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1

Agnes Marshall ran a cooking school,

authored several cookbooks, and sold her

own line of cookware and ingredients,

which made her a celebrity chef in late

19th-century England.

Technical terms set in boldface, like

“cryogen” at right, are defined

briefly in the Glossary of Technical

Terms, near the end of volume 5.

André Daugin was the first chef to use

liquid nitrogen tableside in 1974 and the

first to describe it in a cookbook in 1981.

Dippin’ Dots, invented by biologist Curt

Jones, are made from ice cream base that

is cryopoached, freezing it into spheres.

is little point in trying to hide; it’s much better to

participate and be part of the community of

people sharing ideas.

Culinary Modernism’s focus on originality and

constant evolution raises some interesting questions.

What dishes were created when? How did

the cuisine evolve? Who came up with the key

ideas first? These questions consume a lot of

discussion among Modernist chefs, in part

because the answers are more elusive than they

might seem.

The Culinary Life of a Cryogen

Consider the fascinating history of liquid nitrogen

in cuisine. It might seem like a very straightforward

thing to find out who first used this cryogen

in the kitchen. In the late 19th century, several

scientists, including Michael Faraday, were

working on liquefying gases by cooling them to

extreme temperatures. The first measurable

quantities of liquid oxygen and nitrogen were

made in 1883 at Jagiellonian University in Krakow,

Poland.

Liquid gases might have stayed a scientific

curiosity, but Agnes Marshall, the proprietor of a

cooking school and a famous Victorian-era

cookbook author, attended a demonstration of

“liquid air” by James Dewar (inventor of the

Dewar flask, the design still used to contain liquid

nitrogen), held at the Royal Institution in London.

Marshall wrote the following in 1901:

Liquid air will do wonderful things, but

as a table adjunct its powers are astonishing,

and persons scientifically inclined may

perhaps like to amuse and instruct their

friends as well as feed them when they

invite them to the house. By the aid of liquid

oxygen, for example, each guest at a dinner

party may make his or her ice cream at the

table by simply stirring with a spoon the

ingredients of ice cream to which a few

drops of liquid air has been added by the

servant; one drop in a glass will more

successfully freeze champagne than two or

three lumps of ice, and in very hot weather

butter may be kept in better condition on

the table and make milk free from any

suspicion of sourness by adding a drop of

liquid air to an outer receptacle into which a

jug or butter dish is placed. Liquid air will,

in short, do all that ice does in a hundredth

part of the time. At picnics it would be

invaluable and surely ought to be kept freely

on hand in hospitals.

The amazing thing about this quote is that Mrs.

Marshall (as she was known to her readers) clearly

understood some key Modernist culinary principles

more than 100 years ago. Unfortunately, the

balance of evidence suggests that she never tried

this ice cream trick. If she had, she might have

discovered that using liquid oxygen is quite

dangerous compared to using liquid nitrogen.

In 1957, William Morrison, an employee of the

Union Stock Yard and Transit Company in

Chicago, filed a U.S. patent for making ice cream

by putting liquid nitrogen directly into the ice

cream base and stirring. Morrison’s method

clearly implements at least part of Marshall’s

vision, but it is unclear when his patent was first

put into use commerciallyor whether it ever

was. Like Marshall’s idea, Morrison’s invention

seems to have been a dead end.

Our research indicates that the next milestone

in the history of liquid nitrogen was in 1974, when

Walter Chamberlin, an engineer working for

Martin Marietta Corporation on a joint project

with the Bendix Corporation in Ann Arbor,

Michigan, took some liquid nitrogen home from

work in a thermos bottle. He decided to try to

make liquid nitrogen ice cream (see page 4·236);

he says that the idea came to him as he was

working with cryogenic material for his job. After

a few failed attempts with a blender that left

ice-cream mixture splattered on his ceiling,

Chamberlin developed a method of using a

kitchen stand mixer to make liquid nitrogen ice

cream.

This technique was so successful that he started

throwing liquid nitrogen ice cream parties. He held

6–10 of these parties every year for the next 36

years, many of them at or near the Los Alamos

National Laboratory where he worked. Many

engineers and scientists were exposed to liquid

nitrogen ice cream over the years, and they then

took the idea to the institutions where they worked.

As Chamberlin was hosting his first parties,

thousands of miles away, the French chef André

Daguin was starting to experiment with liquid

nitrogen. Daguin was the founding chef at the

restaurant Jardin des Saveurs at the Hôtel de

France in the small country town of Auch in

southwestern France. At the time, Daguin’s

restaurant held two Michelin stars and was a

leading example of the regional cuisine of Gascony.

Around 1976, the chef visited a facility in

nearby Aubiet that did artificial insemination of

cattle. Part of the tour included a demonstration of

liquid nitrogen, which was used to keep bull

semen in cold storage. This visit inspired Daguin

to try using liquid nitrogen in the kitchen.

He made a number of novel ice creams and

sorbets and served them at his restaurant, where

he mixed liquid nitrogen into the ice cream base

tableside with great drama, just as Marshall had

suggested. Daguin also prepared liquid nitrogencooled

dishes at dinners around the world, including

a banquet for the prestigious international

gastronomic society Chaîne des Rôtisseurs at The

Pierre hotel in New York City. Daguin was the first

chef to write about the cryogen: he included a

recipe for liquid nitrogen ice cream in his 1981

book Le Nouveau Cuisinier Gascon.

Daguin’s work with liquid nitrogen attracted

considerable notice at the time. It is mentioned in

many reviews of his restaurant, including one by

influential food critic Gael Greene that appeared in

New York magazine in 1980. Greene wrote, “Now

Daguin appears, armed with a jet-spewing liquid

nitrogen to turn white Armagnac into a granité

before our eyes … a snowy palate refresher.”

The stunning thing about this part of the story

is that Daguin was a famous French chef, yet his

role in the history of cooking with liquid nitrogen

has been underappreciated to the point that it is

virtually unknown. Even more surprisingly, he

does not seem to have influenced any other French

chefs of the era to use liquid nitrogen.

In 1979, I (Myhrvold) entered graduate school

in physics at Princeton University. I recall discussions

about using liquid nitrogen to make ice

cream or frozen whipped cream as a classroom

demonstration or a trick at parties. I never attended

such a demonstration or party, but the story

was passed along by word of mouth. We have not

been able to find any journal articles or other

written evidence referencing liquid nitrogen ice

cream in that period. It is possible that this oral

tradition started with Chamberlin’s parties.

At the University of Bristol, Peter Barham had

been looking for a new way to explain the concept

of entropy to his physics students, when in 1982

he hit upon the idea of making liquid nitrogen ice

cream for them. He thought at the time that he

was the first to do this, but later colleagues at

government research laboratories in the U.K. told

him that it had been done as a stunt since the

1950s. Barham tried (and failed) to find any

written documentation of this; it seems to be part

of the oral tradition, just as it had been at

Princeton.

In 1987, Curt Jones, a biologist who was familiar

with liquid nitrogen in scientific applications,

discovered a method for creating miniature frozen

spheres of ice cream. A year later, he launched the

company Dippin’ Dots and began producing and

selling this ice cream. Dippin’ Dots are simply ice

cream base dropped into liquid nitrogen, which

freezes the base into solid spheres—a process we

call cryopoaching (see page 2·460). This is very

different than the other approaches, which create

churned and aerated ice cream.

Note that Dippin’ Dotswhich is now a successful

ice cream franchise in the U.S.uses liquid

nitrogen as a preparation technique, but this is

done in a factory. The performance aspect of the

customer witnessing the creation is not part of the

process.

In 1994, Barham demonstrated the technique to

Nicholas Kurti and Hervé This. Barham reports

Liquid nitrogen chills ingredients quickly, even

at a rolling boil.

Greene began her article in New

York magazine with the provocative

statement, “The Nouvelle cuisine is

dead. Finie. Morte. Tombée.” She

then proceeded to discuss the

virtues of “La Cuisine Bourgeoise.”

Despite Greene’s high profile as a

food critic, both her description of

Daguin’s liquid nitrogen and her

proclamation that Nouvelle cuisine

was dead have largely been

forgotten.

Ariane Daugin, the daughter of

André, later became CEO of

D’Artagnan, a New Jersey-based

company that played a crucial role

in bringing fresh foie gras and other

delicacies to the American market.

60 VOLUME 1 · HISTORY AND FUNDAMENTALS

HISTORY 61

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