Dining
Not So Fast Food Chef Jeremy Barlow weighs in on the Quarter Pounder with fries.
Foie gras, marinated in gewürztraminer and sauterne and encrusted in sesame seeds, will debut alongside a grilled scallop as Barlow’s interpretation of two all-beef patties. The role of Special Sauce will be played by a chiffonade of basil and mint. Feta aioli will stand in for American cheese.
Far from fast food, Tayst’s McDonald’s Chant Dinner will take days to prepare. With 36 hours to go, Barlow begins vacuum-packing salmon—fresh from the Columbia River in Washington State—for his rendition of Filet-O-Fish, prepared in the sous vide method. As the second course approaches, he will pop the airtight bags of fish, lemon and thyme into a bath of water, circulating at a constant 131 degrees, for 13 minutes. At this low temperature, the fish will cook evenly throughout, while retaining its juices, infused with citrus and herb. And he will finish the course with a Parmesan crisp and tartar foam—a mixture of cream, pickles, onions, capers and lemon juice, frothed to the texture of Reddi-wip.
TAYST
2100 21st Ave. S., 383-1953
photos by: susan adcock
The playful juxtaposition of pop culture and gastronomy is nothing new for the 34-year-old chef, who regularly delivers gourmet goofiness such as Krispy Kreme bread pudding, sloppy Joes (homemade brioche with ground tenderloin in tomato sauce) and so-called “Value Meals” that can be “super-sized” with wine.
“Who says fine dining has to be serious—or expensive?” says Barlow, who often wears a water gun on a holster around his waist for impromptu kitchen battles. A graduate of Vanderbilt University and the Culinary Institute of America, Barlow served time in the kitchens of The Trace, Ruth’s Chris and Midtown Café before launching Tayst with fellow Midtown alumnus Dan Morrissey. In an upscale culinary landscape that seems to get more crowded every day, Barlow’s challenge is to keep things new without scaring off customers who enjoy a little predictability in their food. To generate some buzz this summer, Tayst is offering 30 percent off all food and trying some creative wine dinners, like the Big Mac Chant menu, an idea inspired by one of Tayst’s regular diners.
When McDonald’s Night rolled around on June 28, the names of the courses were as familiar as the faces of Ronald and the Hamburglar. The food, however, was anything but predictable. Even knowing the joke ahead of time didn’t prepare our table for Barlow’s Big Mac, a gorgeous, seven-layer composition of scallop, foie gras and tomato gelée, each sliced to the thickness of a whisper and stacked to echo the pattern of burgers and bread in the original Mickey D’s gut bomb. Faithfully topped with sesame seeds, the end result was a twee still life reminiscent of a toy hamburger in a child’s play kitchen.
The Quarter Pounder-French fry combo arrived as a succulent pile of pulled osso buco, shaped loosely into the form of a burger and topped with Vidalia onion compote and matchstick fries. The elegant plate—finished with schmears of red-pepper ketchup and Dijon cream—paid homage to the fast food staple, while at the same time putting it to nutritional and culinary shame.
One of a handful of chefs in town experimenting with so-called molecular gastronomy, Barlow is working to integrate the avant-garde cooking methods into his food without succumbing to culinary deconstruction fads such as hot ice cream, savory Pop Rocks and Dippin’ Dots. One technique likely to demonstrate staying power in Tayst’s repertoire is the sous vide method. Translated literally as “under vacuum,” the process was temporarily banned by New York City health officials last year because the low-temperature water baths keep foods between 45 and 140 degrees—a ripe environment for food-borne bacteria—for prolonged periods. But such restrictions have yet to reach Nashville, allowing Barlow to exploit the method in the “Thick Shake” entrée, which arrived after an icy intermezzo of Coke granita.
Submerged for eight hours in a tepid bath, vacuum-packed logs of spice-encrusted beef with bacon grease and juniper berries cooked to a consistent medium-rare throughout, pulling smoky flavor into the meat. To finish, Barlow seared the steak and sliced it into ribbons, which he served with paper-thin lengths of carrot and celery and a blackberry drizzle. Beside the tiny tangle of beef, a frosty shot glass of vanilla-and-coffee-tinged cream topped with tiny crisp lardons (the chant’s “thick shake”) proved the adage that everything—even a milk shake—improves with bacon.
While the red eye shake was a fleeting special—like the mercurial Arctic Orange that comes and goes at the Golden Arches—the rib eye salad will be available all summer. Reinvented to reflect seasonal fruits and flavors—think grilled watermelon with tomatoes and basil—the menu is all new as of this week, with the exception of the beef short ribs with foie gras. A hallmark of the tiny restaurant since its inception, the laboriously homemade foie gras isn’t going anywhere, says Barlow. “For all the space food we do,” he adds, “we still do old school.”
Wrapping up the McDonald’s chant with a chocolate soft-serve sundae and a two-bite hint of apple pie, Barlow’s mind had already moved onto the next culinary assault on pop culture: Movie Night. Don’t be surprised to see him drape a white sheet on one of Tayst’s beef-red walls to project a foodie film as backdrop to a dinner inspired by popcorn and Raisinets.
Tayst serves dinner Tuesday through Saturday starting at 5 p.m. Bar opens at 4 p.m.