“Buddy Higgs has completed a number of internships in well-known kitchens, and dreams of opening his own restaurant. He takes the nouveau cuisine of Grant Achatz in Chicago and the former chef Ferran Adrià at El Bulli as his models. He would love to bring the sophistication of molecular gastronomy to the American public.”
I fidgeted silently. Molecular gastronomy—replete with its foams, fumes, tubes of aspic, tubs of foie gras, and peculiar combinations and arrangements of spices—was something I felt the public could safely ignore. Higgs must have been the creator of yesterday’s oddball lobster salad over which Chef Adam and the now-deceased Sam Rizzoli had swooned. I remembered tasting parsnip chips, caviar, jalapeños, saffron threads, mustard seeds, and god only knows what else in the lobster dish. I also remembered yearning for some simple steamed lobster meat and a ramekin of melted butter.
“I’m curious, Mr. Higgs,” I said. “Why should the public take an interest in molecular gastronomy? My impression has been that the techniques are so complicated, and the results so, well, odd, that most folks—your TV viewers—will find this type of cuisine way over their heads. They cook with pots and stoves, not test tubes and Bunsen burners.”
Buddy Higgs cleared his throat and touched a finger to his mustache, which undulated like a struggling caterpillar. “I believe you underestimate the public, Miss Snow.” He leaned forward and tapped on the table in front of me. “Chef Ashatz,” he said, “is purely a genius. What he has been able to do—and what I hope to expand upon—is to make his dining customers think.”
“Example, please,” said Chef Adam.
“Who says surf and turf has to be plain old lobster and steak? Why not a dish pairing foie gras with anchovies?” Buddy smiled slyly.
I could only think how grateful I was that he hadn’t prepared this yesterday. First of all, anchovies remind me of hair-covered fish bait. Paired with foie gras? I would have struggled to choke it down.
“What would be the point of that?” asked Toby, her forehead furrowed.
“The point is not to present mounds of fatty food for already-overweight patrons to gobble,” said Buddy. “The point is to challenge people as they eat. Food should be stimulating for the mind as well as the palate!”
For the first time, I saw the spark of creativity and joy that he hoped to convey in his cooking. But I still wasn’t dying to try more of it, nor did I imagine him as a popular TV personality. Maybe a small cult audience would follow him.
Peter surged forward, clapped Buddy on the back, and directed him to take the stool next to Randy. “Thank you, Mr. Higgs. Panelists? Your impressions?”
“I may be too simpleminded,” said Toby, “but I don’t quite get why I should have to think this hard over dinner.”
“He’s an interesting fellow,” I said, “and I can imagine the first few episodes making quite a splash. After that?” I shook my head. “I believe viewers would lose interest. Most Americans wouldn’t have a single one of his ingredients in their larder.”
“He’s cutting-edge. He’s brilliant,” said Chef Adam grimly. “Can’t you see the difference between choosing someone who cooks like his doddering grandmother and a host who is a brilliant professional?”
After a few more minutes, Peter cut off further discussion and brought forward Henrietta Stentzel, the third chef candidate. I sunk a little lower in my chair and avoided looking at her face.
“Please meet chef Henrietta Stentzel, Henri to her friends,” said Peter. “Ms. Stentzel owns and operates a burrito restaurant in Key West, and is the former owner of Hola on Miami Beach. Judges, you will remember her for her seafood fra diavolo presentation.” He guided her to the hot seat and backed away. “Take it away, judges.”
“I’m puzzled,” said Chef Adam. “You chose to present an Italian dish and yet your background appears to be in Mexican food. Explain.”
Henri grinned, looking everywhere but at me. “I love all kinds of food, but Mexican seafood dishes are not my favorite part of that ethnic tradition. On the other hand, when I’m in a restaurant that offers anything in a fra diavolo sauce, I leap to order it. If I were to land this show, I would love to share a variety of dishes with the viewers. My techniques are not overly complicated, but I like to spread the word about seasonal foods, along with spices that may not be common to the American palate.”
“It sounds like such a show might appeal to a niche market, rather than the broader public,” Toby said.