From internationally renowned Cooking Judge Snooty McSnoot-Snoot:
General Comments
First of all, a summery of this year's trends, at least among the works I tasted:
Many chefs decided to largely ignore the ingredients, creating dishes that had a few minor elements drawn from historical cooking practices and which utilized a couple of the elements as garnish and spice, but chose to not make either requirement central to their processes. This is, of course, certainly a valid design tactic (one I myself, as a veteran of this event, have been known to succumb to), and many did this to remarkable success, but I was surprised that so many chefs chose this route. All in all, this led to a more diverse group of entrees, perhaps, but a lesser sense of collective undertaking. Some loss, some gain.
Secondly, you could tell that there were many master chefs hailing from outside the Nixon & Edwards School of Culinary Iconoclasm (NESCI), previously the host of the Game Chef competition. This led to several more tradition-conscious entrees in this batch, as well as my becoming acquainted with the work of many cooks of whom I was not previously aware. Here's to increased diversity! Generally, the newcomers proved themselves to have A) quite respectable culinary chops and B) some rich, innovative thinking that hasn't yet appeared in any of the major cooking magazines (at least, not that I've come across). However, there were also a few interesting ideas that were discouraged, in their execution, by fairly pedestrian preconceptions of what was possible or necessary. Personally, I tend to favor more adventurous and groundbreaking choices, which require a bit more risk-taking on the part of the chefs!
That said, on to more specific comments about the creations I personally reviewed, in alphabetical order according to their creator (individual scores have been sent on to the Great Googly-Moogly Judge):
More than any entree in this group, Kenji-san's minimalist concoction proved that a dish doesn't have to be complex or extravagant to be tasty. Many modern chefs scoff at the idea that structured improvisation can generate rewarding culinary experiences, but I am of the opinion that Chef Baugham's iconic assemblage of elements and foundational guidelines for consumption constitutes adequate encouragement for diners to, at the very least, sample this entertainment.
If the Chef was merely to provide the dish with a complementary garnish and find an appropriate vessel in which to serve it, I can see it receiving a warm reception from connoisseurs with a taste for undemanding, rustic cooking.
[Aside: My main concern is the lack of some sort of resolution after the Woodcutter has finished what I suppose is a mostly true telling of the events. Is the Woodcutter 100% right? Do we find out what happens to the characters once the murderer is revealed? What provides closure?]
Bernstein-san's bold decision to tackle the gestures requirement, otherwise lacking in my allotment of dishes, is highly commendable, as is the way that particular element relates to the overall historical background of the period. Deftly handled! However, while many of the hearty ingredients of this hobo meal are quite savory when consumed individually, one wonders how this diverse brew would taste in after stewing together for several hours. Quite possibly, the various flavors would compete for the attention of the palate, instead of creating a unity greater than its individual parts.
That said, I find the native period and contents of this relatively modern dish to be quite provocative and tempting. Perhaps, if the Chef determines to make revisions that are not limited by the artificial constraints of this contest, they will be able to transcend the somewhat disintegrated nature of the current version and create something truly spectacular.
Rage! Sing, muse, of the rage of James, son of Brown the Unforgettable, of Bellerophon's line, heir to the Crown of Corith! That he has harnessed such rage in the creation of a harshly competitive, tactically-minded, and, shall we say, diplomatic garlic hummus and wine-soaked-olive-topped Grecian extravaganza is quite remarkable. It still bears to be seen, of course, how the strong flavors of the Mediterranean will balance out once the dish actually reaches the mouths of its intended partakers.
Will it be as striking to the tongue as it seems from the fierce aroma and clash of colors that please the other senses? Only prolonged rounds of taste testing will prove for sure. Getting just the right amount of Parmesan can be crucial. Until then, it remains an untried delicacy, however ripe with potential. Still, Chef "Red-Haired Menelaus" Brown is bound to be popular amongst the skull-crushing Amazon and thick-necked Achilles-worshipping crowds.
The next entry is quite possibly the most ambitious entry I have ever seen. Quite the bravado, Hillman-san purports to give us not a single dish but an entire meal composed to delights which date back to Fourth Dynasty Egypt, the latest in modern American cuisine, and even an extraterrestrial concoction from the far future. Perhaps he was influenced by Chef Greg Benage's infamous and rather draconian mixed-era creations. In any case, while his confidence is admirable, it appears that Sean has bitten off more than he can chew.
While the concept is interesting and the instruction to constantly switch between dishes would provide for a unique dining experience, the dishes themselves are a bit bland, lacking the rich local flavor that would be required to truly enjoy them. Overall, the whole structure seems a bit... contrived. The individual dishes appear to have relatively little in common. Why choose the cuisine of these specific periods, when another combination with greater synergy might lead to a more satisfying experience. Still, perhaps with a bit more work to bring out a stronger flavor and less rigidity, this could be made to perform quite nicely.
Allow me to preface this review by saying that I was really excited to taste Kelson-san's work. Few chefs have dared try their hand at recreating prehistoric cooking methods. There is what could be called the "Og School," but it never really goes beyond making a mockery of things. However, I was a little put off, right from the start, when I learned that no less than 10 hunters had perished in the act of felling the mammoth I was to enjoy. One is forced to wonder how long Kelson-san can continue to procure such meats, if the cost in human lives is so astronomical while humans (even early humans) have such a slow gestation and development rate, relatively speaking.
Additionally, upon suckling my portion of flame-roasted mammoth (quite similar to beef, for those interested), I found it to be much less evocative of post-Ice Age cultures than I had expected. While no one can be certain what prehistoric cuisine was actually like, Kelson's dish lacked, for me, the illusion of authenticity, and I was forced to appreciate his pesudo-archaic creation more as a product of modern fantastical imaginings, rather than an attempt to re-imagine the ways of early tribal peoples. This, unfortunately, overshadowed all other aspects of the meal, but, hopefully, my fellow judges will assist in providing a less clouded opinion.
I have previously praised the diversity of this year's competition and Chef Kim's entry, a turn-of-the-century English dish made with live butterfly larvae, is, thusly, a welcome addition. Cooking with living elements is not a practice commonly... er, practiced in this contest, but Kim-san takes the larvae and works them into much more traditional structural elements. This, no doubt, makes the resulting dish more accessible to our panel of judges.
Ultimately, the mixture of live larvae with tried and true British staples leads to some fascinating juxtapositions, where moving and motionless components must unite if the food is to be truly successful. Rushed, it appears, for time, Chef Kim was not able to put the finishing touches on this work and, as such, many of the elements appear less than fully integrated. Still, one hopes, given more time, that Kim-san will polish this up for a second attempt. The potential is certainly there. I, for one, will be waiting in line, fork in hand.
Proletarian dictatorships are not known for their exceptional advances in the culinary arts, but Lester-san nevertheless introduces us to the exciting world of Stalinist elites, the Commissars, who enjoy wine and other choice foods that the average worker-soldier-peasant can only dream about. Showing his respect for the renowned work of Monsieur Baker, Chef Lester hired a group of Commissars to, themselves, judge the dish before it's served (all the while working at subtle counter-purposes), thus ensuring its authenticity and tastiness. How very modern.
Overall, the dish seems quite expertly prepared, with all sorts of minor ingredients severing the larger work of the whole (in, one might add, true proletarian style). However, while I am no cooking slouch by any means, I confess that I'm unsure about the prospect of trying to recreate Chef Lester's performance in my own kitchen. Perhaps, with a good deal of practice and some additional explanation on the part of the chef, this challenge could be surmounted.
To begin, this devilish delight (how apt that Jason-san share a surname with Old Scratch!), along with Chef Paoletta's entry, is one of the most visually pleasing of all the dishes in this batch. While that fact is not supposed to influence the scoring, a good sense of presentation can certainly help to prepare the palate. Moving beyond this, I'm happy to announce that Chef Morningstar's creation tastes nearly as good as it looks. The captivating aromas lead one into what is surely a feast for lovers of temptation, risk, interesting choices, and, underneath it all, a hint of madness.
Morningstar-san has created an entertainment limited in scope, such that the choicest portions can only fall to a single lucky and competitive diner, one who has few qualms about elbowing his companions into acquiescence. However, one of the true strengths of his work is that, whoever manages to come out on top, all diners should enjoy the meal and the competitive spirit that it engenders. If only the chef had featured the required ingredients a bit more prominently in the dish's overall flavor, he might have walked away with a truly enviable score.
I was flat-out stunned by the level of detail and painstaking completeness with which Paoletta-san was able to render his imaginings onto the table. Drawing inspiration from the internationally famous Chef O'Brien (who runs Austin's extravagant Vietnamese Garden), Paoletta serves up a thick fish stew, an excellent pho bo, steamed dog's liver, and, unexpectedly, a side of extra strong coffee to jump start everyone at the table. His well thought out use of the required ingredients is especially noticeable, since all of them appear prominently and recognizably in the dishes.
While, speaking personally, the food here is a bit too intricate and complex for someone like myself with relatively simple tastes, it's unquestionable that Paoletta demonstrates a clear mastery of Vietnamese food, it's preparation and display, and the difficult skill of leading a team of subordinate chefs through the process of creating something wonderful. One hopes that he acquires some financial backing and sets himself up in a brand new venture in Soho, ready to dazzle all comers with exciting taste sensations. I know I will be sure to book an appointment with his next culinary excursion.
[Aside: I was, however, confused that the whole group is more likely to be successful if all the soldiers choose to follow orders (even obviously stupid orders or those that lead then into unexpected trouble). This doesn't make sense to me and seems less evocative of the source material.]
One thing that can be said about Chef Washbourne's contribution, eating it was certainly a calm, uneventful experience. While there was nothing that really made my stomach turn, there was nothing to excite it either; it was simply a very generic meal, all said. What the dishes seemed to be lacking was a sort of soul, the spirit of the chef coming through the food and declaring that "I, and no one else, was responsible for this creation." As it currently stands, I can imagine a great many chefs besides Washbourne-san who could have prepared dishes in the exact same vein as this one.
Might I suggest that Chef Washborne has yet to really find his personal voice, at least when it comes to this particular endeavor. Perhaps his other works, when not restricted by the constraints of this contest, exhibit more personal flare and pizzazz. I would recommend that, before continuing to tweak this particular entry, that Washbourne take a step back and consider what exactly he's trying to say with this meal. What kind of experience is he trying to create for his diners? Once he gets that clear and it able to communicate it through his cooking, I think his work will be much more successful.