I like to think of myself as adventurous, even though I know I’m delusional. I usually say, “I’ll try anything once!” Well, it turns out I’m a big liar.
I won’t try Cotton Candy Foie Gras.
Mmmhmm. You heard me. Call me boring. Call me simple. Call me picky. I don’t care. I won’t eat it. You can’t make me.
So here’s the back story: as part of that exhausting tour that had me jumping all over the country for three weeks, I had to arrange a few swanky dinners. My goal was to find the hottest, newest, most interestingest restaurant in whatever city we were visiting at the time. That’s how I ended up at Jose Andres’ Bazaar.
If you’re not a foodie (or no one pays you to be a foodie for three weeks out of the year) you probably haven’t heard of Jose Andres. Basically, his thing is deconstructing food. Which, you know, THANK GOD, because if there’s one thing wrong with the world today, it’s that our food is overly constructed. What? Exactly.
Think foam – food foam, that is. Foie gras cotton candy starts to make a little more sense, right? I did manage to get down a bit of potato foam and lemon air. See? I’m still a teeny bit adventurous.
If you order a bagel and lox, you get this.
If you want to get a real feel for just how crazy the place is, read No Salad’s review. It’s got real sentence structure, lovely photos, and everything. I however, just want to talk about the liquid olives.
So, yes. A liquid olive. Andres deconstructed an olive. An olive, people. Are you giggling as hard as I am right now?
I’ll let No Salad describe the process:
Olives, Modern and Traditional. An homage to Andres’ mentor. Adries created the liquid olive a few years back and made it a signature dish in his legacy of culinary innovation. The process called “spherification” uses Alginate to create egg-yolk like spheres of liquefied green olives. The spheres are then marinated in olive oil and served on tasting spoons. The delicate contraptions literally explode in your mouth releasing its intensely flavored olive juice.
So I tried one. Yes, it exploded and filled my mouth with olive juice – which is not the grossest thing to ever explode in my mouth, so fine. But whatever that casing is? It’s chewy. And slimy. And incredibly similar in color and texture to the incredibly sexy stuff that Mucinex and hot showers enables me to hack up into my mouth between thirty and seventy-two times a day.
Ok look back at that picture. Now…*hack, cough, sneeze, hack, chew, spits in napkin, hack, cough, points at green glob in tissue* …look at this. See?!?
Some days, the most adventurous a girl can get is a good old fashioned Cheerwine Donut. I can handle that mouth explosion. Though I’m not entirely sure they pair well with Elly-made liquid olives.
Happy Holiday Weekend, my pretties.