moleculardrinks.info

As life has been crazy busy as of late, I’m going to phone this one in, and give you an article that I gave to Stan for his new Mixology Magazine, now that I know that it won’t be printed in English and thereby won’t affect his readership.

Warning: the following post is about beer syrup, which we’ve already covered ad nauseam. The cocktail, however, takes a “molecular mixology” tilt, as this is what was requested by Stan.

Here goes the article, as submitted, before editing:

There has been a trend, as of late, to use beer in cocktails. Whether it stems from a need for new ingredients, or the need to be creative, I know not, but I do know that it is a trend that has long been in the waiting. Wine has been used in mixed beverages for centuries know, and it seems almost absurd that beer hasn’t shown its face a little more often in America’s greatest contribution to the world, the cocktail.

The beer industry today is rife with tradition and innovation. From ancient Belgiums to fruity lambics to yesterday’s latest micro-brew, we have an infinite world of flavors at our disposal. It was high time that someone started accessing these interesting and varied beer characteristics.

I was recently approached to develop some beer cocktails, but instead of responding with the usual twists on the ale flip, or the shandy, I decided to go way off into left field, and experiment with beer liqueurs and syrups. I’ve never been a big fan of many of the liqueurs on the market as they mainly hit just one note of flavor and are providing little more than sweetness. Due to their simplicity and expense, I’ve always leaned toward making my own syrups and liqueurs, and while I’ve made liqueurs out of wine in the past, for some reason I’ve never looked to beer to offer me flavor. This was about to change.

Grabbing a farmhouse ale from the fridge I set about making my first beer syrup. After de-carbonating the beer, I placed it on the stove and heated it up, so that it would be able to accept the sugar that I was going to add. Sugar added, yeasty head removed and syrup cooled, I tasted my new product. Eureka! The final result was a honeyed, slightly yeasty beer candy.

Realizing the whiskey and beer come from the same family, I decided to make a cocktail with my new friend from Belgium and an old friend from Kentucky: Knob Creek bourbon. And in keeping with the beer theme, I wanted the finished product to look like it could be a glass of beer.

I present for you, the Kentucky Monk….

KENTUCKY MONK
2 oz bourbon
½ oz Torani Amer
4 dashes coriander tincture

stir and strain into miniature beer glass
half fill remainder with beer syrup foam
fine grate orange zest on foam
top with beer syrup foam again
brûlée foam with Angostura flame
garnish with finely grated orange zest and amaro Nonino dust

Beer Syrup Foam
1 sheet bloomed gelatin
4 egg whites
4 oz hot water
6 oz beer syrup
2 oz lemon juice

place all in ISI canister, charge and chill

Beer Syrup
1 bottle of flavorful Belgium beer (I chose Saison Dupont Farmhouse Ale)
12 oz sugar

open beer and pour into a container
stir to release CO2 and leave for several hours
place beer in a large pot and heat.
Do not let the beer boil, as it gets messy
add sugar, stirring until it is completely dissolved
skim off head that forms
take off heat, and allow to cool somewhat
strain syrup, to remove any head that has developed

Amaro Nonino Dust
Place 5 oz amaro on a flat sterile metal surface (not too deep of a puddle)
Leave until dry (place on top of a warm area to expedite process)
Scrape off dried amaro and grind in a mortar and pestle

Angostura Flame
place a solution of 3:1 Angostura to Stroh 80 in a mister
pump and spray through a flame
THIS IS DANGEROUS, BE CAREFUL.

Source: http://spiritsandcocktails.wordpress.com/2007/10/02/molecular-mixology-v-kentucky-monk/ 

I bag the last front-row seat in the class. It’s gastronomy, of the molecular variety. Our teacher, “mad scientist in the kitchen” Simon Gault of Auckland’s Euro, is surrounded by containers of liquids, an industrial-sized jug-blender and two oversized syringes. All that’s missing is bubbling, smoking flask of something green and a maniacal laugh. This is definitely going to be a different kind of cooking.

“Molecular gastronomy is about giving the round wheel of food a nudge so it rolls down the road a bit wobbly,” says Gault. Bring on the molecules!

Gault works with Texturas, a range of flavourless, predominantly seaweed-based powders. They’re packaged in pretty tubs that you might mistake for bath salts. “These offer a bunch of possibilities to give your menu an edge,” he says.

In this two-hour session there will barely be time to scratch the surface of this weird, wonderful and increasingly popular science, but to get us geared up for some intensive learning, Gault passes round the gin and tonics. It’s another sign we’ve crossed a bold new frontier – these G&Ts are not liquid but an icy sorbet on a spoon. “It’s got a fizzy thing going on,” he says, passing round a tub of the maggot-like twists responsible for the tingling sensation.

Next on the molecular menu are battered scallops; this time with the added ingredient, Trisol, which prevents the batter soaking up too much oil. The result is the wispiest, crunchiest coating I’ve ever tasted.

Following the same theory and using Trisol to get the extremes of crunchy on the outside and soft within, batter an egg yolk and add it to your next Caesar salad, suggests Gault. I think I need another G&T.

Then there’s gelifications: jellies but not as you know them. Fancy a suspension? Mixing a powder, fermented from cornstarch, solidifies the liquid just enough that you can suspend things in it. Gault demonstrates with a colourless gazpacho into which he drops tiny vegetable cubes. They float in the soup, each at a different level, as if attached by invisible threads.

Incorporate this technique into a cocktail and suddenly you’re a molecular mixologist.

Meanwhile, the other demonstrating chef, Shane Yardley, also of Euro, is stirring up the extremely unusual but delicious sounding “chocolate gravel”. It’s made of melted chocolate mixed with Malto, a powder derived from tapioca.

Sprinkle these dark crumbs over a dessert and they’ll melt back to liquid in your mouth. Gault uses the same technique to dress savoury dishes, too – he suggests lemon gravel sprinkled over fish.

From the gravel it’s time for to head for the air – lime air. Gault whizzes lime juice, water and Lecite, a soy lecithin-based emulsifier, into a mountain of foam that would do any bath proud. The difference is these bubbles will retain their shape without collapsing. Add some flavours and there you have a three-dimensional garnish – you can even freeze them in their bubble-shape. “Endless fun,” grins Gault. Is it me or did he just stifle a mad Dr Frankenstein-like cackle?

The last trick in this kitchen magic act is reverse spherification. We bury tiny cubes of gorgonzola and honeycomb into a spoonful of yoghurt. The spoons, complete with yoghurt, are dunked into a liquid solution, then rinsed. The yoghurt semi-sets into a soft sphere which hides the tangy-sweet burst of flavour from the cheese and honey within. Now that’s magic.

And just one thing to finish. Hot liquid, in a cup. Yep, a good old-fashioned cuppa. Some things you don’t want to mess with.

For other short hospitality courses contact Taste, an initiative of The Restaurant Association or see www.tastenz.co.nz.

Kahlua Sour

Trying to make a sour drink from a coffee liqueur seems like an oxymoron but here it is: combine 1 1/2 ounces of Kahlua with an ounce of lemon juice and a half tablespoon of sugar. The ingredients are combined, shaken with ice, and strained into a sour glass. Garnish with a slice of lemon and a maraschino cherry.

Link to More Drinks Magnified.

Whose round is it? The bartenders can shake, stir and Tai Mai Shu but, somewhere between ravioli and apple spheres, things get muddled

The problem with “room with a view” restaurants and bars is that they’re apt to rely on what’s out the window for kudos rather than what’s in the glass or on the plate.

The views are amazing from this 88th storey behemoth – you look down on Sydney’s tallest sky-scrapers and out to sea. Scaling that height though is a bit of a strain on the nerves. And on arrival? “Hi guys, there’s a $20 drink minimum at the bar,” says a gum-chewing sentry at the ground floor lifts.

“How much are the drinks?” we ask in a pique of hip-pocket vertigo. “Depends how much you wanna spend but it’s $20 or over.” No worries there, the cocktails are all between $18.50 and $21 a pop. Ouch!

360 has been running for three years but it’s only recently they’ve started to get a little molecular (that gastronomic movement of recent years incorporating food and science) with their drinks. On asking our bartender about “the sphere thing” (those little bubbles of liquid you see in restaurants sometimes) we ask him for a recommendation.
It’s a real shame some bartenders make the assumption that all women want fruity vodka drinks without asking what sort of flavours they like. After asking for his pick of the molecular drinks he goes straight to a sort of lychee and vanilla-infused vodka concoction finished with violets and lychee ravioli.

So after explaining to him what we actually enjoy drinking (i.e. nothing with fruit in it unless it’s citrus), he recommends the Tai Mai Shu (ha!) – a spicy mix of Bombay Sapphire gin, green apple and ginger liqueurs, all muddled with chilli, basil leaves, ginger and chilli sugar and served with a stick of lemongrass that the bartender instructs us to “chew on” (yes, really).

The “ravioli” is served on a Chinese-style spoon and it’s not great. The whole point of spherification is to capture the essence of something in a skin of itself with a series of chemicals. The skin should be so thin that it pops in your mouth. Here, the process looks like it had gone on too long – the skin is glutinous and thick and the chilli-studded centre oozes rather than bursts.

The drinks themselves take half a revolution to make. We start off overlooking the Australian Museum but we don’t have our Miss Pennyapple in hand until Blackwattle Bay. And talk about muddled – there are so many elements in these drinks it’s plain confusing. A mix of Hendricks gin, Grand Marnier, pomegranate liqueur with muddled lemongrass and ginger, double strained and served in a champagne flute topped with mineral water with a spoon of kiwi and apple spheres on the side isn’t a drink, it’s an essay.

There are so many cool sphere opportunities in the world – why not make an olive sphere in a Martini?
Or a burnt orange sphere in a Negroni? Or a Maraschino cherry sphere in a Gimlet? These would be exciting. Sadly what these guys are doing here isn’t so much exciting as overstimulating. MR

Level 1, Sydney Tower, 100 Market St, 2000. (02 9235 2188) Mon-Fri: 6pm-11pm; Fri-Sat: 6pm-midnight; Sun: 6pm-11pm.

From left, Cuba Libre, Ramos Gin Fizz Marshmallow, White Russian Breakfast Cereal.

Cocktail master Eben Freeman of Tailor, having already taught us the secrets of the Hard Shake, has gone back into his cocktail lab and created one of the most compelling forms of liquor we’ve seen in a while: Tailor’s new “solids,” a series of edible cocktails. There are currently three on the restaurant’s menu: a Cuba Libre, consisting of rum and coke gelatinized into a cube (hence the name); a Ramos Gin Fizz Marshmallow (“the drink made properly is all meringue anyway, so why not make it a marshmallow?”); and his crowning achievement, the White Russian Breakfast Cereal. The last amounts to a Rice Krispies treat made by soaking the cereal in Kahlúa, dehydrating it, repeating that process, and then soaking it in vodka, sugar, and half-and-half. “Cocktail geeks are coming in and asking me all these questions,” Freeman complains. “This is just to have fun!” And, he adds, soberly, to “push the boundaries” of mixology. No wonder they’re curious.

Source: http://nymag.com/daily/food/2008/01/eben_freeman_turns_his_cocktai_1.html# 

Source: http://www.cocktailians.com/2008/01/melbourne-bar-r.html 

Here is an extract from the above blog on Melbourne’s conrtribution to Molecular Mixology:

“…The following evening, I was ready to tackle Melbourne’s, Der Raum, which several people had described to me as the “El Bulli of molecular mixology“. I walked the mile or so from my hotel through the leafy boulevards of Richmond, to its rather drab, unassuming entrance. Once inside, I was immediately taken aback by the vast array of bottles dangling from the ceiling on bungee cords, and owner/chief bartender Matt Bax’s fine abstract paintings lining the walls. At that point, I knew that I was in for a total sensory experience rather than just great mixology.

I took my seat at the bar and chatted with the bartenders for a while about this and that, while poring over the drink menu. I finally settled on the Latin Threesome: Pitú Cachaça from Brazil, Capel Alto de Carmen Chilean Pisco grape brandy, and Havana Club Añejo Reserva, with crushed pineapple, fresh lime juice, and brown sugar served in a double old-fashioned glass. Combining the Cachaça and Pisco, typically rather harsh liquors, together with the other ingredients resulted in an elegant, smooth tropical libation that I will definitely be attempting to duplicate down in my Tiki bar during the next couple of weeks.

Next up, a Jamaican Blackstrap: Myer’s Dark rum, pomegranate molasses, lime juice, orange bitters, gomme syrup, and a couple of splashes of Bundaberg Ginger Beer, strained into what appeared to be a cough-syrup bottle, and served in a brown-paper bag. The result was exceptionally smooth (probably due to the addition of the gomme) and appropriately medicinal, but oddly flat. I would’ve expected the ginger beer to give it a bit more fizz. Still, it was a worthy tipple.

Finally, my expense account stretched to the breaking point, I felt I should wind things up, so I decided to once again take advantage of being outside the US, and asked the staff to recommend something with Absinthe. After much stirring, pouring, and spritzing, they delivered unto me Hemingway’s “Death in the Afternoon” adapted from a humorous 1935 celebrity cocktail book titled, So Red the Nose, or Breath in the Afternoon. “Death” arrived in the form of a champagne coupe filled with a mix of Mr. Jekyll German Absinthe and champagne. Floating in the center of the glass was an Absinthe-tinted ball of ice with a sprig of rosemary embedded inside. A spritz of extra-virgin olive oil completed the presentation. Words fail me at this point, quite possibly because I was getting so drunk that my synapses weren’t firing properly any longer, but suffice it to say that when I die, this cocktail is what I want to see floating at the end of that long, dark tunnel.

I found myself returning to Der Raum on Friday night, and in the interest of not taking up the entire Cocktailian front page, I’ll limit myself to listing the drinks consumed, along with a brief description:

Bizzy Izzy Fix: a cobbler named after 1920s G-Man, Izzy Einstein: small-batch bourbon, tawny port, muddled pineapple and lemon, and dark brown sugar. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned on this trip, it’s not to overlook bourbon as a potential ingredient in tropical drinks.

Wie Bitte Cocktail: one of Matt Bax’s original creations: Amaro Montenegro Liqueur, cardamom, sweet vermouth, and orange bitters combined to produce an exceptionally smooth and well-balanced drink, with a nice bitter edge, and a lovely cardamom aftertaste.

Prohibition Long Island Ice Tea: I was surprised to learn that Melbourne had its own Prohibition during the early 20th century. During that period, many coffee and tea shops took to serving alcoholic drinks disguised as caffeinated bevvies. Appropriately, Der Raum’s version comes in an oversized coffee mug, with a creamer full of Coca Cola on the side to add as desired. This was quite good, both with and without the cola.

Well, jet-lag beckons me now towards the arms of Morpheus, so I’ll wrap up my narrative. Hopefully, I’ll be able to return to Melbourne later in the year, and pick up my barhopping where I left off, as I haven’t even scratched the surface of what’s there to be imbibed.”

Images courtesy of John Laurie, official photographer of Der Raum.

 Party planner extraordinaire Christian O’Dowd of the acclaimed Cantering Caterer (www.canteringcaterer.com) in Westport and Greenwich, Connecticut, forecasts dining and entertaining trends that incorporate his taste sensations and one-of-a-kind party ideas that have wowed celebrities such as Paul Newman and Billy Joel, and high-profile CEOs from ING, Goldman Sachs, among others, who hire O’Dowd to plan their high-budget parties, birthday celebrations, weddings and corporate events.

Some of O’Dowd trend predictions for 2008 include:

9. Fresh Cocktails: Look for clever mixologists to use fresh herbs like purple basil with mint in your Mojito. Tea-based martinis using Earl Grey or black tea will also be served.

Source: http://pressmediawire.com/article.cfm?articleID=4782 

http://juwong.multiply.com/journal/item/587/20_Trends_Sweeping_the_Globe

Put a mad scientist behind the bar and you get molecular mixology–an outgrowth of the molecular gastronomy movement pioneered by Spanish chef Ferran Adrià at his Catalonian restaurant El Bulli. The style seeks to apply scientific principles to cooking. Now, bartenders from London to Hong Kong are taking the trend to the next level, serving up cocktails in the form of edible foams, papers and orbs. Some of the more complicated recipes require ingredients like Pop Rocks (carbonated candy), liquid nitrogen, baking soda, and nitrous oxide–and a laboratory’s worth of beakers.

http://culinaryplatform.blogspot.com/2008/01/cocktails.html

Chemistry isn’t a word that most people associate with cocktails. But more bartenders are applying the science of molecular gastronomy to the search for a better drink, mixing alcohol with such stuff as liquid nitrogen, alginates and chlorides. The result: whiskey marshmallows, a mojito mist to be sprayed instead of sipped, a Hurricane that erupts like a school science project.

“It’s about changing the texture, density or viscosity, the molecular structure of a liquid,” says award-winning mixologist Charlotte Voisey. The chemical-cocktail movement grew out of a 2005 symposium sponsored by Dutch distiller Bols. In attendance were Hervé This, the father of molecular gastronomy, and eight of the world’s top bartenders. They created drinks including a boozy ice cream using liquid nitrogen and an ice-cube-like gin-and-tonic jelly. This month Cointreau is introducing a kit to convert its orange liqueur into caviar pearls. Moët & Chandon has created a line of Champagne drinks with foams and caviars that add fruity flavor to bubbly. Science never tasted so good.

1. Foam In Moët’s cocktail, foam adds texture and fruity flavor to Champagne without altering the effervescence

2. Solids At Providence in L.A., Adrian Vasquez make mojito spheres with sodium hexametaphosphate

3. Cotton Candy At Seattle’s Vessel, Jaime Boudreau combines orange-infused candy floss and spirits for a new twist on the old-fashioned

4. Burning For a Lafitte’s Cloud, Boudreau tops rum with a coconut foam brûléed with a mixture of rum and Angostura bitters

5. Caviar Eben Freeman’s Cape Codder, created for wd-50 in New York City, turns vodka and cranberry juice into edible pearls