Alinea. Unrepeatable.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about Alinea, and what makes it a pinnacle dining experience. What I keep coming back to is the idea of unrepeatability.
In my head, I’ve been comparing the Alinea experience to that I’ve had at two other Chicagoland dining institutions: Le Francais of the old school and Charlie Trotter’s of the somewhat newer school.
Le Francais (in the old days, meaning 70s, 80s, and 90s – I haven’t been there in the new millennium) was in many ways a by-the-book French restaurant; the ingredients were fabulous, and many followed the Laws of French Cuisine that have been laid down by La Varenne and his heirs. The dishes served at this Wheeling landmark were pretty much identical to the same French dishes served in Paris or London.
Charlie Trotter has cookbooks out there. I’ve gone through several of them, and the idea seems to be that with the right ingredients and skills and a well-equipped kitchen, you can approximate the food of Charlie Trotter. It’s never as good as the real thing, of course, but you can come close to Trotter in the same sense that an asteroid may come “close” to Earth in the next fifty years (while still being hundreds of thousands of miles away).
With Alinea, the rules are out the window and there is no way you could hope to come close to building any of the plates that come across the table. Can you imagine an Alinea cookbook? Me neither.
I’m sure Achatz has been asked about the name of his place, and I’m not sure how he explains it, but to me it suggests a-linearity, something that is not in line with any specific tradition and that breaks with many culinary traditions not for mere effect but to create a new kind of dining experience, not one you will find anywhere else and one that is, in as many ways as possible, not repeatable anywhere else. In this sense, dinner there is like experiencing a work of art, a unique collection of sensations.
Like all art, responses are subjective, and one can recognize greatness without liking it much. Perhaps my tastes tend more toward simple presentation of high quality ingredients. At Alinea, my favorite dish in the tour was the waygu; my favorite at Moto was the strip steak with salsa-filled syringe; I’m noticing a trend a here.
My take on Alinea’s dinner was that it was visually stunning, an eating experience that challenged assumptions, broke down barriers, remapped my sense of the dinner table…but I was not that taken by the food. The overwhelming flavors were sweet and salty, and I found myself thrilling to the visuals but not nearly so knocked out by the actual flavors of the food. Intensity is, to me at least, generally a good thing, but some flavors seemed a touch too concentrated, too assertive, just too much. When you’re pushing limits, it is possible to push too far, and I fear this may have happened with some dishes. However, that does not mean I don’t think Alinea’s plates are not great art – I think they may very well be. They’re just not to my taste.
Hammond
"Don't you ever underestimate the power of a female." Bootsy Collins