Got to admit, there's just a little bit of the day after Christmas feeling today.


I've been following The Mist Project since it was a just a gleam in Chef Gavin's eye. I was lucky enough to eat at the first one in Park City in 2008. I met with Gavin when he was in the early stages of planning Mist: Salt Lake and have followed the pop-up's evolution.


Last night, I finally experienced it.


Here's Part One the course-by-course.


Sorry, but I ate dinner last night from 8 p.m. well past midnight–I can't do it even on paper just a day later, and I doubt any reader could make it to the end of a blog that long.
So here's 5 out of 15 courses. More later.


Every diner received a sealed envelope of cards: the menu. On the front and back of each card was an illustration of a dish, interpretations of Chef Gavin's original sketches. Way cute. And useful, since no one could remember the description of the dishes the waiters recited as they served. Especially after a couple glasses of wine.  


First course: A rosewood plate holding a folded napkin closed with a wooden clothespin. Inside, a fennel seed, golden raisin and semolina roll and an olive walnut roll. Little dishes of clarified butter for spreading.


My two cents: It was a pretty humble beginning for what is being billed as the world's best moveable feast. But the flavors of the bread are remarkably vivid, even though it was hard for me to fully enjoy finishing a piece of bread when I knew there were 14 courses to come. And, though the card labeled the napkin "Egyptian cotton," I wasn't the only one at our table who doubted it.


Second course: Sporks: a pair of spoons with handles that are forks. The idea is that the bit on the fork complements the bite in the spoon. This is the culinary students' course, and changes every night. Ours were five-spice tuna tartare on cauliflower royale, backed by a sliver of custard apple, and compressed watermelon with black sesame, backed by a fresh piece of mint leaf.


My two cents: These were both tiny bright bites, but what intrigued me the most was the idea of compressing watermelon, ridding it of a lot of water so the watermelon flavor was intensified. I can imagine so many dishes where this technique could take a dish from good to fantastic.


Third course: Two shot glasses and a test tube rested in holes in a polished.  wood cylinder. The test tube held a pastry pirouette filled with creamy foie gras parfait. One shot glass held a smoky duck tea; the other, a barley risotto with bits of sweet potato, feta cheese and duck confit.


My two cents: This was a brilliant way to serve foie gras mousse; I could have eaten a plateful of these. And then, no doubt, been sick. The smoky scent of the amber duck tea was utterly seductive, and the clear strong liquid was bone simple. I suspect it would cure a cold.


Fourth course: Sticks. Three wooden-handled lollipops sticking out of another piece of wood–one of pork belly garnished with umami, another of barley gelato, surprisingly good, like hazelnuts. In the middle, a paper cone of popcorn with sage, white cheddar, candied bacon and powdered bacon fat.


My two cents: I want powdered bacon fat on my grocery store shelves. And when are movie theaters going to get with the gastronomic program and offer popcorn toppings?


Fifth course: Beets, beets, beets. But such beets. Roasted beet slice, a meringue wafer, a blob of chevre, a dab of arugula, pickled beet, beet gelee, red wine gelee and a mass of chorophyll honey bubbles. Oh, and some truffle oil.

My two cents:As startling as this jellied and bubbled presentation is, the flavors are familiar–who hasn't had a beet salad with goat cheese lately? This dish alters the expected appearance and textures, messing with your taste memory and imagination at the same time, which I think is one of the points of molecular gastronomy. Mouth feel and appearance are cues, or clues, as to what you're going to taste–rearrange those and you're starting to play with your senses. (The only off-note to me was the truffle oil–it overwhelmed the other flavors with its weird chemical aroma. But it was pretty easily avoided) 

At any rate, the beet dish really lived up to what I hoped the Mist experience would be.


Time for intermission.