When writer Jesse Pearson began to consider why marijuana’s development as an ingredient in cooking seems to have been stunted and frozen in time with the emergence of the pot brownie, he had a revelation: Why not see what would happen if he got some culinary wizards of the highest order to elevate that which gets us high, you know, in some seriously ambitious food?
To whom did he turn? Not wanting to eff around with this historic experiment, he went straight to the top – Roberta’s. The tale of the results, a two cocktail, three-course feast for the palate and the mind, ended up in this month’s GQ.
Here’s a taste:
“You see, when I joined a small group of diners that secretly convened at Roberta’s to experience their one-off weed menu, I witnessed history. I saw expert chefs treating marijuana as a viable ingredient in terms of both taste and psychoactive effects. I saw weed claimed in the name of great food. I saw, hopefully, the beginning of the end for the pot brownie…”
“Catering chef Ryan Rice began our meal with Long Island bluefish, accompanied by a weed yogurt sauce and a salad of Roberta’s-grown greens and blood oranges, dressed with marijuana oil and dotted with housemade pumpernickel-marijuana croutons. After scaling and boning, Rice had seasoned the fish with salt, crushed fennel, Meyer lemon zest, marijuana oil, and Sour Diesel kief…”
“Roberta’s pastry chef, Katy Peetz, is, and I write this as soberly as I can, a genius. As her plates were put in front of us, chef Ryan Rice intoned, “You are about to enter a radical zone… The parsley cake had the sensuous feel of moist moss, which may sound gross, but wow was it nice. The gelato, cool and reeking of weed, slid around in our mouths like a balm. Eating this dish stoned was an experience I am likely to remember on my deathbed…”
Of course, there was pizza too. Obviously, a piece of this culinary and historical import is a must-read of the highest order. Here it is, in all its glory.
We wonder – Was this local biodynamically-grown marijuana from a small local farm that focuses on flavor, fertilized only with compost made with the dung of free-roaming rabbits who roam the fields for forage? And when will the concept of terroir enter the marijuana-as-ingredient conversation? Surely the unique confluence of wind, rain, soil and sun over the ribbon of time reaching from the planting of the seed to the harvesting of the bud must inform not only the flavor, but the high, right? Time will tell. But what is time, really…