Aping Achatz

From top to bottom: Caviar-topped sunchoke puree; “calotte de boeuf grillee;” the ARASK crew of Mark Low, Michael Cirino, Daniel Castaño and Akiko Moorman; “S’mores.”

If knockoff Prada bags and Kiss cover bands have taught me anything, it’s that imitation can yield some questionable fruit. It follows, then, that when the traveling supper club A Razor, A Shiny Knife announced its ambitious tribute meal—modeled after an extravagant, three-city gastronomic tour hosted by superchefs Grant Achatz (Alinea) and Thomas Keller (French Laundry, Per Se)—I raised an eyebrow.

Legal-drone-by-day Michael Cirino, along with his partner Daniel Castaño, debuted their ambitious repast in NYC on December 12 and will bring it to Chicago on Friday 23 and Saturday 24. Plenty of bargain-basement bon vivants have already reserved their spots.

The lofty $300 price tag seems palatable when considering the source material: Achatz and Keller charged $1,500 a head for 20 extravagant courses at their event, which kicked off at NYC’s Per Se before making stops at Alinea and the French Laundry in Napa last month. It was a demanding spectacle even for the pros. For Cirino and Castaño—whose reproduction of the complex menu is based on photographs and limited conversations with the respective chefs—it seemed as if it could become dinner theater at the Grand Guignol. But I do love a good show; when ARASK’s first attempt rolled out in New York last month, I was definitely coming to dinner.

As is protocol for secret supper clubs, the location of the event—a vibrant, chandelier-strung residence on a remote Brooklyn block—wasn’t announced until just days before the dinner took place. But most of the young, eager crowd—which included a doctor, a food publicist and a goodly crew of amateur foodies—had already settled in by the time I arrived early that Friday evening: The club’s salonlike ethos means that price of entry includes an optional seven hours of communal prep and observation. Here that might mean jumping in to peel potatoes or witnessing an impromptu demo on making pasta dough.

As mealtime approached, canapés—including a spot-on version of Keller’s legendary mini cones filled with crème fraîche and salmon tartare—made the rounds with bottles of sparkling wine. But the application of those three Benjamins really came into play at the table. “Don’t lose those pins! They are ridiculously expensive,” Cirino warned, referring to the tiny metal dowels that suspended a potato morsel and a thin disk of black truffle over a creamy truffle soup—a flawless replica of Achatz’s signature hot potato–cold potato dish.

That dedication to accuracy resurfaced throughout the meal—witness the cooks dotting butterscotch on strips of dehydrated bacon and suspending the porcine candy within tall glasses (a budget-minded edit of Achatz’s serving piece, a metallic bow). A “financier” of foie gras was slicked with Keller’s deep burgundy-hued plum gelée, and a noble, if crude, facsimile of Achatz’s pronged tempura cradles—these fashioned of thick wire and a block of wood—held a wobbly sweet-potato tempura, lanced on a burning cinnamon stick.

But Achatz on the cheap this ain’t. “These men have brilliant, functioning multimillion-dollar kitchens,” said Cirino. “We had to buy at least $2,000 of equipment just to be able to pull this off.” Those constraints and others—a tiny New York kitchen, a small company of mostly amateur cooks and a slim budget—made the resulting meal all the more challenging (and infinitely more impressive). “Turning a meal that cost $1,500 into a meal that cost less than $300 is not easy,” Cirino said. “It’s physically impossible to make money. But that’s not why we did it. That’s not why Thomas Keller and Grant did it. It was a statement of their artistic intentions and abilities, and it was an inspiration for us.”

The financial concerns gave rise to some creative solutions. Fresh white truffles, for example—the luxe flourish intended to top a celery-root mousse—were not in the cards. Cirino and Castaño compensated for the loss of flavor by adding another engaging element: texture. Midway through the meal, Cirino summoned us to the kitchen, where he submerged cheaper frozen truffles in liquid nitrogen and ground the rock-hard nuggets into an earthy, coarse soil. The pair saved money on meat, too—they aged their own prime beef rather than splurge on Keller’s Snake River Farms rib cap. Instead of osetra caviar, I tasted American sturgeon on my sunchoke puree.

So, is it worth it? If you’re looking for a traditional restaurant experience—one where the wine isn’t iced in bathroom sinks, for example—move right along. But if you couldn’t swing the month’s rent it took to experience the genuine article, or want to try cutting-edge cooking in an unintimidating environment, you’ll certainly get your money’s worth.

Couldn't make the dinner? Visit the TOC blog for freelancer Michael Nagrant's postevent wrap-up.