Is Molecular Gastronomy Just a Parlor Trick?

This term has been bandied about the food world these days and although I have a general concept about what it is, I had yet to actually taste food branded as molecular gastronomy, that is until last Saturday night.


The concept of molecular gastronomy is relatively simple: a scientific exploration of the processes by which food is cooked, presented and tasted. It's been around since physicist Nicholas Kurti coined the term in 1988 because of his basic assertion that:

" it is a sad reflection on our civilization that while we can and do measure the temperature in the atmosphere of Venus we do not know what goes on inside our soufflés."

I'm not going to try and attempt to give a history lesson here (you can find it here), I merely wanted to draw attention to the fact that the science of studying food, which has made it's way into mainstream kitchens, has firm roots in science. This style of cooking is definitely trendy, and with each discovery comes a revelation, but underneath it all I want to know that it's more than just a parlor trick. The fact that it is rooted in science tells me it's not, but eating is believing.

The food at Colborne Lane, in Toronto, certainly was not. We had some friends visiting from Vancouver and they are used to eating at places like Vij's and Salt, so we wanted to take them to a place worth remembering, and it was.

Each item on the menu contained an array of flavors, uniquely combined to create perfect bites. I had seared Sea Scallops with sweet chili, citrus fruit, coconut milk and licorice yogurt. Other dishes included squid with peanut brittle or lamb medallions with quinoia.

The real trickery lay in what was presented for desert: lemon creme fraiche sorbet made at your table with a bowl of liquid nitrogen. It was quite a show, the whole table was covered in a campy horror movie mist while our server madly stirred the mixture, producing one spoonful of the best ice cream I have ever had.

The funny part was that his efforts produced about a pint of ice cream which he then took a away to be "plated", but he came back with a minuscule amount of sorbet with a couple of Timbits. The question in all of our minds was "What do you do with the rest?" In the end the question faded into memory as we polished off the rest of our wine. We were paying for the display, the showmanship, not the quantity. If we wanted a tub of ice cream why not just go to Loblaws?

So it seems that although this new style of cooking has sound roots in scientific principles, there is an essential component of showmanship. And why wouldn't there be? This scientific type of cooking has been happening for decades, silently, behind closed doors in food labs such as Kraft or McDonald's.