I have been reading a lot about the Alinea cookbook on the various food blogs lately, and talk of the cookbook has led me to consider molecular gastronomy a little bit more than I ordinarily would have.  I ordinarily would have brushed the entire thing off as a goofy fad at best! 

But reading otherwise sane food bloggers like David Lebovitz tackle some of the Alinea recipes has led me to the grudging belief that molecular gastronomy is both fascinating and worthwhile, if not the kind of thing that is going to replace, you know… "cooking."  Of "food."  That a person might "eat."

I enjoy molecular gastronomy at the very least because it leads to some really funny blog posts.  Call it the sadist in me, but when I read that Lebovitz is now the proud owner of a five gallon SAMPLE SIZE bucket of maltodextrin powder, I could not stop giggling.

Speaking of which, molecular gastronomy could handily be described as "the exact opposite of Michael Pollan."  If Pollan believes that you should not eat anything your grandmother wouldn't recognize, then molecular gastronomy is right out.  Heck, *I* don't even recognize this stuff.  This is after all a branch of the culinary arts in which regular people like you and me end up purchasing and using maltodextrin powder.  

It seems that one of the primary goals of molecular gastronomy is to put interesting and delicious flavors inside forms that are not technically the kind of thing you would consider "edible."  Foams are popular, for example.  You can make a foam taste like just about anything, if you infuse it with the correct flavor, then create a whipped emulsion of fat globules and air bubbles.  Delish!  

Powders are another standby of molecular gastronomy.  In fact, it was in the name of creating a powder that Lebovitz ended up with the aforementioned five gallon bucket of maltodextrin.  (Nutella powder, in case you were wondering.  And I'm sure it was delicious - how could it not be? - but I was left with the same question molecular gastronomy always raises for me: how is this better than just eating Nutella?)

"Glass" is a third item.  You take something delicious, then infuse it in a sugar film.  Glass is at the heart of the "bacon powder wrapped in pineapple glass" which Paul at Sweet and Sour Spectator spent three days creating.  I can't help but admire Paul for his stick-to-it-ive-ness if nothing else!  He had a much easier time securing the required maltodextrin, as well as something called "Pure-Cote B790."  But if I ever encountered a recipe that would require me to pour pineapple slime on my countertop and leave it there overnight, that would be the end of that particular recipe.

It used to be that when I thought about molecular gastronomy, I felt derision.  Now I feel admiration - bemused admiration, but admiration nevertheless.  What brave heights these pioneers strive for!  And the commitment shown by food bloggers - regular citizens like you and me - is nothing short of miraculous.