I've been both baffled and fascinated by the molecular gastronomy trend that seems to be sweeping the food world. For those living under a culinary rock, molecular gastronomy is the concept of applying scientific principals and methods to cooking. Flash-freezing, edible paper and sous-vide cooking (in which a vacuum-sealed pouch of food is cooked slowly at a constant temperature) are all hallmarks of molecular gastronomy, where the diner often experiences flavors, textures and appearance of food in an entirely new way. And restaurant kitchens are increasingly becoming tricked out with equipment typically found in a science lab.

One of America's biggest practitioners of this kind of cooking, Richard Blais, is right here in Atlanta. You might remember him as the runner-up for Top Chef's Season 4. He was briefly the chef at a restaurant here where he served up dishes like oysters with Tabasco dipping dots, and fried green tomatoes with buttermilk ice cream. And now, he's turning his quirky talent to a burger joint, Flip Burger Boutique, where he makes milkshakes (sample flavor: pistachio and white truffle) with liquid nitrogen.

Flip is an example of how the molecular gastronomy movement is going mainstream, no longer reserved to temples of haute cuisine, such as Alinea in Chicago and El Bulli in Spain, which have months-long waiting lists for reservations. And, really bringing this trend home, you can even buy a kit, created by M.G. pioneer Ferran Adria (of El Bulli fame), which contains the chemicals and tools to make gelatinized fruit spheres and other wacky edibles.

I discovered another example of the mainstream-ification of these techniques when I was in Chicago recently. An ice cream shop, iCream Café in Chicago's Wicker Park neighborhood is mixing up ice cream to order: you choose the type of base (yogurt, full-fat or low-fat ice cream or sorbet), the flavors and even the color, and it's mixed up for you in what looks like a science lab, complete with syringes to dispense the flavors and colors, and workers outfitted in sterile white shirts and caps that may as well be lab coats. The mixture is then frozen in KitchenAid stand mixers in a haze of liquid nitrogen smoke. The resulting ice cream, though novel, was a little disappointing, my almond-flavored ice cream had a nice flavor, but the texture was icy and watery, not smooth and creamy like good ice cream should be. Still, it was fun to pick the flavors and watch the smoking mixers in the slick white storefront.

While no one seems to be complaining just yet, the whole concept of such chemical manipulation is creepy to me. I know it doesn't have the same social, health and environmental ramifications as, say genetic modification or cloning, it still seems similar to me on some level, playing mad scientist with our food, and turning things into what they are not. Plus, in a time where natural and unprocessed food is the Holy Grail, using liquid nitrogen, calcium chloride and lecithin seems like a step in the opposite direction.

Why can't food just be itself, in the shape, texture and flavor that nature intended?

Image courtesy Thrillist Chicago.