...as I aimlessly research chefs in a deft procrastination attempt,

I keep finding little morsels of enlightenment that make the procrastination completely worthwhile.

Allow me to introduce him. He is Graham Elliot Bowles, and he deserves his own Wikipedia page. Known for his chef-dom at Chicago restaurant Avenues in the Peninsula, he also presides over the eponymous graham elliot, where he upholds his reputation for serving unexpected things that tickle one's palate and seduce one's imagination.

As a high school senior, I haven't had the good fortune to dabble in his gastronomical ventures, so I'm relying on Frank Bruni's NY Times review to do the trick:
"Mr. Bowles has been known to serve crushed Altoids instead of mint jelly with lamb and to present diners with lollipops of foie gras encrusted with Pop Rocks. His cooking typifies another facet of this cuisine: the way it recruits junk food into the service of fancier dishes or creates highbrow versions of lowbrow classics.
'Why not go to the store and get the curiously strong mint?" Mr. Bowles said in a telephone interview, going on to reject "that horribly boring quote, 'I love to use farm-fresh products and local ingredients and European technique.''"

Irreverence and innovation, as anyone knows, are two surefire ways to win my heart.
Below, a deconstructed Caesar salad from graham elliot:
I like that the crouton is standing there like this immovable monument amid the frivolous ruffles of lettuce and anchovy.

passionfruit sponge between spirals of dehydrated prosciutto

thank you, grant achatz.
(i stalk)

A flurry of thoughts

Nothing really compares to the bliss of that mixture made by Crystal hot sauce and mayonnaise. It's too humble to realize its magnificence, but it is always there in its glorified state of almost-aioli to make my po-boy that much better.

My mind, body, and appetite almost collectively shut down Wednesday night when Grant Achatz of Alinea fame showed up as the guest judge on Top Chef. I wrote about Alinea a little while ago; though I have never been to the restaurant itself (I've never even been to Chicago), I have been enamored of molecular gastronomy for a while now. There was a fantastic article about it last year in the New York Times called "Food 2.0: Chefs as Chemists" (the link should be foot-noted) with which I completely credit my infatuation. The article mainly focused on Wylie Dufresne of WD-50 in the Lower East Side, but I've had a special culinary crush on Achatz ever since I stumbled upon him.

I think my fascination with molecular gastronomy is rooted in a deep appreciation for the whimsy and intellect that seem attributable to that kind of conceptual cooking. Suddenly, food is no longer food; food can't be divvied up into convenient pigeonholes. Molecular gastronomy is its own realm, not necessarily in terms of taste but undoubtedly in terms of thought. It seems as though every dish I've heard of -- from the knot foie that was mentioned in the Times article to the potato-and-truffle dish that quickly stole my heart -- is infused with a certain vivacity and wit. Tongue-in-cheek, refreshing... I like it all.

Now, of course, I just need to taste it, since all my observations are purely speculative...

Raphe and I went back to Mahony's today and it's quickly rising into my canon of favorite po-boy shops. I realized today that it has a unique inviting quality; Domilise's still trumps them all in terms of flavor, but I go so rarely because the atmosphere there is dark and almost intimidating. At Mahony's, I feel more than welcome to hunker down, watch a football game with my little brother, and ask to have the rest of the onion rings wrapped up (they make for surprisingly good leftovers when they're toasted!). My sandwich comprised of grilled shrimp with fried green tomatoes and remoulade... mmmm. I'm living on the edge and stepping out of my po-boy comfort zone! And, today, I'm quite glad I did.

Now I get to look forward to cozying up with M.F.K. Fisher's The Art of Eating -- my poetry teacher told me about her and I am SO excited to delve into Gastronomical Me. She has everything at this point to suggest that I would desperately want to befriend her if she was still alive. Maybe I'm flattering myself, but she sounds like a kindred spirit.