Trial and Error

While the process is usually fluid and intuitive, sometimes it boggles the mind how many considerations and challenges we face in the day-to-day planning and execution of dishes, as well as their place on an overall menu. It can go far beyond mere cooking, all of these logistics. For example, if I offer a selection of eight desserts, not only do I try to avoid too much repetition in flavors or ingredients, but I also don't want to employ similar presentations; in order to represent a variety of shapes I resist using the same mold or form in two desserts. Even further, there has to be a range of flavors: a balance of rich and light, of fruit and chocolate. There has to be a variety of textures: not too many soft mousses or creams. And there also should be options that accommodate a myriad of food allergies: dishes made without nuts, or dairy, or gluten. Production issues arise from time to time: can we add yet one more sorbet flavor? Or logistical concerns during service: is there enough time to bake this or that to order in a rush? And on top of all that, my dessert menu isn't necessarily isolated from the savory menu. Not only does the restaurant's overall style and philosophy need to coalesce, but there also needs to be a thoughtful transition between the sweet and savory. Though it should appear that each dish stands alone on its own merits, it can occasionally can feel as if it is just only tiny piece of a larger puzzle.

Of course, these variables only begin at conception. They increase once a dish undergoes the transformation from the imagination to actual food on a plate. The laws of physics, if not simply those of good taste, often govern whether your initial ideas will work. The viscosity of a sauce, the firmness of a gel, the moisture of a cake are all single yet intertwined concerns. Even the constant of gravity can occasionally  seem to work against you! Once individual components come together satisfactorily, then the aesthetics of appearance are always subject to change. I must stress that flavor is paramount. Assuming that goal is a given, for most chefs (typical control freaks by nature), attention to all the other details is a close second.

As I wrote above, I tend to work in a fairly spontaneous way. An idea comes, and the sooner I flesh it out, the better the result. While I keep lengthy notes and lists of everything that goes through my head, over time those ideas lose their context, or sense of urgency. And with the daily distractions of the kitchen and the mile-a-minute pace, days or weeks can go by before there is actual follow through. Such has been the case with a yuzu dessert I've been working on. It's been a couple of years since we've featured yuzu on the menu, so I wanted to bring it back, along with the flavor of green tea. The initial presentation was comprised of a yuzu mousse set upon a square of green tea biscuit, then topped with a layer of caramelized Italian meringue. As much as I loved the first few trial runs, it suffered from a long gestation which caused that initial spark to fizzle. Once the dessert was put into production, a few problems arose that led me to rework the composition entirely.

I hoped the problems I had would be solved by keeping all of the primary components, but blowing them apart. Separation not only gave me more control, but also gave them identity and a more dynamic presentation. The yuzu mousse, essentially a lightened curd, was formed in a cylinder as opposed to the square mold I used before; to give it some definition, I sprayed it with white chocolate. The green tea biscuit came out from under the yuzu, to now stand on it's own, but given a brief soak in a lemon syrup. I really like this cake, which I adapted from my recipe for ladyfingers, replacing a portion of the cornstarch with matcha, a Japanese green tea powder. This intense, bright powder also flavors the green tea ice cream. Using the matcha is beneficial, not only for its color and flavor, but also because it gives a more consistent and predictable result, as opposed to using an infusion with whole tea leaves.

The meringue stayed in the picture as well, this time smeared directly onto the rim of the plate. One of the problems I was having with the previous version, was that after a period in the freezer, the meringue would contract, or shrink, deforming the nice clean line of mousse along with it. No good. I like this dramatic swoop and the variation in color created with a pass of the blowtorch. This matter isn't entirely solved; without other additives or creative chemistry, the nature of a meringue is such that it will eventually degrade. It certainly wouldn't be practical to have several continuous batches of Italian meringue working during service. A stable topping for a classic lemon meringue pie often includes cornstarch, but that would require a need to cook it through, and I don't know that I want such a firm texture anyway. My next experiments might involve simple dried egg white powder, which theoretically could turn any old liquid into a "meringue", or Versawhip, which does an amazing job of stabilizing  similar textured foams out of slightly thickened liquids. We'll have to wait and see how far this will go...

In reality, almost every dish is subject to change or refinement over time, and I enjoy that process because it's proof that there are constantly new things to learn and more precise problems to solve. It often drives the people I work with crazy, such constant fiddling! But I also hope that such spontaneity balances the real (and perceived) rigidity that pastry work sometimes entails. It's healthy to take a step or two outside of the box now and then, even if you know that you'll eventually have to take a step back inside. It's important just to flex those muscles, and to keep your mind active. One of my favorite mottoes is, "if isn't broken, let's break it and see what happens!"

(I'm on the road at the moment, so please return for the recipe download in a couple days!)

For general notes on the recipes posted here, please read About the Recipes. And for hard to find ingredients or equipment, please refer to Resources.

Comments

[Ted Niceley]

Michael,
Super post, SUPER looking plate!!!
Thank you!
T

[H. Alexander Talbot]

michael,

you could make a meringue with methocel, even flavor it with yuzu

let me see if we can work out a formulation

[Michael Laiskonis]

Alex, unless I'm thinking in the wrong direction, wouldn't that entail having to make a warm "meringue"? I'm looking for some degree of do-ahead stability. Either way, I'm guessing come Monday I'll be able to consult Kevin for much methocel advice!

[stacy]

Hello
I have read the entire last few posts of yours in a daze. I have recently discovered my passion for cooking and I have been trawling the internet over the last few months learning all I can about food and cuisine. Reading this post and the last about your team in Le Bernardin, I am enthralled and excited with this world that you describe in detail. I had been toying with the idea of doing a month long introductory professional cookery course. I am putting in my application today. Thanks

[Stephen Javaras]

Hi Michael,
I am doing a dessert right now with meringue piped onto the plate and torched to order, and a swiss meringue seems to work very well. It seems to be very stable, even after the second day it can be piped into perfect dots on the plate.

What did you eventually decide on?

[Babeth]

Hi!

I just discovered this stunning blog! I love the fact that you explain the whole process and not just sharing recipes. And having chef advices is priceless!!
Bravo bravo!
Can't wait to see this yuzu mousse, green tea cake recipe