Ivy Winner: Alinea

Since opening in May 2005, the unabashedly ambitious restaurant has done its best to shatter preconceived notions about how food can be prepared, presented and experienced.

By Allison Perlik, Senior Editor -- Restaurants and Institutions, 5/1/2008

“Bean, many garnishes, pillow of nutmeg air” reflects an exploration of flavors, textures and aromas.

Navigating the hushed hallway that ushers visitors into Chicago’s Alinea restaurant stirs sensations akin to what Alice might have felt tumbling down the rabbit hole.

Intrigue and anticipation build as guests walk the black-tiled path, which narrows disconcertingly as a series of staggered walls, backlit to cast a rosy glow, close in from the right. Just when the curious metalwork on the back wall is almost in full sight, steel doors on the left slide open soundlessly, revealing the spare elegance of the downstairs dining room.

“We wanted to evoke a little bit of emotion, disorientation, a change of perspective. We wanted people to think about it,” says Chef-partner Grant Achatz.

He could just as well be describing his vision for Alinea itself. Since opening in May 2005, the unabashedly ambitious restaurant has done its best to shatter preconceived notions about how food can be prepared, presented and experienced. Achatz’s unconventional recipes may sound full of gimmicky theatrics to the uninitiated—exploding balls of apple cider encased in cinnamon-infused cocoa butter? dehydrated strips of butterscotch-dipped bacon suspended from metal bows?—but the end result is all about flavor, not science.

Gimmicks, after all, couldn’t sustain the worldwide foodie fascination with Alinea that reached fever pitch before its first meal was served. Nor could the allure of culinary dramatics alone keep a restaurant operating at 95% capacity, as Alinea did in 2007, its third year in business. Such feats are even more impressive considering that diners have just two menu choices: a 12-course tasting for $135 or 25 courses for $195.

With Alinea, Chef-partner Grant Achatz has earned a spot in the world’s culinary spotlight.

“I kept expecting a bit of a backlash at some point, but I think anytime someone comes here, it ends up being a comfortable experience,” says Nick Kokonas, Achatz’s partner and co-visionary. “People are disarmed when they realize that the staff and all of us are having fun, and we don’t take it too seriously.”

IT’S A KITCHEN, NOT A LAB

Achatz’s culinary philosophy, simpler than his intricate plates would suggest, revolves around an ongoing exploration of how ingredients can be manipulated to extract their truest possible flavors.

“There is this misconception that we’re growing food in test tubes and petri dishes,” says the 34-year-old Achatz, a Culinary Institute of America graduate who spent four years soaking up lessons from mentor Thomas Keller at The French Laundry in Yountville, Calif., before establishing his solo reputation at the highly respected, now-closed Trio in Evanston, Ill. “We’re cooks. We’re about cooking and purity of flavor. Yes, we use modified starches, but I’ll argue to anyone that I can make a sauce taste more like what it’s supposed to by use of a modified starch that some classically trained chef has never heard of versus the way he’s going to make it.”

He offers the simple example of parsley sauce to better explain this conviction. Whereas most chefs would use infused oil or add parsley purée to a mother sauce, Achatz captures the essence of the peppery herb by juicing parsley and thickening it with a tiny amount of non-flavor-altering modified starch. The sauce tastes precisely like parsley, because parsley is virtually the only ingredient.

“Science is incredibly important in what we do, but it’s simply a tool,” he explains. “It’s not the starting point, and it’s not the focus of our experience here.”

True, Alinea’s kitchen does stock exotic-sounding elements such as xanthan gum, agar-agar and liquid nitrogen, but the vast majority of products are far more recognizable—not to mention organic, sustainable and locally sourced wherever possible. Exploring how these ingredients can be experienced in varying textures, at different temperatures and even as aromas drives the menu-development process.

In one dish, for example, a dollop of seasoned sour cream is planted with sorrel sprigs and then frozen using a piece of equipment called the anti-griddle, which freezes components placed on top of it rather than cooking them. Frozen smoked salmon is grated finely over the top; pink peppercorns serve as a garnish.

For another recipe, mango and tomato purées are spread thinly over acetate in sheet pans, dehydrated, and sliced into thin, chewy strips called leathers. The colorful strings are tangled together to serve as one of several garnishes encircling creamy navy-bean purée crowned with a crisp pancetta chip and stout-beer foam. Other adornments include a hollowed apple sphere filled with molasses and a lemon marshmallow topped with lemon zest.

Alinea’s team of 25 chefs turns out as many as 1,700 plates during a typical dinner service.

The dish, listed in the menu’s intentionally vague manner as “bean, many garnishes, pillow of nutmeg air” (“We want to keep that sense of surprise,” Achatz says) draws on another Alinea trademark. Crushed nutmeg goes inside a volcano-shaped tool called the vaporizer, which pumps nutmeg-scented air into a rectangular plastic bag. For pickup, a chef pierces the bag with a knife in multiple places and slips it inside a white cover. The dish is served atop the pillow so that the aroma escapes as diners dig in.

“The advantage of taking in nutmeg by way of smell is that you don’t get the astringency,” Achatz says. “It also allows you to layer flavors. Flavors can compete on your palate, but if you smell one and taste another, it’s a different effect.”

TOOLS OF THE TRADE

Alinea’s rethinking of conventional restaurant wisdom extends, not surprisingly, to the kitchen.

Achatz collaborated with residential architect Steve Rugo to create an ultrafunctional space whose setup and capabilities are fluid. Only the stove and salamanders are fixed in place; remaining pieces, such as induction burners, a hibachi grill, dehydrators and a quick-freeze griddle can move among the six stations to accommodate menu changes.

On a typical night, the kitchen sends out an astounding 1,700 painstakingly assembled plates. The near-constant flow of food and drink—about 75% of guests take advantage of general manager and wine director Joe Catterson’s wine pairings—demands an almost unheard-of level of labor and service. Besides the 25 chefs cooking in the kitchen, 25 front-of-house staff attend an average of 85 guests each night.

Yet even with such dedicated attention to customers, the most important element—the impressions that diners will carry with them—is beyond Achatz and his team’s control.

“People are going to have different emotional reactions depending on who they are, and in my mind, that’s the definition of art,” Achatz says.

Opened: May 2005

Seats: 66

Staff: 60

Per-person check average: $200+

Average daily covers: 85

2007 food and beverage sales: Approximately $5 million

Fork in the Road
When guests take time to consider not just what they’re eating but how they should eat it, dining becomes a more interactive, thought-provoking experience. That’s part of the role that Martin Kastner’s distinctively designed serving ware plays at Alinea, with every piece not only performing a specific function but also lending courses a more-artistic canvas than standard plates and forks would.

“It struck me as odd that people were challenging the confines of food, but nobody was challenging the confines of how to serve this new food,” Achatz says. “I needed to find somebody that was committed and passionate about changing the way food is served; otherwise, certain [kitchen] techniques would just stop, because we wouldn’t be able to serve [the dishes].”

Among the quirky creations he has conceived with Kastner are a round, glass-and-acrylic piece called the eye that helps even the tiniest palate cleansers arrive at tables intact and unmelted; white porcelain pedestals that showcase single-bite courses; and an attention-grabbing stainless-steel bow that suspends delicate concoctions above the table while highlighting their translucence. Plenty of others are at hand in Alinea’s kitchen; new wares always are in the works.