EDIBLE CHILDHOOD
Chef Grant Achatz Serves Up ‘Childhood’ Whimsy At ‘Next’
By Bob Bounce
CHEF GRANT ACHATZ HAS TAKEN TO COMPLETELY CHANGING HIS MENU every three months at his restaurant, Next. The first three months took diners to Paris, 1906; the second to the streets of Thailand; and now, simply, into ‘childhood.’
Editor’s note: Bob Bounce spent the holidays at what “those-in-the-know are calling one of the country’s best new restaurants. With just a few weeks left before its current flight of fancy will be gone forever, we take you there, course by course, of course. Don’t bother calling; the restaurant is unable to take any more reservations for its current menu.
A small, wrapped package naps on the woven placemat before you, tempting you to nudge it awake, as naptime leads to recess. You unwrap, with no little curiosity, and intentionally less guidance from the peering eye of your guidance counselor. Yes, he’s watching. You know it. He knows it. But, succeed or fail, he’s willing to let you strike out on your own. Wrapping torn aside, you rip open the box to find a ball of liquefied peanut butter and pomegranate jelly in a sandbox of chopped peanuts. Just like the amuse-bouche Mom used to pack.
Carrots, onions, parsley stare up from the bottom of the deep well of a gigantic white soup bowl. How could this be chicken noodle soup, if there is no chicken? When the noodle IS the chicken, pressed and rounded, diving and twisting by the pool of broth.
The sun beats down on the waves below as a girl on the shore lifts her fishing line up to see her catch… a giant walleye! The girl is drawn stick-figure on the flat china-white palette, she is balsamic, the sun is lemon coulis, the shore is tempura crumb, the waves are pickled cucumber, a nearby fried-potato fishing net leans on a freshly-caught, tender chunk of walleye.
A cylinder of macaroni n’ cheese stands at attention, center-plate, pledging allegiance to a merry-go-round of accoutrements, prosciutto & arugula, tomato pulp, and before you can pick on all the others, the cylinder is lifted, cannonballing the noodles and sharp cheese sauce all over those nearby. Wait - is that a hot dog?
Opening the door to the season, “Autumn Scene” blows in, on fire, an actual burning log covered with plate glass. Deeply aromatic smoke uplifts the leaves, the leeks, polenta, broccoli, berries and more, while the fire below sizzles pumpkin, apple and hay. It is the smell of burning leaves, crunching underneath, as you walk home from school.
“You forgot your lunchbox!” Oh no, you didn’t. Your old ‘Star Wars’ or ‘A-Team’ or exactly-the-one-I-had lunchbox & Thermos is packed with non-trade-ables: parsnip pudding, homemade Funyuns, wagyu jerky, apple-brandy leather fruit roll-up and one truffled Oreo. All of this is packed with a powerful punch, opening up the real possibility Mom accidentally gave you Dad’s Thermos.
If you ran over a Big Mac with your Big Wheel, would you eat it? Even with the three-second rule? You would if it was labelled ‘deconstructed.’ Seared, caramelized, tender short-rib is surrounded by a paste of sesame ‘bun’ with sides of wild lettuce and house-made ketchup and mustard and mayo. The ‘Jetson’s’ theme song ends and a commercial jingle begins: “Two whole-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun…”
You can’t lick the bowl, but you can lick the beaters, when the beaters have leftover ‘foie-sting.’ Hot apple cider donut holes curl up against a single beater, dripping with sweet foie gras puree.
Course after course, presented magnificently, all leading to this. One, final, and most spectacular course. The encore to the encore to the encore…
I’m not telling. I don’t have to. You’re not the boss of me! MOMMY!!!
Bob Bounce is the pen name of a Northwestern University student working on his masters. He is married to Sue Donym and together they raise two Chia Pets whom they plan to let slowly die from neglect.
