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A Conversation with Wylie Dufresne

A Conversation with Wylie Dufresne


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It was recently announced that Chef Wylie Dufresne, one of the leaders of the country's modernist cooking movement, would be closing down the acclaimed, 11-year-old wd~50 on New York City's Lower East Side. Dufresne has gained national recognition for his cutting-edge creativity, receiving awards including the 2013 James Beard Award for "Best Chef New York City" and a Michelin star, which he has maintained every year at wd~50 since the founding of the Michelin's first American edition, in 2006.

It is a set-back that we are sure will open up many new opportunities for the famed chef, who, prior to striking out on his own, served as sous chef at Jean Georges in New York City and chef de cuisine at Prime in The Bellagio, Las Vegas. Today, Dufresne also oversees the kitchen at Alder in New York City's East Village, a restaurant that reflects a more approachable interpretation of his modernist leanings.

Earlier this year, we spoke to Dufresne about his influences, his unique perspective and what's next for him as a chef.


The Epicurious Blog


Guest blogger Joshua David Stein concludes his series of dispatches from the front lines of modern cooking with Wylie Dufresne of New York City&aposs wd-50 and Alder. Follow his journey in our Modern Cooking Essentials series.

For years I had cooked in the prison of recipes, shackled by inherited wisdom. Precise measures of teaspoons had become a one-ton lodestone. Nine weeks ago, I undertook a quest for liberation at the hands of chef Wylie Dufresne, exploder of culinary mores. Modernist cuisine would set me free.

In the beginning, I anticipated that Wylie would furnish me with a long list of must-have gear including things I&aposm sure my wife would never allow into the house. Vitamix? OK. Combi oven? Nope.

Instead he was like High Aldwin in Willow. The magic, he told me, was in my finger. "Modernist cuisine," he said, "is a mindset." In Wylie&aposs view, modernist cuisine has little to do with gadgetry and a lot to do with knowledge and intellectual curiosity. "At it&aposs heart, it&aposs a quest for knowledge."

Wylie let me in on his inspirations, from The Grateful Dead to a childhood memory of his mother&aposs soft scrambled eggs. He gave into my gadget-yearning with his list of essential modernist pantry tools for the home cook and humbly detailed his biggest kitchen disasters including a "really wrong" Bacon Yogurt and a painful Beer-and-Finger Mash. Then he shared four exclusive recipes from his restaurants including Shrimp Grits, Squash-Roasted Peanut Soup with "Fig" Tobacco, Root Beer Pudding, and Crun-Chewy Arare Rice Treats. As a final test of modernity, I took to my pantry.

It was a Thursday. I was home alone and hungry. FreshDirect had yet to arrive and so the only two options for lunch were Rice Krispies, which I ate already for breakfast, or a permutation of spaghetti carbonara. Wylie is an egg-lover. I too am a lover of eggs. Eggs in pasta, with pancetta and cheese? Sweet Jesus of the cardiac arrest, that&aposs delicious.

But I soon slipped into the prison of habitual patterns. One hand grasping the spaghetti, I began searching for a recipe--any recipe--that I could follow. But then, I thought, WWWDD? What would Wylie Dufresne do?

What, after all, do I love about spaghetti carbonara? I love the pancetta. I love the eggs. I&aposm meh about the pasta. And so, I set about making a spaghetti carbonara frittata. I cooked the pasta. I caramelized onions and crisped bacon in a skillet. I shaved some Pecorino. I was just spitballing in that kitchen, twirling like a dervish, free as a bird. I added eggs to my skillet and scrambled them. I mixed in the pasta and put the whole thing in the oven.

A few minutes later, my modernist masterpiece came out. All I had used was a skillet and my mind. Was it delicious? Was it refined? Well, not exactly. But as I served myself a slice of it and brought the carbonara frittata to my mouth I thought, "This is the taste of freedom. Thanks Wylie."


The Epicurious Blog


Guest blogger Joshua David Stein concludes his series of dispatches from the front lines of modern cooking with Wylie Dufresne of New York City&aposs wd-50 and Alder. Follow his journey in our Modern Cooking Essentials series.

For years I had cooked in the prison of recipes, shackled by inherited wisdom. Precise measures of teaspoons had become a one-ton lodestone. Nine weeks ago, I undertook a quest for liberation at the hands of chef Wylie Dufresne, exploder of culinary mores. Modernist cuisine would set me free.

In the beginning, I anticipated that Wylie would furnish me with a long list of must-have gear including things I&aposm sure my wife would never allow into the house. Vitamix? OK. Combi oven? Nope.

Instead he was like High Aldwin in Willow. The magic, he told me, was in my finger. "Modernist cuisine," he said, "is a mindset." In Wylie&aposs view, modernist cuisine has little to do with gadgetry and a lot to do with knowledge and intellectual curiosity. "At it&aposs heart, it&aposs a quest for knowledge."

Wylie let me in on his inspirations, from The Grateful Dead to a childhood memory of his mother&aposs soft scrambled eggs. He gave into my gadget-yearning with his list of essential modernist pantry tools for the home cook and humbly detailed his biggest kitchen disasters including a "really wrong" Bacon Yogurt and a painful Beer-and-Finger Mash. Then he shared four exclusive recipes from his restaurants including Shrimp Grits, Squash-Roasted Peanut Soup with "Fig" Tobacco, Root Beer Pudding, and Crun-Chewy Arare Rice Treats. As a final test of modernity, I took to my pantry.

It was a Thursday. I was home alone and hungry. FreshDirect had yet to arrive and so the only two options for lunch were Rice Krispies, which I ate already for breakfast, or a permutation of spaghetti carbonara. Wylie is an egg-lover. I too am a lover of eggs. Eggs in pasta, with pancetta and cheese? Sweet Jesus of the cardiac arrest, that&aposs delicious.

But I soon slipped into the prison of habitual patterns. One hand grasping the spaghetti, I began searching for a recipe--any recipe--that I could follow. But then, I thought, WWWDD? What would Wylie Dufresne do?

What, after all, do I love about spaghetti carbonara? I love the pancetta. I love the eggs. I&aposm meh about the pasta. And so, I set about making a spaghetti carbonara frittata. I cooked the pasta. I caramelized onions and crisped bacon in a skillet. I shaved some Pecorino. I was just spitballing in that kitchen, twirling like a dervish, free as a bird. I added eggs to my skillet and scrambled them. I mixed in the pasta and put the whole thing in the oven.

A few minutes later, my modernist masterpiece came out. All I had used was a skillet and my mind. Was it delicious? Was it refined? Well, not exactly. But as I served myself a slice of it and brought the carbonara frittata to my mouth I thought, "This is the taste of freedom. Thanks Wylie."


The Epicurious Blog


Guest blogger Joshua David Stein concludes his series of dispatches from the front lines of modern cooking with Wylie Dufresne of New York City&aposs wd-50 and Alder. Follow his journey in our Modern Cooking Essentials series.

For years I had cooked in the prison of recipes, shackled by inherited wisdom. Precise measures of teaspoons had become a one-ton lodestone. Nine weeks ago, I undertook a quest for liberation at the hands of chef Wylie Dufresne, exploder of culinary mores. Modernist cuisine would set me free.

In the beginning, I anticipated that Wylie would furnish me with a long list of must-have gear including things I&aposm sure my wife would never allow into the house. Vitamix? OK. Combi oven? Nope.

Instead he was like High Aldwin in Willow. The magic, he told me, was in my finger. "Modernist cuisine," he said, "is a mindset." In Wylie&aposs view, modernist cuisine has little to do with gadgetry and a lot to do with knowledge and intellectual curiosity. "At it&aposs heart, it&aposs a quest for knowledge."

Wylie let me in on his inspirations, from The Grateful Dead to a childhood memory of his mother&aposs soft scrambled eggs. He gave into my gadget-yearning with his list of essential modernist pantry tools for the home cook and humbly detailed his biggest kitchen disasters including a "really wrong" Bacon Yogurt and a painful Beer-and-Finger Mash. Then he shared four exclusive recipes from his restaurants including Shrimp Grits, Squash-Roasted Peanut Soup with "Fig" Tobacco, Root Beer Pudding, and Crun-Chewy Arare Rice Treats. As a final test of modernity, I took to my pantry.

It was a Thursday. I was home alone and hungry. FreshDirect had yet to arrive and so the only two options for lunch were Rice Krispies, which I ate already for breakfast, or a permutation of spaghetti carbonara. Wylie is an egg-lover. I too am a lover of eggs. Eggs in pasta, with pancetta and cheese? Sweet Jesus of the cardiac arrest, that&aposs delicious.

But I soon slipped into the prison of habitual patterns. One hand grasping the spaghetti, I began searching for a recipe--any recipe--that I could follow. But then, I thought, WWWDD? What would Wylie Dufresne do?

What, after all, do I love about spaghetti carbonara? I love the pancetta. I love the eggs. I&aposm meh about the pasta. And so, I set about making a spaghetti carbonara frittata. I cooked the pasta. I caramelized onions and crisped bacon in a skillet. I shaved some Pecorino. I was just spitballing in that kitchen, twirling like a dervish, free as a bird. I added eggs to my skillet and scrambled them. I mixed in the pasta and put the whole thing in the oven.

A few minutes later, my modernist masterpiece came out. All I had used was a skillet and my mind. Was it delicious? Was it refined? Well, not exactly. But as I served myself a slice of it and brought the carbonara frittata to my mouth I thought, "This is the taste of freedom. Thanks Wylie."


The Epicurious Blog


Guest blogger Joshua David Stein concludes his series of dispatches from the front lines of modern cooking with Wylie Dufresne of New York City&aposs wd-50 and Alder. Follow his journey in our Modern Cooking Essentials series.

For years I had cooked in the prison of recipes, shackled by inherited wisdom. Precise measures of teaspoons had become a one-ton lodestone. Nine weeks ago, I undertook a quest for liberation at the hands of chef Wylie Dufresne, exploder of culinary mores. Modernist cuisine would set me free.

In the beginning, I anticipated that Wylie would furnish me with a long list of must-have gear including things I&aposm sure my wife would never allow into the house. Vitamix? OK. Combi oven? Nope.

Instead he was like High Aldwin in Willow. The magic, he told me, was in my finger. "Modernist cuisine," he said, "is a mindset." In Wylie&aposs view, modernist cuisine has little to do with gadgetry and a lot to do with knowledge and intellectual curiosity. "At it&aposs heart, it&aposs a quest for knowledge."

Wylie let me in on his inspirations, from The Grateful Dead to a childhood memory of his mother&aposs soft scrambled eggs. He gave into my gadget-yearning with his list of essential modernist pantry tools for the home cook and humbly detailed his biggest kitchen disasters including a "really wrong" Bacon Yogurt and a painful Beer-and-Finger Mash. Then he shared four exclusive recipes from his restaurants including Shrimp Grits, Squash-Roasted Peanut Soup with "Fig" Tobacco, Root Beer Pudding, and Crun-Chewy Arare Rice Treats. As a final test of modernity, I took to my pantry.

It was a Thursday. I was home alone and hungry. FreshDirect had yet to arrive and so the only two options for lunch were Rice Krispies, which I ate already for breakfast, or a permutation of spaghetti carbonara. Wylie is an egg-lover. I too am a lover of eggs. Eggs in pasta, with pancetta and cheese? Sweet Jesus of the cardiac arrest, that&aposs delicious.

But I soon slipped into the prison of habitual patterns. One hand grasping the spaghetti, I began searching for a recipe--any recipe--that I could follow. But then, I thought, WWWDD? What would Wylie Dufresne do?

What, after all, do I love about spaghetti carbonara? I love the pancetta. I love the eggs. I&aposm meh about the pasta. And so, I set about making a spaghetti carbonara frittata. I cooked the pasta. I caramelized onions and crisped bacon in a skillet. I shaved some Pecorino. I was just spitballing in that kitchen, twirling like a dervish, free as a bird. I added eggs to my skillet and scrambled them. I mixed in the pasta and put the whole thing in the oven.

A few minutes later, my modernist masterpiece came out. All I had used was a skillet and my mind. Was it delicious? Was it refined? Well, not exactly. But as I served myself a slice of it and brought the carbonara frittata to my mouth I thought, "This is the taste of freedom. Thanks Wylie."


The Epicurious Blog


Guest blogger Joshua David Stein concludes his series of dispatches from the front lines of modern cooking with Wylie Dufresne of New York City&aposs wd-50 and Alder. Follow his journey in our Modern Cooking Essentials series.

For years I had cooked in the prison of recipes, shackled by inherited wisdom. Precise measures of teaspoons had become a one-ton lodestone. Nine weeks ago, I undertook a quest for liberation at the hands of chef Wylie Dufresne, exploder of culinary mores. Modernist cuisine would set me free.

In the beginning, I anticipated that Wylie would furnish me with a long list of must-have gear including things I&aposm sure my wife would never allow into the house. Vitamix? OK. Combi oven? Nope.

Instead he was like High Aldwin in Willow. The magic, he told me, was in my finger. "Modernist cuisine," he said, "is a mindset." In Wylie&aposs view, modernist cuisine has little to do with gadgetry and a lot to do with knowledge and intellectual curiosity. "At it&aposs heart, it&aposs a quest for knowledge."

Wylie let me in on his inspirations, from The Grateful Dead to a childhood memory of his mother&aposs soft scrambled eggs. He gave into my gadget-yearning with his list of essential modernist pantry tools for the home cook and humbly detailed his biggest kitchen disasters including a "really wrong" Bacon Yogurt and a painful Beer-and-Finger Mash. Then he shared four exclusive recipes from his restaurants including Shrimp Grits, Squash-Roasted Peanut Soup with "Fig" Tobacco, Root Beer Pudding, and Crun-Chewy Arare Rice Treats. As a final test of modernity, I took to my pantry.

It was a Thursday. I was home alone and hungry. FreshDirect had yet to arrive and so the only two options for lunch were Rice Krispies, which I ate already for breakfast, or a permutation of spaghetti carbonara. Wylie is an egg-lover. I too am a lover of eggs. Eggs in pasta, with pancetta and cheese? Sweet Jesus of the cardiac arrest, that&aposs delicious.

But I soon slipped into the prison of habitual patterns. One hand grasping the spaghetti, I began searching for a recipe--any recipe--that I could follow. But then, I thought, WWWDD? What would Wylie Dufresne do?

What, after all, do I love about spaghetti carbonara? I love the pancetta. I love the eggs. I&aposm meh about the pasta. And so, I set about making a spaghetti carbonara frittata. I cooked the pasta. I caramelized onions and crisped bacon in a skillet. I shaved some Pecorino. I was just spitballing in that kitchen, twirling like a dervish, free as a bird. I added eggs to my skillet and scrambled them. I mixed in the pasta and put the whole thing in the oven.

A few minutes later, my modernist masterpiece came out. All I had used was a skillet and my mind. Was it delicious? Was it refined? Well, not exactly. But as I served myself a slice of it and brought the carbonara frittata to my mouth I thought, "This is the taste of freedom. Thanks Wylie."


The Epicurious Blog


Guest blogger Joshua David Stein concludes his series of dispatches from the front lines of modern cooking with Wylie Dufresne of New York City&aposs wd-50 and Alder. Follow his journey in our Modern Cooking Essentials series.

For years I had cooked in the prison of recipes, shackled by inherited wisdom. Precise measures of teaspoons had become a one-ton lodestone. Nine weeks ago, I undertook a quest for liberation at the hands of chef Wylie Dufresne, exploder of culinary mores. Modernist cuisine would set me free.

In the beginning, I anticipated that Wylie would furnish me with a long list of must-have gear including things I&aposm sure my wife would never allow into the house. Vitamix? OK. Combi oven? Nope.

Instead he was like High Aldwin in Willow. The magic, he told me, was in my finger. "Modernist cuisine," he said, "is a mindset." In Wylie&aposs view, modernist cuisine has little to do with gadgetry and a lot to do with knowledge and intellectual curiosity. "At it&aposs heart, it&aposs a quest for knowledge."

Wylie let me in on his inspirations, from The Grateful Dead to a childhood memory of his mother&aposs soft scrambled eggs. He gave into my gadget-yearning with his list of essential modernist pantry tools for the home cook and humbly detailed his biggest kitchen disasters including a "really wrong" Bacon Yogurt and a painful Beer-and-Finger Mash. Then he shared four exclusive recipes from his restaurants including Shrimp Grits, Squash-Roasted Peanut Soup with "Fig" Tobacco, Root Beer Pudding, and Crun-Chewy Arare Rice Treats. As a final test of modernity, I took to my pantry.

It was a Thursday. I was home alone and hungry. FreshDirect had yet to arrive and so the only two options for lunch were Rice Krispies, which I ate already for breakfast, or a permutation of spaghetti carbonara. Wylie is an egg-lover. I too am a lover of eggs. Eggs in pasta, with pancetta and cheese? Sweet Jesus of the cardiac arrest, that&aposs delicious.

But I soon slipped into the prison of habitual patterns. One hand grasping the spaghetti, I began searching for a recipe--any recipe--that I could follow. But then, I thought, WWWDD? What would Wylie Dufresne do?

What, after all, do I love about spaghetti carbonara? I love the pancetta. I love the eggs. I&aposm meh about the pasta. And so, I set about making a spaghetti carbonara frittata. I cooked the pasta. I caramelized onions and crisped bacon in a skillet. I shaved some Pecorino. I was just spitballing in that kitchen, twirling like a dervish, free as a bird. I added eggs to my skillet and scrambled them. I mixed in the pasta and put the whole thing in the oven.

A few minutes later, my modernist masterpiece came out. All I had used was a skillet and my mind. Was it delicious? Was it refined? Well, not exactly. But as I served myself a slice of it and brought the carbonara frittata to my mouth I thought, "This is the taste of freedom. Thanks Wylie."


The Epicurious Blog


Guest blogger Joshua David Stein concludes his series of dispatches from the front lines of modern cooking with Wylie Dufresne of New York City&aposs wd-50 and Alder. Follow his journey in our Modern Cooking Essentials series.

For years I had cooked in the prison of recipes, shackled by inherited wisdom. Precise measures of teaspoons had become a one-ton lodestone. Nine weeks ago, I undertook a quest for liberation at the hands of chef Wylie Dufresne, exploder of culinary mores. Modernist cuisine would set me free.

In the beginning, I anticipated that Wylie would furnish me with a long list of must-have gear including things I&aposm sure my wife would never allow into the house. Vitamix? OK. Combi oven? Nope.

Instead he was like High Aldwin in Willow. The magic, he told me, was in my finger. "Modernist cuisine," he said, "is a mindset." In Wylie&aposs view, modernist cuisine has little to do with gadgetry and a lot to do with knowledge and intellectual curiosity. "At it&aposs heart, it&aposs a quest for knowledge."

Wylie let me in on his inspirations, from The Grateful Dead to a childhood memory of his mother&aposs soft scrambled eggs. He gave into my gadget-yearning with his list of essential modernist pantry tools for the home cook and humbly detailed his biggest kitchen disasters including a "really wrong" Bacon Yogurt and a painful Beer-and-Finger Mash. Then he shared four exclusive recipes from his restaurants including Shrimp Grits, Squash-Roasted Peanut Soup with "Fig" Tobacco, Root Beer Pudding, and Crun-Chewy Arare Rice Treats. As a final test of modernity, I took to my pantry.

It was a Thursday. I was home alone and hungry. FreshDirect had yet to arrive and so the only two options for lunch were Rice Krispies, which I ate already for breakfast, or a permutation of spaghetti carbonara. Wylie is an egg-lover. I too am a lover of eggs. Eggs in pasta, with pancetta and cheese? Sweet Jesus of the cardiac arrest, that&aposs delicious.

But I soon slipped into the prison of habitual patterns. One hand grasping the spaghetti, I began searching for a recipe--any recipe--that I could follow. But then, I thought, WWWDD? What would Wylie Dufresne do?

What, after all, do I love about spaghetti carbonara? I love the pancetta. I love the eggs. I&aposm meh about the pasta. And so, I set about making a spaghetti carbonara frittata. I cooked the pasta. I caramelized onions and crisped bacon in a skillet. I shaved some Pecorino. I was just spitballing in that kitchen, twirling like a dervish, free as a bird. I added eggs to my skillet and scrambled them. I mixed in the pasta and put the whole thing in the oven.

A few minutes later, my modernist masterpiece came out. All I had used was a skillet and my mind. Was it delicious? Was it refined? Well, not exactly. But as I served myself a slice of it and brought the carbonara frittata to my mouth I thought, "This is the taste of freedom. Thanks Wylie."


The Epicurious Blog


Guest blogger Joshua David Stein concludes his series of dispatches from the front lines of modern cooking with Wylie Dufresne of New York City&aposs wd-50 and Alder. Follow his journey in our Modern Cooking Essentials series.

For years I had cooked in the prison of recipes, shackled by inherited wisdom. Precise measures of teaspoons had become a one-ton lodestone. Nine weeks ago, I undertook a quest for liberation at the hands of chef Wylie Dufresne, exploder of culinary mores. Modernist cuisine would set me free.

In the beginning, I anticipated that Wylie would furnish me with a long list of must-have gear including things I&aposm sure my wife would never allow into the house. Vitamix? OK. Combi oven? Nope.

Instead he was like High Aldwin in Willow. The magic, he told me, was in my finger. "Modernist cuisine," he said, "is a mindset." In Wylie&aposs view, modernist cuisine has little to do with gadgetry and a lot to do with knowledge and intellectual curiosity. "At it&aposs heart, it&aposs a quest for knowledge."

Wylie let me in on his inspirations, from The Grateful Dead to a childhood memory of his mother&aposs soft scrambled eggs. He gave into my gadget-yearning with his list of essential modernist pantry tools for the home cook and humbly detailed his biggest kitchen disasters including a "really wrong" Bacon Yogurt and a painful Beer-and-Finger Mash. Then he shared four exclusive recipes from his restaurants including Shrimp Grits, Squash-Roasted Peanut Soup with "Fig" Tobacco, Root Beer Pudding, and Crun-Chewy Arare Rice Treats. As a final test of modernity, I took to my pantry.

It was a Thursday. I was home alone and hungry. FreshDirect had yet to arrive and so the only two options for lunch were Rice Krispies, which I ate already for breakfast, or a permutation of spaghetti carbonara. Wylie is an egg-lover. I too am a lover of eggs. Eggs in pasta, with pancetta and cheese? Sweet Jesus of the cardiac arrest, that&aposs delicious.

But I soon slipped into the prison of habitual patterns. One hand grasping the spaghetti, I began searching for a recipe--any recipe--that I could follow. But then, I thought, WWWDD? What would Wylie Dufresne do?

What, after all, do I love about spaghetti carbonara? I love the pancetta. I love the eggs. I&aposm meh about the pasta. And so, I set about making a spaghetti carbonara frittata. I cooked the pasta. I caramelized onions and crisped bacon in a skillet. I shaved some Pecorino. I was just spitballing in that kitchen, twirling like a dervish, free as a bird. I added eggs to my skillet and scrambled them. I mixed in the pasta and put the whole thing in the oven.

A few minutes later, my modernist masterpiece came out. All I had used was a skillet and my mind. Was it delicious? Was it refined? Well, not exactly. But as I served myself a slice of it and brought the carbonara frittata to my mouth I thought, "This is the taste of freedom. Thanks Wylie."


The Epicurious Blog


Guest blogger Joshua David Stein concludes his series of dispatches from the front lines of modern cooking with Wylie Dufresne of New York City&aposs wd-50 and Alder. Follow his journey in our Modern Cooking Essentials series.

For years I had cooked in the prison of recipes, shackled by inherited wisdom. Precise measures of teaspoons had become a one-ton lodestone. Nine weeks ago, I undertook a quest for liberation at the hands of chef Wylie Dufresne, exploder of culinary mores. Modernist cuisine would set me free.

In the beginning, I anticipated that Wylie would furnish me with a long list of must-have gear including things I&aposm sure my wife would never allow into the house. Vitamix? OK. Combi oven? Nope.

Instead he was like High Aldwin in Willow. The magic, he told me, was in my finger. "Modernist cuisine," he said, "is a mindset." In Wylie&aposs view, modernist cuisine has little to do with gadgetry and a lot to do with knowledge and intellectual curiosity. "At it&aposs heart, it&aposs a quest for knowledge."

Wylie let me in on his inspirations, from The Grateful Dead to a childhood memory of his mother&aposs soft scrambled eggs. He gave into my gadget-yearning with his list of essential modernist pantry tools for the home cook and humbly detailed his biggest kitchen disasters including a "really wrong" Bacon Yogurt and a painful Beer-and-Finger Mash. Then he shared four exclusive recipes from his restaurants including Shrimp Grits, Squash-Roasted Peanut Soup with "Fig" Tobacco, Root Beer Pudding, and Crun-Chewy Arare Rice Treats. As a final test of modernity, I took to my pantry.

It was a Thursday. I was home alone and hungry. FreshDirect had yet to arrive and so the only two options for lunch were Rice Krispies, which I ate already for breakfast, or a permutation of spaghetti carbonara. Wylie is an egg-lover. I too am a lover of eggs. Eggs in pasta, with pancetta and cheese? Sweet Jesus of the cardiac arrest, that&aposs delicious.

But I soon slipped into the prison of habitual patterns. One hand grasping the spaghetti, I began searching for a recipe--any recipe--that I could follow. But then, I thought, WWWDD? What would Wylie Dufresne do?

What, after all, do I love about spaghetti carbonara? I love the pancetta. I love the eggs. I&aposm meh about the pasta. And so, I set about making a spaghetti carbonara frittata. I cooked the pasta. I caramelized onions and crisped bacon in a skillet. I shaved some Pecorino. I was just spitballing in that kitchen, twirling like a dervish, free as a bird. I added eggs to my skillet and scrambled them. I mixed in the pasta and put the whole thing in the oven.

A few minutes later, my modernist masterpiece came out. All I had used was a skillet and my mind. Was it delicious? Was it refined? Well, not exactly. But as I served myself a slice of it and brought the carbonara frittata to my mouth I thought, "This is the taste of freedom. Thanks Wylie."


The Epicurious Blog


Guest blogger Joshua David Stein concludes his series of dispatches from the front lines of modern cooking with Wylie Dufresne of New York City&aposs wd-50 and Alder. Follow his journey in our Modern Cooking Essentials series.

For years I had cooked in the prison of recipes, shackled by inherited wisdom. Precise measures of teaspoons had become a one-ton lodestone. Nine weeks ago, I undertook a quest for liberation at the hands of chef Wylie Dufresne, exploder of culinary mores. Modernist cuisine would set me free.

In the beginning, I anticipated that Wylie would furnish me with a long list of must-have gear including things I&aposm sure my wife would never allow into the house. Vitamix? OK. Combi oven? Nope.

Instead he was like High Aldwin in Willow. The magic, he told me, was in my finger. "Modernist cuisine," he said, "is a mindset." In Wylie&aposs view, modernist cuisine has little to do with gadgetry and a lot to do with knowledge and intellectual curiosity. "At it&aposs heart, it&aposs a quest for knowledge."

Wylie let me in on his inspirations, from The Grateful Dead to a childhood memory of his mother&aposs soft scrambled eggs. He gave into my gadget-yearning with his list of essential modernist pantry tools for the home cook and humbly detailed his biggest kitchen disasters including a "really wrong" Bacon Yogurt and a painful Beer-and-Finger Mash. Then he shared four exclusive recipes from his restaurants including Shrimp Grits, Squash-Roasted Peanut Soup with "Fig" Tobacco, Root Beer Pudding, and Crun-Chewy Arare Rice Treats. As a final test of modernity, I took to my pantry.

It was a Thursday. I was home alone and hungry. FreshDirect had yet to arrive and so the only two options for lunch were Rice Krispies, which I ate already for breakfast, or a permutation of spaghetti carbonara. Wylie is an egg-lover. I too am a lover of eggs. Eggs in pasta, with pancetta and cheese? Sweet Jesus of the cardiac arrest, that&aposs delicious.

But I soon slipped into the prison of habitual patterns. One hand grasping the spaghetti, I began searching for a recipe--any recipe--that I could follow. But then, I thought, WWWDD? What would Wylie Dufresne do?

What, after all, do I love about spaghetti carbonara? I love the pancetta. I love the eggs. I&aposm meh about the pasta. And so, I set about making a spaghetti carbonara frittata. I cooked the pasta. I caramelized onions and crisped bacon in a skillet. I shaved some Pecorino. I was just spitballing in that kitchen, twirling like a dervish, free as a bird. I added eggs to my skillet and scrambled them. I mixed in the pasta and put the whole thing in the oven.

A few minutes later, my modernist masterpiece came out. All I had used was a skillet and my mind. Was it delicious? Was it refined? Well, not exactly. But as I served myself a slice of it and brought the carbonara frittata to my mouth I thought, "This is the taste of freedom. Thanks Wylie."


Watch the video: Ray Wylie Hubbard - Conversation with the Devil (June 2022).


Comments:

  1. Arno

    I apologize, but this answer doesn't work for me. Maybe there are options?

  2. Maskini

    Well done guy !!!!!!!!

  3. Helmutt

    I'm finite, I apologize, but it doesn't quite come close to me. Can the variants still exist?

  4. Volmaran

    quieter, everything is ok! everyone likes it, and me!

  5. Taucage

    As much as necessary.

  6. Dalkree

    I am final, I am sorry, but this answer does not approach me. Who else, what can prompt?

  7. Ruairidh

    I think he is wrong. I'm sure. I propose to discuss it. Write to me in PM, speak.



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