Insider diaries: The doctor will see you now

Restaurant kitchens are beginning to resemble operation theatres, with chefs adopting welding and carpentry tools to make edible art. The Guide spends an afternoon inside five-star chef Paul Kinney's kitchen to find out why your cheesecake won't be the same without an insulin syringe

Executive chef at the InterContinental Marine Drive, Paul Kinney confesses that he never fancied molecular gastronomy, while he takes a "foamer" apart to show us where the fluff-inducing carbon-dioxide or nitrogen dioxide capsules are placed to make creams and sauces frothier. "But I'm not completely averse to it," he adds, a split-second later. Then, to clear our confusion, he hastens to explain, "The thing is, if I want a French Onion Soup, I want a French Onion Soup, not a biscuit that tastes like French Onion Soup."



So, though the graduate from Sophia Polytechnic's prestigious Hospitality and Food Technology course welcomes gadgets that studies in the arena of molecular gastronomy have thrown up, he doesn't favour the use of chemicals or the idea of altering the natural textures of food. "I prefer to work with fresh foods and keep the emphasis on taste and presentation," says the east Indian Catholic, whose love for natural flavours may stem from the traditional cuisine of his ancestors, in which "as many as 38 spices are roasted and hand-pounded to maximise their natural aroma."

Welding a Creme Brulee
Just as you heave a sigh of relief -- it's heartening to learn that the chef's not seasoning your food with calcium chloride, silicon dioxide or anything that sounds as diabolical as xanthan gum -- Kinney pulls out a blow-torch, suddenly prompting a flashback of that frightening scene from Aliens. The flame-thrower he wields is almost a pixie version of the one actress Sigourney Weaver used. "This is a painless way to caramelise the sugar atop a Creme Brulee, for instance. Earlier, we used a salamander oven, but that ended up warming the entire dish."

Insulin syringe for icing
Like several other modern chefs, Kinney also borrows from the artist's studio, using paintbrushes of varying sizes to glaze dishes or, as he puts it, "create art on a porcelain canvas." Gliding a standard camel-hair No. 6 through the air, Kinney explains, "A couple of strokes of chocolate sauce can work like magic on a dish." Syringes, especially those used to deliver doses of insulin, are part of his toolkit. "It's far less messy than making a piping bag," says Kinney, who admits to upsetting his wife with a messy kitchen. "I may be a five-star chef but the boss at home says if I'm going to cook, it's best I bring my team along too ufffd to clean up after," he laughs.

Tweezers make fish fillets bone-free
The IV tube-looking tool is good to make a sauce or cream frothy. One end is connected to an oxygen cylinder, the other is inserted into the cream or sauce. "Once the air is released into the liquid...presto!" Tweezers of different sizes lie at his workstation, all used for delicate tasks. No matter how painstakingly you carve a fillet of fish, you are likely to leave behind tiny bones. Once cooked, these are easier to get at, using a tweezer rather than a finger that could destroy the fillet.

What next? Welding goggles and chainsaws?

London chef uses orthodontic tweezers
All the chefs at Viajante, a recently-launched restaurant in East London, have a pair of orthodontic tweezers hooked on their aprons. Celebrated Portuguese chef Nuno Mendes swears by the tool, which, he says, "is far easier to hold and far more precise than any other plating tool." Pointing out that hands don't allow for the same precision, Mendes claims to favour Lithuanian orthodontic tweezers that are slightly bigger and much cheaper.