The Distinguished Gourmand: Vespertine x Alinea

When we last checked in with Chef Jordan Kahn and his team at Vespertine, the Los Angeles restaurant was offering a take-out meal conceived in collaboration with Sean Brock of Husk Restaurant in Charleston (and also Savannah!). Mere days later (a week, maybe?) a new collaboration was announced, this time with Chef Grant Achatz of Alinea in Chicago. One of the most revered and and awarded restaurants in the world, Alinea is pretty much the gold standard for modern American cuisine.

In the intro to the QR Code menu for this dinner chef Kahn writes, “In 2005 the world of gastronomy was evolving towards a more creative realm and Alinea was at the forefront. Its kitchen was filled with a palpable drive for inventiveness and along with imaginative chefs such as Alex Stupak, John Shields, David Posey, Curtis Diffy, Dave Beran, and many others. To cook in the Alinea kitchen was to cook with a powerful form of energy, one that is created and fueled by Chef Achatz himself. It is responsible for some of the most profound experiences a diner can witness – the feeling of something new. This menu is a collection of iconic dishes from Alinea’s year one – a time when I worked alongside Chef Achatz in his Alinea kitchen.”

This most-recent Vespertine meal was a singular experience. The dishes were much, much different from the previous several take-home meals they have offered. I’m pretty sure every item included reheating/instructions for how to serve. It even required some effort from yours truly in order to pull off the complete meal. Here now is my best attempt to review everything, course by course.

One side note: the menu this time was actually the least informative yet in terms of details about each dish. Usually diners get a full description or story about what is being served. I didn’t know how much I liked this element of the meal until it was missing. I hope moving forward the folks at Vespertine resume sharing these details, as it adds color to the story Chef Kahn is telling. Especially in Covid times, when we’re eating at home and don’t have servers or chefs to describe what’s on the plate, it’s even more important to maintain that connection between chef and diner.

**Pear. Celery Leaf & Branch, Curry.** This course contains a liquid center of cool pear nectar. Served in a plastic shot glass, this bite (swallow?) provided a burst of juicy sweet/tart flavor.

**Oyster Cream. Lychee, Horseradish, Chervil**. The concept behind this dish involves using fruit to mimic the texture of an oyster. In this case, fresh lychees provide the soft, slightly chewy and gelatinous texture paired with a light custard cream infused with fresh oysters. I loved this dish in the best possible way. It really fucks with your senses because taste and texture the soft, slippery fruit really does come across oyster-like. It was also beautifully composed, which made it all the more spectacular.

**Duck. Pumpkin, Banana, Thai Aromatics**. This is one dish that had more intense instructions than normal. The soup and banana froth were to be warmed either in a microwave or on the stove in a saucepan, and there was a separate vessel for the warmed soup and froth. We were instructed to enjoy the bite of duck and garnishes first, then finish with the soup. I again *loved* this dish. The Thai spices in the garnishes were delightful, the duck perfect, and the soup/froth a revelation. I seriously could have consumed a pint or quart or gallon of that soup and froth. My word, it was outstanding.

**Halibut. Shellfish Custard, Hyacinth Vapor**. Chef Achatz describes this dish in the menu by writing, “Since the seasons are often identified by smells, it is natural to reinforce the seasonal approach with the support from aroma. When we begin to develop a season’s menu, we write down everything we associate with that season. The list is not limited to foodstuffs. We include activities such as grilling in the summer, the sounds of birds chirping, the still, dark dormancy of winter — basically the expression of the season. And it is then when we can put the puzzle together successfully – the pieces coming from the ingredients and the essences of the time – that the dish achieves the complexity we want. In this example, we compose a dish of poached halibut and shellfish, and unleash the fragrant perfume of hyacinth by dousing them with hot water in front of the guest, producing a sort of floral facial.” *You know what that means!* After steaming the halibut, I had to heat a kettle of water on the stove to 160 degrees, then pour the hot water over the included large bowl of flowers to release the perfume as we ate. The fish was perfect. The aromas were as vibrant as any plate of food I’ve ever been served (or helped serve myself!). It was all lovely. And Christine even ate her whole dish, which means it was *most* *definitely* a fine piece of fish.

**Beef. Elements Of Root Beer**. This dish needed to be reheated, sans fennel, either in the microwave or combination stove/steamer basket. Nothing else was written about this dish. This website gives an insane amount of detail, not so much about the history of the dish but some of the elements that comprise it. The meat itself was cooked perfectly, and the surrounding sauce/potato combo (which I assume is supposed to mimic the root beer and vanilla ice cream found in proper float) captured that magic wonderfully. I think Christine said at the time this was her favorite dish of the entire meal.

**Idiazabal. Maple, smoked salt.** This dish required just a quick blast in the oven for 30-seconds until the cheese started to melt. There wasn’t any info about this dish, but it felt kind of like a shrimp chip or an oversized, flat Cheeto. Only this one was cheesy with a touch of syrupy sweetness. I didn’t get any smoke from the smoked salt.

**Bacon. Butterscotch, Apple, Thyme.** There’s always one dish that doesn’t travel well when we order these meals from Vespertine, and obviously this was one the that was hurt in transit this time. The bacon was *very* smoky, which I loved. Beneath that was a fun sweet/savory element that made for a couple very yummy bites.

This one requires a slightly longer explanation. This is the Black Truffle Explosion. The dish came totally deconstructed, with its own set of instructions. It was one of the most daunting culinary adventures I’ve ever taken. First, I had to fill a stockpot with water and boil it. Once the water reached a boil I had to turn down the heat so it would simmer. While that was going on, in a sauté pan I had to bring the truffle butter and wilted romaine to a simmer. I used one of those one-egg pans to start the butter and romaine. The dumpling itself came in a special container like a tea infuser. I had to carefully remove it and drop it into the water to poach it for three minutes. When it was done, I transferred it to the sauté pan, and turned the explosion rounded-side down. I was instructed to drape 1 truffle slice and 1 wilted romaine strip over the top. Then I had to transfer it to a spoon and lay 1 slice of parmesan atop each one. If I told you I was sweating profusely trying my hardest not to fuck this up, you probably wouldn’t believe me. But, I swear, I was so intent on getting this right I think I gave myself a migraine. And I sweated through my clothes. But I did it. Check out that first photo! It looks pretty good, right?

So I brought the two explosions over to the dinner table, and gifted Christine hers. While we waited three minutes for the dish to cool — per the instructions — I read to her the description from the menu. “The center will burst with a flood of black truffle liquid, so it is important to make sure they are not too hot and that you enjoy it in one single bite. Do not attempt to cut or bite the explosion in half. The center is completely liquid and will result in a truffle disaster.”

Once cooled, Christine lifted the truffle explosion to her lips, and then — inexplicably, like a prospector trying to bite through a piece of gold — she bit the truffle explosion right in the center, spewing truffle juice across our new dining room table. The look I gave her as I watched her clean the explosion off the table was the same look my father once gave me when I told him I’d rather write a story using my set of hieroglyphic stamps than throw a baseball around with him in the yard. As she sulked away filled with shame I swore I would never share another Vespertine meal with her ever again.

**Chocolate. Avocado, Lime, Licorice.** As always, the dessert course was great. I loved the interplay between the chocolate and the lime. There’s…I think some kind of dehydrated lime crispy thing on top that was delightful. And the licorice syrup imparted a nice contrast that I don’t ordinarily like (I’m not a big licorice fan). But I implicitly trust in Chef Kahn’s desserts ever since his Red Medicine days so I dove into this with aplomb. It was a great way to conclude a fantastic meal.

And that’s my last Vespertine review for 2020. We’ll see what happens in 2021, but hopefully they will stick with this model until it’s safe to dine out again. As long as they keep offering these meals, I’ll keep reviewing them.

And now I’m caught up on my backlog of posts. I’m devoting the rest of my week to my annual Top Albums Of The Year list. Hopefully I’ll have it posted before New Years Eve.

Stay health and stay safe, Y’all.