Now this a journalism assignment I can believe in:
It was Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar, when the faithful fast. It was the only day that Ferrán Adrià, the head chef of El Bulli in Spain, had free. Mr. Adrià was in New York to promote the book, “A Day at El Bulli,” which chronicles his world-famous “molecular gastronomy,” and I had proposed a kind of stunt in which he would visit the Lower East Side with me, shop in Chinatown and cook a meal.
And so with a friend tagging along (a gentile who had no intention of skipping the repast), I met Mr. Adrià at a Chinese seafood market at the corner of Chrystie and Grand Streets. He wore frayed black jeans and reached out to hug me upon introduction. His protégé, the chef José Andrés, was along as interpreter.
José Andrés is, on his own terms, one of the top chefs in Washington, DC. If you’re in a room with him and he’s not the most accomplished chef in the room, you’re probably in a very tasty room. Food journalism definitely seems like the line of work to be in.