1. CHICAGO, THE WORLD: NEXT (953 W Fulton Market)
See a large golden egg floating in a cloud of white foam in a white gold-rimmed bowl, upon a low pagoda of stacked white gold-rimmed porcelain—saucer, plate, and charger. You are at NEXT Restaurant in Chicago.
NEXT is a younger sibling of chef Grant Achatz’s famous molecular gastronomy restaurant Alinea, the best restaurant in the world (in Chicago). I hope to be dining at Alinea day 79 of my culinary race around the world (fingers crossed). Like Alinea, NEXT is all about innovation. Achatz’s kitchen is part R&D lab, part avant-garde art studio. Where Alinea features a single always-evolving tasting-menu, NEXT organizes its menus around themes—such as “Childhood,” “The Hunt,” “Paris 1906,” “Tokyo,” etc. The theme changes three or four times a year. There are no walk-ins or reservations. You have to buy a ticket, as to a concert. You can subscribe to NEXT, like to a season of opera (the price point is similar). Its latest menu is called “World’s Fair.”
“Your first course,” the server says, ”is ‘Tesla’s Egg.’”
At NEXT you don’t see a printed list of courses until the end of the meal. The paper menu serves as a souvenir, or relic of miracles experienced! This way you’ll be surprised by what’s coming, well, next. [Spoiler alert: I am about to describe the first course. If you want to be surprised, buy a ticket and read on afterwards.]
The glinting sphere surrounded in its snowy penumbra resembles a big goose-egg prepared sunny-side up, as if from the fairy-tale goose that laid the golden egg. The server explains that Nicola Tesla was invited to display one of his inventions at the 1893 World’s Fair. Tesla presented a large copper egg on a dish that with the press of button and a surge of invisible energy stood up and spun in a way that an object of such a shape, naturally, ought not to. This was a demonstration of magnetism. I don’t understand how it works. I’d like to say that my knowledge of engineering stops before 1893, but that would give a false impression. My knowledge of science and engineering stop with the invention of fire and the wheel, i.e., all that’s needed for cooking and plating. For me, “magnetic” might as well be a misspelling of “magic.” Somehow Nicola “the Wizard” Tesla made a metal egg stand up on end. Just as somehow the cooks at NEXT concoct their “Tesla’s Egg.”
But NEXT’s achievement, like Tesla’s, isn’t simply a triumph of science. Both eggs make a philosophical statement, recalling the legendary egg of Christopher Columbus. This was apropos as the Chicago World’s Fair was called the Columbian Exhibition, for the 400 year anniversary of Columbus’s arrival in America.
The story of Columbus’s egg is also a story about dinner. After his first return to the Old World from the New, Columbus dined with some Spanish gentlemen, one of whom wondered aloud if the Italian navigator’s discovery was not actually so impressive. After all, Columbus’s “New World” had been there all along and surely someone—for example, some talented intrepid Spanish navigator, of which there were many—would have sooner or later “discovered” it. In other words, Columbus’s feat was a matter of courage and perseverance, yes, but also of dumb luck, not genius. In response, Columbus asked for an egg to be brought to the table. He challenged anyone to stand the egg up on its end. The egg passed around the table, from hand to hand, but none could make it stand. Columbus then took back the egg and, with a bit of force, brought it down upon the table, crushing its tip flat, and making it stand upright! The Spanish gentlemen protested: they didn’t know they could do that! Columbus raised his hand: Yes, anyone can make an egg stand on its end once everyone sees how it is done, but someone first must imagine and then prove to the world that it can be done. This anecdote, probably apocryphal, is a proverb about innovation.
Note that the achievement of NEXT rests upon the achievements of previous innovators, especially Spanish gentlemen, for example, Jose Andres, but most importantly Ferran Adria of El Bulli (NEXT has paid homage to both with themed menus). In addition to the particular contribution of any innovation, the surprise of a new discovery promises that there are other things out there to be discovered. Whether in the realm of geography, magnetism, or gastronomy, innovation is inspiring.
Especially inspiring is the experience of eating NEXT’s “Tesla’s Egg.” You break open its gleaming metallic shell by tapping it with the back of your spoon. For a moment the spoon is not for scooping but for striking, not a little shovel, but a hammer. For a moment, a tool you had taken for granted is used in a new way and seen in a new light. How many things we take for granted today were introduced at the World’s Fair in Chicago: the zipper and the light bulb inspire later courses on NEXT’s menu, as do the first hamburger, crackerjacks, Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, and the introduction of medicinal cod liver oil (mmm, delicious—I’m serious!). Most famously the Columbian Exhibition featured the Ferris Wheel, Chicago’s answer to the Eiffel tower in Paris. NEXT saves this for dessert. I will say no more about its spectacular presentation, but return to savoring “Tesla’s Egg.”
Struck by your spoon, the sunny dome shatters and sinks into the white foam. Sometimes you have to break something in order to make something. You inhale a rich aroma of earthiness rising from the bowl. Turn the spoon over, give it a stir, cracking the yellowy shell like crunchy chips, and scoop yourself a mouthful. Your lips are tickled by foam even before you taste the broth with the sweetness of onions. Small caviar pearls roll along your tongue and, when pressed against your palate, offer a satisfyingly salty pop. Scooping again, but deeper, you find something smooth, firm and soft, like the consistency of custard. Indeed it tastes like the savory inside of warm creme brulee, but with the earthy richness of mushroom—a dessert but savory, not an end, but a beginning.
Too soon it is gone. Over our empty bowls, we search for words to describe the experience. Talking about the experience makes it linger longer. Perhaps we could reconstruct the dish later at home in our kitchen. (I know how to use fire, the wheel, and now know two uses for a spoon.) Flattering ourselves with fantastic culinary ambitions is also part of the fun of NEXT. NEXT is sophisticated but not pretentious, good fun. My wife and I muse, “That was kind of like the ultimate potato chips and onion dip!” The server smiles wryly while taking away the bowls. “Imagine serving ‘Tesla’s Egg” for our Super Bowl party!” We laugh because the ordinary has become extraordinary, the familiar, rapturous, ineffable, wonderful, inspiring. The surprise of something new is not only interesting in itself, but it reminds us that our expectations of what is even possible are probably limited. Each new experience of the new inspires us to test our limits, question our habits, try to be better.
Summing up the evening on the drive home, I thought, that was an experience worth traveling for. Everyone ought to travel to Chicago to experience NEXT. NEXT is great, not only because the food tastes great, but because it helps you open your mind by opening your mouth. It offers bites that are sure to surprise and make you wonder.
