Avant-garde adventure in cooking chemistry

By WILLIAM WEIR | Courant Staff Writer

February 3, 2008

NEW YORK - Molecular gastronomy is one of those things that I had heard about but never had any firsthand experience with. So I decided to try WD-50 in Manhattan's Lower East Side.

A movement that began in Europe in the 1990s, molecular gastronomy seeks to upend whatever assumptions we have about cuisine. It takes a scientific approach to cooking, experimenting with combinations of flavors that you wouldn't normally think to put together and examining how heat and other factors effect changes in food.

With a no-holds-barred approach to cooking, ingredients with names like methylcellulose, Xanthan gum and transglutaminase find their way into the mix. Lasers and liquid nitrogen can be deployed in the preparation. In Hartford, chef Noel Jones of ON20 (formerly the Polytechnic Club) has gotten raves for some of his molecular gastronomic creations.

Some of the dishes in molecular gastronomy can sound a bit outré, even kooky. But as it is with any kind of avant garde — music, fashion, etc. —- certain elements will fan out into the mainstream and become routine. Remember, lemon grass and chipotle once seemed kind of strange as well. Maybe bone marrow with honshemeji mushrooms (one of WD-50's offerings) will be considered comfort food one day.

In the United States, Wylie Dufresne, WD-50's owner and head chef, is probably the best-known practitioner of molecular gastronomy (even though the maitre d' told us Dufresne shies away from the term). Even before he opened WD-50 in 2002, Dufresne's unusual concoctions generated buzz at the restaurant where he was working, across the street.

Since then, creations like fried mayonnaise and foie gras tied in a knot have further shaped his reputation for culinary groundbreaking. He has been a competitor on "Iron Chef" (he lost to Mario Batali) and was a guest judge on Bravo's "Top Chef," where the runner-up named Dufresne as his hero.

Under the appetizers on the menu, I was first drawn to the popcorn soup listed at top. Popcorn soup! What could such a thing be? I couldn't even picture it. But further down, I saw fried quail with banana tartar. Bananas? Quail? It sounds odd. Well, when in Rome …

I got the quail. It was fantastic.

Just as counterintuitive, and just as good, the main course was ocean trout with a root beer-date sauce and black rice that had been ground down, pressed and fried into crunchy, chewy chunks.

A side of eggs Benedict came as a courtesy and was something of a puzzle. The waiter explained that the small gelatinous cube was the egg yolk, and the fried ones were hollandaise sauce. I wasn't crazy about the taste or the texture, but the curiousness of it all made up for this. And the fact that the fried hollandaise sauce was breaded with English muffin crumbs was a nice touch.

The dessert was ice cream made with beer, with a strip of soft white chocolate, sweetened avocado purée, malt and crumbled potato chips sprinkled about. Anywhere else, I would have taken a pass on something described that way, but WD-50 had more than won its right to a hearing. If bananas and quail are good together, and if dates and root beer make a great combination, who's to say potato chips and beer ice cream don't belong with each other? My new culinary open-mindedness paid off; it's the best dessert I've had in a while.

The restaurant was slow between 6 and 7 p.m., but business picked up considerably after that. Though Dufresne got a little testy when I didn't eat one of the appetizers right away (he sent someone out to tell me that it's best eaten while still warm), the staff was top-notch. The hostess gave perfect directions when I called late after seriously misjudging the subway route. And the waiter and maitre d' were about as knowledgeable as you could hope for.

So is it worth it? Two drinks, two appetizers, a main course and dessert came to $106, before tip. That's kind of pricey, but what do you want? It's New York, and the chef's on TV. And where else are you going to get root beer-date sauce?

WD-50 is at 50 Clinton St., in New York City. Reservations are recommended; www.WD-50.com, 212-477-2900.

Contact William Weir at bweir@courant.com.