Maybe I’m burying the lead when I say that I didn’t care much for the food at Next Childhood. Perhaps I should focus on how well the staff balanced whimsy with professionalism, creating an environment that invoked the child aesthetic without coming across as too kitschy. Maybe I should admire attention to detail that went into the plating and write about the thoughtful, tasty beverage pairings. But I can’t. Thinking about the non-food elements of the evening continues to bring smiles to my face, but the fleeting smiles are replaced by bitter frowns when I think about the food.
Tapioca maltodextrin abounds on this menu, and in each case it plays an unpleasant part. “Hot dog powder” – intended to be mixed in to macaroni and cheese – was chalky and artificial-tasting. Pebble-sized pieces of a variety of maltodextrined this-or-that saw there essences completely lost amidst a dish with a dozen kinds of fried leaves, vegetables, and “hay”. They did not fail to contribute their characteristic chalky, gummy texture though.
Presentation trumped taste in almost every dish. “Fish and chips” included a cute little stick figure made of some kind of balsamic syrup. Something had been done to the syrup to render it thick and paint-like, and it was nearly impossible to lift it off the plate to incorporate into a bite of a food. Sad, since the dish really could have used a hit of acid. Mac and cheese had 5 little pods of disparate toppings surrounding the outskirt of the bowl, creating a dish intended to induce nostalgia rather than make sense as a plate of food. Sweet potato pieces designed to look like campfire logs accomplished that goal, but the potatoes themselves were bland and in desperate need of more robust seasoning. A “hamburger” course had gelled mayo, a bun that had been pureed into a sauce or something, and some pretty colors. It was fun to look at and contemplate, and tasted maybe a quarter as good as an actual burger. Dainty brussels sprouts cups were blanched into flavorlessness, then filled with various gels and pastes. A plate of roasted brussels sprouts would have been more enjoyable.
To be sure, some things at Next Childhood tasted good, and adjectives like fun, entertaining, and professional described it well. Delicious, unfortunately, was not one of those adjectives.
...defended from strong temptations to social ambition by a still stronger taste for tripe and onions." Screwtape in
The Screwtape Letters by CS Lewis
Fuckerberg on Food