food imitates art?

the list of things that i have forgotten in my twenty five years (and nine months!) on this planet could easily stretch to another planet - and we're not talking mar. probably at least saturn. maybe even uranus (har). but something very important that slipped my mind is the concept of food as an art form.

luckily, my stalwart dining companion revived this knowledge last night with a trip to clio, ken oringer's french-ish festival fatale located in the eliot hotel. upon our arrival, we were greeted with the knowledge that oringer had recently competed (and won!) on an episode of top chef. based on the culinary maestro's triumph, a tasting menu complete with wine pairings and selections of cheese had been compiled - would we? oh, we would, and please sir, may we have another?

any of you have probably seen more episodes of top chef than yours truly. yes, i work in tv, but i barely own one, and we're set up to receive minimal channels these days - why bother when all you need is PBS? what's a juicy episode of the hills when compared to a nova special on sea serpents? (i jest.) what i did note immediately is that coffee was surely the common denominator ingredient in that particular round of competition, because our tasting menu was sprinkled liberally with espresso crumbles and latte-like bases.

i'm embarrassed to say that i don't remember the exact details of everything i ate for several reasons. 1. there were five courses. 2. i've never experienced anything like this before. 3. oringer delights in the oddest, most complex, and perfect combinations, and 4. i left a little tipsy (don't die of shock). every course was a conversation stopper; i literally forgot myself mid-sentence, enjoying tastes that uncovered themselves slyly layer by layer on my unsuspecting taste buds.

my seminal encounter with french food was cassolette of sea urchin and lobster featuring parsnips, celery root, candied lemon, coffee, crispy shallots, and several forms of chili pepper floating on a bed of foam. secondarily, a silky two hour deviled egg (premium dunkability for those of us who still had a roll kicking around) with brioche, mushroom and jerusalem artichoke (and our first encounter with mind-melting espresso crumbles). third, a white salsify soup/fondue - black and white truffles and bitter cocoa. fourth, (served with a belgian beer aptly named kwak to complement the spices) venison and foie gras with some form of butternut squash drizzle, buttery spinach and espresso crumbles. sadly, i can only report that i became highly infatuated with foie gras in that moment. the rest of the details escape me; i was busily trying to keep up with the rotation of wine glasses. a plate of cheese, candied walnuts and fruit/nut bread transitioned us from savory to sweet, and we wrapped neatly with a hollow ball of a sort of frozen chocolate mousse (created with balloons and liquid nitrogen) and various sauces. one tap with a fork was enough to explode this all over the plate.

cue the stumble home. best of the best.

need more incentive to visit boston? feast your eyes: click on the "food" link for a barely legal display.