend) and a very adequate sub-zero refrigerator who’s only contents were a few bottles of half imbibed liquor, mixers and some butter and cheese.

Menu with prep notes

To accomplish what Chef Keller and Achatz were able to execute at per se we had to supplement these tools with some of our own equipment. A complete list of items that were packed up and carried across Brooklyn would be mind-numbingly boring but here is a non-exhaustive attempt at giving some idea to what was required, in prose. Two immersion circulators, one set for meat and fish and one for vegetables for the first half of the meal and then reset for warming and holding for the second half. A forty liter tank of liquid nitrogen for turning white truffles into a snow, as we did not have the budget to buy fresh white truffles for the celery root puree. Six additional burners were added and stationed in a neighboring room creating a second line, allowing the simultaneously firing consecutive courses. Add on two blow torches, a laser inferred thermometer, a couple of Kitchen-Aids, a dehydrator and a selection of incredibly specific tableware that would make your head spin. We were finally ready to serve twenty-five courses of the most technically difficult and precise food conceived in this century.

Grant Achatz's - Black Truffle Explosion

After set-up was complete and we got the whole process rolling, things went as smoothly as you could imagine. With a few exceptions, we did what we thought was an amazingly admirable job with the time and information we had. As the first night came to a very late end, we were in a place of extreme exhaustion, yet happiness. Feeling confident, we ran head-first into the second dinner. Our mobile kitchen had been refined – almost completely eliminating the kinks that had occurred the first night, which only created space for a whole new set to come in and take their place.

Mark Losinger, Michael J Cirino, Daniel Castano, Akiko Moorman - by Jordana Rothman TimeOut NY

And so it was on the first night of Chanukah in 2008, Jordana Rothman a writer for TimeOut NY came to the first of our Breaking Bread and Boundaries series of dinners. She was skeptical and quiet letting the events unfold as they would, smiling in the corner and chatting among the 25 other guests.

I ask you to follow the link below to her brief review of the event paired with a conversation with the Chef from Alinea, Grant Achatz. After a quick read I have provided the answers to some questions posed, some clarifications and explanations for things brought up and a full exploration of the team with whom this would not have been possible. I encourage you to follow the links in Jordana’s first paragraph to get a better picture and clarification for what we were attempting.

A Razor, A Shiny Knife: Achatz’s take
By Jordana Rothman

“But ARASK’s attempt felt more deferential than presumptuous, particularly when presented by ringleader Mike Cirino, whose jocular trips over French menu descriptions were received warmly by this young, willing crowd.”

It is true I could not then and still struggle over pronouncing mille-feuille and this is even after hours of practice with my very patient fluent French speaking girlfriend, hours of abuse in the kitchen by a couple of the French speaking cooks who were working with us and a couple of hours in the car with a learn how to speak tape.

“we were impressed at the resulting meal, even if some of the more bold presentations didn’t coalesce (that sweet-potato tempura, for example, slid like melted ice cream from its cinnamon stick vessel)”

This was one of the only dishes from the meal that was actually in the Alinea cookbook and it was one that provided us with some of the most difficulty. Convincing gelatinized potato and whiskey puddings not to dissolve when deep fried was a long and tenuous battle which was eventually won by Brian Sullivan on the second night with a collection proper hydration techniques and huge muscles.

“Was it also a good opportunity to see your book put to use?
Ironically, not too many of the dishes in the menu are in the book. Most of the techniques certainly are. They are certainly being creative in their own way. They have budget constraints, plating limitations, equipment and space issues that all force creative solutions. How can you not applaud that?”

I have to admit that this was one of the hardest things to explain when speaking about the dinner to our friends, family and loved ones. It is one thing to cook a 25 course meal of your own creation, it is another to try and emulate what was done by these two brilliant men and their incredible teams. It was an honor to have Chef Achatz so succinctly explain the greatest challenges that we encountered while showing the core reason for our attempt in the first place.

“The Hot Potato is a rock-star effort. Complete with wax bowls even…nicely done! I think he should come and stage at Alinea for a couple days before his next dinner.… I might be able to show him a few tricks.”

And before the next dinner I did take him up on this offer, but more on this to come soon enough…

But first I would like to say thank you to everyone who participated in these first meals in New York and the research and practice that went into making them a reality. Without the intense commitment and dedication given by these lovely people none of this would have been possible.

Daniel Castaño – The two of us came up with this exhausting idea while driving to Boston one rainy afternoon so I blame him for a majority of sleepless nights, long hours testing recipes, fighting with purveyors, booking flights and credit card bills. But without Daniel none of this would have been possible and it was with his guidance and knowledge that allowed us to consistently create such great food.

Eugene Edele – Is a master chef and was able to help break down some of the more intricate flavor profiles and create unique and interesting ideas for the way the dishes might have been served from just a menu.

Matt Franco – Guided the wine selections and pairings based off of the original menus. One of the largest components of the original meals price was the brilliant and rare wines that were paired with the amazingly intricate food. Matt was able to recreate a similar experience with varietal and flavor balance while functioning on a fraction of the budget.

Kristen Hager – helped with logistics and promotions and was instrumental in making sure that the word got out about our meals in every city. Her deft knowledge of wine and service made her to be a key part of our front of house team in NY.

Mark Losinger – Was intricate in the cooking and execution of evening’s menus. Whether butchering beef, lobster or fish, working the sauté station or teaching people about the variety of nonsense they were watching being assembled in front of them.

Kathryn Mahoney – tirelessly supported the entire team throughout the research and development stages of the event in a myriad of ways and led the front of house at the event, creating an atmosphere of comfort and flawless services for the guests who partook in a twenty-five course, five hour meal.

Akiko Moorman – was driven not only to create recipes that were reminiscent to the original per se  meal but also making the ingredients used to cook those the best local and sustainable products. She was critical in not only the execution, but the creation of the recipes which we served and was an invaluable member of team at every meal.

William Oberlin – with Brian Sullivan designed the replicas of Martin Kastner’s beautiful serving pieces and built all of them by hand at his studio in North Brooklyn.

Mayur Subbarao – is a pastry chef extraordinaire amongst his other talents which are many. He was responsible for a majority of the recipe writing and development in the confectionary sections of the menu and was the only team member to have eaten ate all three of the restaurants who’s menus we were recreating. His tireless efforts and creative were instrumental to making this meal happen.

Brian Sullivan – single-handedly took command of writing and testing most of the modern cooking recipes that we executed over the course of these dinners. His passion for cooking and designed drove the creativity in the team and his dedication to perfection created a standard that we all strove to attain with every dish. His input on the service piece design, kitchen equipment set up and his flawless execution at meal time made him a crucial part of every event and without him none of this would have been possible.

Here is a collection of photos from TimeOut NY and our own cameras from the New York events.