A molecule in the kitchen

Molecular gastronomy is a complete experience — it’s dining where all the senses are employed or,at least,should be. And it’s dining when one’s senses cannot be entirely trusted. But that’s my pedestrian interpretation; surely there is more craft to it than that?

I speak to chef Apoorva Kunte,who has been in the business for six years and has managed to create a little buzz around him. He first heard of molecular gastronomy around four or five years ago when Heston Blumenthal’s The Fat Duck in the UK was making waves in the industry. The possibility that one could play around with the textures of food,surprising the guest in the bargain,while retaining the integrity of flavors,was unbelievable. Fresh out of a hotel school in India and after many arduous hours of practising the methods of traditional cookery (important,but alas,culinary schools in India are primarily devoted to the classical methods),molecular gastronomy captured his imagination. For his graduation programme he presented a Black Forest. But if you were expecting a cream-and-cherry-layered confection,think again. The one he served was vanilla Panna Cotta with a chocolate sorbet on the side,topped off with cherry-flavoured caviar. In case you’re wondering,he did pass the test. It’s about the palate,he tells me,and then explains incongruously: “It didn’t taste like a Black Forest,but it had all the flavours.” If you think this is chef gibberish,then you’re not alone. Doesn’t taste come from flavour? No,the molecular gastronomist believes that flavours come from the culinary memory stick that is built into our palates. So even though the textures may mislead,the palate recalls the flavours and the gastronomic experience is very similar.

When one encounters such passion from a young chef,for a method of cookery,you have to wonder why this trend is such a non-starter. There are ubiquitous mentions of restaurants like Caperberry in Bangalore every time molecular gastronomy is mentioned,but the tribe doesn’t seem to increase. Bars like the popular Aqua at The Park,New Delhi,have had success with their molecular mixology drinks but with food we seem to draw a blank. Even restaurants that attempt molecular gastronomy have popular menus to sustain themselves; molecular gastronomy is reduced to a news peg and a menu special. There seems to be an absence of wholehearted commitment in India. Have chefs been defeated by the Great Indian Palate? Are we all a bunch of culinary autocrats,with eating habits refined by generations of custom? Are we defined by the nuanced differences like the variation in tempering of the basic daal from home to home?

The flavor route in India changes every 10 kilometers,Kunte tells me. We have been brought up with a very strong sense of texture and flavour and are all essentially control freaks when it comes to our palates. There are sociological implications as well — most urban Indians who are the intended demographic for this cuisine have access to domestic help and cooks,who peel,cut and season as per baba and baby’s specifications. We really don’t like to be surprised when it comes to food. Experimentation apart,there is also the idea of the full meal. Molecular gastronomy,with its trendy concepts of petit plates,defeats the whole purpose of value for money,and when kitchens are run as laboratories,and salt,rumored to be from the Jurassic era,are part of the staple ingredients,the experience isn’t exactly cheap. India is a country where buffets succeed for primarily one reason: the lure of all you can eat for a fixed rate. Molecular gastronomy with its sensory pleasures may have eventually been too extrasensory for the one thing Indian diners look for. It’s called value for money and that doesn’t come cheap or easy.

(Advaita Kala is an author and has worked in restaurants and kitchens in India and abroad)