saturday, september 20th, 2008

Chef Carlo Cracco, of Milan's Ristorante Cracco: Seafood Salad

This week I attended the International Starchefs Congress which took place in the Park Avenue Armory in New York. The space is raw and massive and I thought it a fitting reflection for what the organizers were trying to capture: a kitchen without boundaries. It was a dynamic conference to be sure, with a shiny celebrity chef around every corner. The lineup on the main stage included, among others, Heston Blumenthal, Marco Pierre White, Anthony Bourdain, Grant Achatz, Charlie Trotter, Masaharu Morimoto, Daniel Boulud, Carlo Cracco, Enrique Olvera, Rick Moonen and Marcus Samuelsson.

Main Stage discussions included Blumenthal's demo of Bacon and Egg Ice Cream along with Sound of the Sea, two dishes that I helped bring to The Fat Duck's tables when I was a stage there. Sound of the Sea includes a conch shell accompaniment with an Ipod tucked inside that plays a melody of crashing waves and screaming gulls as the customer eats their course of seaweed, shellfish and foam, suspended on a glass rectangle above a layer of edible sand. I always thought it a bit gimicky to see the waiters rush to the tables with massive conch shells in their hands during service, but it plays into the restaurant's exploration of providing their guests a multi-sensory experience. Heston played a show previously aired on the BBC that explored his quest for Christmas; particularly, the search for frankincense, gold and myhr.

His journey took him to the far reaches of the world and culminated in a holiday dinner that included a spoon carved out of the myhr tree (the chef found myhr too bitter to incorporate as a taste element into the meal), a bar of gold leaf that dissolved into a sparkling soup, and a garnish of frankincense. Not wanting the audience to feel left out, the chef sent the aroma of frankincense out into the crowd with the help of dry ice. He also tucked a packet under each chair containing a sheet of frankincense that dissolved on the tongue and must be how it tastes to lick the flesh of a tree dripping with sap (not that I've ever done this, or at least would ever admit to having done this). The packet also contained an ivory disc that resembled a communion wafer. Having had more than my share of these pasted to the roof of my mouth when I got bored as a kid and started playing around with them at church after communion, it was a bit disconcerting that the wafer was meant to smell and taste like a freshly washed baby. If a freshly washed baby tastes like soap stirred up with silly putty, dusted with talcum powder, than this is exactly what it tasted like.

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