november-2011

“I’M GOING TO ASK YOU A QUESTION,” says Ferran
Adrià, in prickly response to a question that I’ve just
asked. “Can you explain to me the difference between
molecular cuisine and molecular gastronomy?”
After a lengthy silence, the chef-cum-philosopher,
who is widely regarded as the fi nest cook of his
generation, fi nally puts me out of my misery: “The
problem is, one exists, the other doesn’t. The other is
just a name people have given. This revolution, which
you call molecular cuisine, was born in 1994. It’s a very
local movement. It started in el Bulli.”
The question I’d asked had felt innocent enough to
me – “What is your reaction to the word ‘molecular’?”
– but to Adrià it was like a red rag to a bull. It’s
probably because he’s been hearing it – or a variation
thereof – for quite some time.
El Bulli was Adrià’s triple-Michelin-starred
restaurant located near the sleepy resort of Roses
on the Costa Brava, a couple of hours’ drive north
of Barcelona. The winner of the S Pelligrino World’s
Best Restaurant Award in 2002, and four more times
from 2006 to 2009, the restaurant was famed for its
highly experimental cuisine – referred to as molecular
gastronomy by the media (though not Adrià).
THE BUZZ | TASTE BUDS
Portrait
of an
Artist
EL BULLI RESTAURANT MAY BE NO MORE, BUT ITS GUIDING GENIUS,
FERRAN ADRIÀ, REMAINS A BUSY MAN. AS HIS FIRST COOKBOOK
LAUNCHES, WE WENT TO MEET THE WORLD’S GREATEST CHEF
DUNCAN RHODES
LORENA ROS
And what an experience it was... At least for
the 8,000 people who managed to get a table (out
of the two million who applied each season). For
these lucky few, el Bulli’s 75 staff would conduct
a gastronomic symphony over 40 courses in what
Adrià refers to as “performances” or “concerts”, rather
than meals. Diners would be presented with such
improbable dishes as tender almond turnover with
Szechuan button and cucumber balls in liquorice
and yuzu; lychee soup with spherical capsules and a
spoonful of frozen tarragon powder with, perhaps,
eucalyptus water-ice for dessert. In a restaurant that
knew no creative limits, ordinary foodstuffs were
transmogrifi ed into new shapes and textures, and
bullied into balls, foams, airs and capsules, with some
dishes evaporating before diners’ eyes or disappearing
into their mouths, only to reappear as clouds of
nitrogen through their nostrils.
The restaurant closed its doors for the last time
earlier this year, but it’s there that we’re sitting – in
the nerve centre of the very operation. It’s a place that
few, barring Adrià’s own staff, have seen: the kitchen
of el Bulli. Is it some kind of space-age lab manned by
silver-suited technicians wielding hand-me-down
TRAVELLER | 49