The Joys of Molecular Gastronomy

Heston Blumenthal has been my ultimate Food Hero ever since I saw his first appearance on the television show Full on Food when I realised that truly, this man doesn't make things like snail porridge for a gimmick, he truly understands the science behind food, and isn't scared to show it. This is a man who can take two of my least favourite things - salmon and liquorice - put them together on a plate and make me desperate to try them, so a pilgrimage to the Fat Duck has been a dream of mine for a while, one made real at my recent birthday.

Having persuaded four friends to remortgage their homes (nearly :-P) so that we could all go for the extravagant Tasting Menu, we presented the kitchen with an interesting mix of faddiness - one person who wouldn't eat fish at all, one who would eat shellfish but not 'real' fish, and one who would eat normal fish but not shellfish. Having been forewarned (I'd managed to blag Heston's PA's email address at some point much earlier) the predictably French maitre'd rallied well and the kitchen did Heston proud, with not only necessary variations from the normal menu to suit our peculiarities, but also with a selection of unscheduled amuse bouches that threatened to overwhelm our straining stomachs.

The menu was varied, demanding and just a touch insane, or it would have been were it not that every single course was divine, causing all five of us to moan, laugh or simply shake our heads in wonder at the inspired alchemy behind it all. The meal started with the infamous Nitrogen-poached green tea & lime 'mousse', poached expertly á table in a bowl overflowing with dry ice like something from a mad professor’s laboratory. To my astonishment, it had a crunchy exterior, like a regular meringue, but which vanished almost instantly in the mouth with a slight fizz.

Next came something quite scary for me, Oyster, in passion fruit jelly with lavender, served in the shell. I’ve had bad experiences with oyster before (first chew good, second chew yum, third chew *retch*) and I was determined not to make a fool of myself at the shrine of molecular gastronomy, so the technique was simple – swallow whole. I almost wished I hadn’t, the sharp sweetness of the passionfruit, with the subtle hint of lavender, coupled with the seawater saltiness and meatiness of the oyster was just magnificent, and I licked the shell clean (& then ran outside to call my mother to boast - ever the child am I!)

Next came Grain mustard ice cream with red cabbage gazpacho, quite simply one of the best things I have ever ever tasted, and then a Jelly of quail, langoustine cream, parfait of foie gras, a savoury melange of which you had to capture every layer in each spoonful to fully appreciate it. At this stage, I knew what was coming next, and I was more apprehensive than at any other time in the meal, the course that could defeat me - Snail porridge with joselito ham and shaved fennel.

I have seen (again on ‘Full on Food’) Heston B cook every stage of the dish, from poaching the snails in an aromatic stock, to making the ‘porridge’ and finishing it with crispy ham and fennel in a walnut vinaigrette, and was comfortable with every part – except the snails. Have you ever looked at a snail? It was a brave (and presumably starving) man who first risked eating one of the rubbery looking things. And in truth, even after gentle braising at the hands of the master, the thing most noticeable about them was the texture, but no matter – the dish was a triumph, with every layer of flavour working hard to boost the little mollusc above it’s humble origins.

An incredibly rich dish of Roast foie gras with almond fluid gel, cherry, and camomile cream signalled the meal’s move into heavier ‘main course’ territory, and was a singing triumph that made me want to force-feed it to animal rights protestors who want to get the production of the ‘fat liver’ banned. The mixture of the sharp cherry and the soothing camomile was particularly effective in mitigating the heaviness of a hefty piece of almost obscenely creamy offal.

Veloute of butternut squash (instead of sardine/mackerel 'on toast') and Cauliflower risotto with cocoa gelee and cocoa dusting (instead of salmon in liquorish, asparagus with vanilla mayonnaise) showed that the kitchen had full mastery of the subtle balancing of vegetable flavours, and made me realise being a vegetarian might not be such a bad thing – if you can afford a king’s ransom for food every day! The notion of cocoa with cauliflower sounds absurd I know, but was a subtle balance of flavours that piqued the tongue.

The end of the savoury dishes came with a Breast of anjou pigeon, pastilla 'of it's leg', pistachio, cocoa and quatre epices, a pastilla is layers of pastry, meat, almonds and icing sugar which was absolutely divine, alongside the poached breast meat in which one could practically see the pulse still beating – a bit rarer than I like my game, so I traded it for more pastilla, with which I was swiftly becoming obsessed, chasing my friend’s forks across their plates to seize more!

Desserts came in the form of 'Mrs Marshall's Margaret Cornet' - a tiny lemon and ginger mini cornet with apple ice-cream (and a history lesson on how Mrs Marshall invented the world’s most effective ice churning machine), Mango & Douglas Fir Puree, bavarois of lychee & mango, blackcurrant sorbet, a bevy of sharp and creamy flavours that were incredibly addictive, and a Carrot & Orange lollipop & a beetroot jelly cube that vanished on the tongue, leaving a waft of flavour.

Our waiter then came to announce that it was ‘time for breakfast’ and presented us with little cardboard packets containing Parsnip cereal, served with little jugs of parsnip milk. Quite how one milks a parsnip I’m not sure, but the taste was incredible, light and vegetal, and yet creamy and yes – milky too! If I were lactose intolerant I’d certainly choose it over soya milk as my dairy alternative!

The most anticipated dish came along next, Smoked bacon & egg ice-cream with french toast and butter caramel with morel mushroom & a cup of green tea jelly, my dish (as you can see from the pic) personalised with a birthday greeting, and I was so overwhelmed by the meal at this point I almost burst into tears of sheer bottled up joy! Words are not enough to describe this course, I would need an audio clip too, with moans and licks and sighs of pleasure, but that might be a bit x-rated for a food blog, so you shall have to use your imaginations. A pillowy caramelised chunk of french toast, a scoop of ice-cream dusted with crispy bacon and powdered egg that tasted – insanely - just like smoked bacon and egg, and a chewy, salty, sweet and mellow quenelle of the most buttery caramel ever. I swoon just remembering it.

At this point we were offered cheese, and with mouths refreshed by the light and delicious green tea jelly, three of us agreed – having seen a mountainous trolley doing the rounds earlier. We were given the choice of dozens and dozens, so sensibly opted to allow the cheese waiter to choose for us, and she did a magnificent job. We had 15 cheeses in all, including Maconnais (a goat cheese), Tomme brulee (ewe's milk cheese), Blue de Sassenage (blue - obviously!), and two hard cow's milk cheeses - Trois Laits and Tomme de Yennes. All of them were fabulous (one so ripe I swear it tried to crawl off my plate), but these ones I’ve named were the best, so good I had the waiter write them down for me so I can buy them again in future (along with a slice of parmesan, they would form my perfect cheeseboard).

The meal swung to a close with cups of Hot & cold earl grey, tea which drunk from one angle was cold, and from another was hot. The mind boggles as to how it was done, something to do with layers of different density? Extra treats of Violet tarts - exactly the sweetness and density of Mr Kipling's jam tarts!! And high-cocoa density chocolates served in a cocoa pod half. By this time we’d been sitting at the table for nearly four hours, and had drunk our way through a healthy amount of a gorgeous Chablis, L. Tribut 2000 (the prices on the wine list don’t bear thinking about – how can anything liquid be worth that much money?). I confess it didn't exactly match the cheeses, but it was glorious nonetheless, and it was fun to watch the waiters try and persuade us to change wines every course without success.

What more is there to say? I would return in a heartbeat, with a song in my heart. In fact just thinking that I might not be able to return for sometime makes my foodie soul weep, so I’m conspiring to take my mother with me again soon-ish. The menu is adventurous, certainly (even the a la carte menu is not much more demure), but if I, picky foodie that I am, and my housemate I-don’t-like-it-cos-I-don’t-know-if-I-like-it, can cope, nay glory, with it, then anyone can.

Heston Blumenthal is a genius, officially, go pay homage at the Fat Duck.

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