ELEMENT

He says:
Element is a “gastro-lounge and food lab” that defiantly treads the razor’s edge between the high and the low. Take the location, for example. Element is situated along the trendy Crescent Street dining district, but it sits next door to an electronics shop that rents A/V equipment (I could see the billboard ad from my window seat). Then take the bathroom. The men’s room sink is a raised glass bowl with a brilliantly polished steel faucet curved overhead like the neck of a swan. It’s a chichi touch you see in expensive restaurants. But the hand-soap beside the faucet is a plastic bottle of Softsoap®, complete with a fashionable purple dispensing head. The lounge’s understated taupe walls and forgettable paintings are far less impressive than the interiors found in other Midtown eateries. And yet while its glamorous Crescent Street brethren churn out staid meal after staid meal, it is Element that is blazing a bold new path through the Atlanta restaurant scene.

She says:
As soon as we were seated, the onslaught began. Before we even had the chance to order drinks, our waiter began to bombard us with plate after dazzling plate of amuses-bouche. Our taste buds were tickled by the “chips and salsa”: a thin, crispy potato chip with a small square of translucent jello on top that, when chewed, dissipated into a mouthful of ripe tomatoes, piquant onions, and fresh cilantro. At least, that’s what it tasted like.

Before we could swallow, a second teaser had arrived… thinly sliced dried chorizo, topped with chorizo powder and nitrogenized chocolate. I loved the combo of the spicy, salty sausage and sweet, yet slightly bitter chocolate.

What came next... Was it the margarita transformed with liquid nitrogen into an alcoholic slushy? Or the “nigiri," a square of sharp cheese (manchego?) topped with a sliver of cantaloupe and beet beads? We were quickly getting a sense of why Element is referred to as a “food lab.”

The mad scientist behind it all, chef Richard Blais, certainly seems to be on the cutting edge of cooking. Using postmodern culinary techniques such as cryogenics and sous vide methods, and combining unlikely flavors like chorizo and chocolate, he is creating a truly revolutionary dining experience at Element. But there was no time to contemplate the hyper-modernity of the food, as the small complimentary plates were still coming…

He says:
The “watermelon caviar,” tiny balls of gelatin infused with watermelon essence, wasn’t as innovative as the chips and salsa. But the next taster—a fluffy nugget of nitrogenized yogurt garnished with salty olive and tangy cherry—was a knockout. With such an original start, we couldn’t wait to see what the kitchen would do with the main plates.

She says:
The summer salad, with avocado and cantaloupe, was just a salad. But our next plate didn’t disappoint. The broiled eel was delicate, slightly crisp on top, the meat faintly sweet and fatty. Served alongside was a horseradish foam and chunks of watermelon, the unlikely combination came together into a zesty, sweet, subtly briny burst.

He says:
The chicken sous vide that followed was a remarkable dish. I’d read about the sous vide cooking method, how items are placed with marinades into a vacuum-packed bag, then cooked in varying temperatures of water for hours, sometimes days, and how this method can maintain, even improve, the integrity of ingredients. But reading about something and tasting it are two completely different experiences.

So often breast meat is overcooked and dry, and even those that are well-prepared have a characteristic toughness that is a by-product of the heating process. But Element’s chicken breast was so soft and tender that I can only describe it as “silky.” The seasonings had penetrated deep into the meat so that every bite was rich with pepper and herbs. Better still, the chicken was paired with zucchini slices fused around a filling to form a pseudo-ravioli. All of this lay over a light green lima bean puree which bore an uncanny resemblance to wasabi and complemented the delicacy of the chicken.

She says:
I’m really not sure what is meant by “carbonized” octopus, but whatever it is, it works. In my experience, octopus – however delicious – is always rubbery, but the carbonized octopus was wonderfully tender. It had been cooked tandoori style and coupled with a zesty chipotle sauce to become, essentially, barbeque octopus. The flavors were great, although I thought the taste of the octopus itself was ultimately overpowered.

He says:
I was still a bit hungry since most of these plates are more like tapas than full entrees, so I finished off with a cheeseburger and foie gras milkshake. The cheeseburger was disappointing, an overcooked burger patty served with blue cheese, though I did appreciate the lowbrow cuteness of the wax paper wrapper (think junior high cafeteria). As for the highbrow foie gras milkshake, it tasted exactly like a milkshake. I suppose that was the point, though I cannot rationalize spending $4 on a shot glass of duck liver milkshake in the future if I can’t taste the duck liver.

She says:
And you can rationalize eating foie gras, period?

For dessert, I had a dense chocolate cake layered with a cherry filling, seated in strawberry water, and topped with basil sorbet. Yum. Strawberry water sounds like something in a dream…

He says:
My vanilla panna cotta with cola-flavored syrup and cracker jacks was satisfying, but overly sweet and not nearly as complex as Uptown Girl’s dessert. Overall, I’d say the desserts at Element still need to catch up with the creativity of the appetizers and entrees. That said, for an extra $18 we could have sprung for the liquid nitrogen ice cream kit…

We say:
Go to Element for the experimental cooking. Go for the unique food combinations. Go for the organic ingredients or the liquid nitrogen margaritas. For goodness sakes, go for the deluge of complimentary tasters—just go!




Element
1051 West Peachtree Street, Atlanta, GA 30309
http://www.elementmidtown.com/