Sweet
Inspiration
Combining the science of molecular
gastronomy with their training as chefs and chocolatiers,
Richmond's Dominique and Cindy Duby are turning out
tastebud-popping confections.
By Jesse Spencer; photograph by David Jackson
IN THE
1980S, Cindy and Dominique Duby ran a pastry business
in North Vancouver. For a time they had a retail outlet,
Patisserie de Paris, and at its peak their wholesale
business turned out as many as 3,000 desserts a day
for hotels and restaurant chains like the Boathouse.
After 14 years of profitably sweet servitude, they got
bored and packed it in.
Dominique is the Brussels-born son of a metallurgical
engineer father and a mother whose love of food and
cooking suffused family life: science meets art. Cindy
is a Richmond-born woman whose Japanese ancestors bequeathed
her an appreciation of sushi-like textures, artful presentation
and oriental ingredients: east meets west. They’d
met while working as hotel chefs in 1981 and gone off
to study under master pastrymakers and chocolatiers
in Belgium and Paris. Now, newly liberated, they followed
their passion for food science in new directions: mushroom
cultivation (“We were interested in the medicinal
benefits,” says Dominique), nutrition (they studied
at the Canadian Nurtition Institute), the physiological
subtleties of savoury and sweet. They turned their attention
to chocolate, and while studying adult education, with
its emphasis on brain-based learning, they conceived
the idea of brain-based eating, an approach that insists
on appealing to all senses.
“After all,” says Dominique, a lanky, voluble
fellow of 45, “eating isn’t just about the
way food tastes. It’s about the way it looks,
smells, feels, the circumstances at the time. Eat in
darkness, and food becomes very different than when
you see what you’re eating. If I serve you something
in a plastic pail, you’ll find it very different
than if it’s served on fine china. We create our
products to be a multi-sensory experience.”
The
products in question include scientifically derived,
exquisitely produced, seductively packaged, seriously
expensive chocolates. Using the principles of a food
movement called molecular gastronomy, the Dubys combine
flavours and textures in arresting, even startling,
ways: apple-red cabbage gelee with chestnut praline,
for example.
This
is the sort of avant-garde epicureanism that has made
el Bulli near Barcelona one of the world’s singular
restaurants, and wd-50 in Manhattan a room in which
rarefied cuisine is raised to the level of performance
art. If you want to take that idea to the extreme, have
dinner at Moto in Chicago. The menu-—printed in
edible soy ink on Parmesan-flavoured rice paper, framed
in puffed rice and freeze-dried shallots and served
on a bed of creme fraiche—is also the appetizer.
The Dubys launched their first chocolate series in 2004.
Was the world ready for wild squash truffles? At first,
most of the interest came from Toronto and New York.
Since getting coverage on CNN, NBC, and Dailycandy.com,
their online sales (dcduby.com) have taken off. (They
sell locally at Edible B.C. on Granville Island, Barbara-Jo’s
Books for Cooks and, seasonally, at Whole Foods.)They’ve
done a book, Wild Sweets, about wine and dessert pairings.
Their presentations at industry events such as the Masters
of Food & Wine in Carmel, and the South Beach Wine
& Food Festival in Florida, add to their renown.
How many hours a day do they work?
Cindy, as reserved as Dominique is garrulous: “Right
now, about 14.”
Dominique: “We’re busy, but it’s fun.”
Cindy: “Mostly fun.”
“Do you have children?”
Dominique: “No.”
“Do you have pets?”
Cindy: “No.”
“Why do you do this?”
Dominique: “Because we’re crazy.”
“Do you eat your own chocolates?”
Dominique: “Only taste. In the morning. Before
toothpaste, before coffee, before fat clogs the tastebuds.
Sometimes I eat a Purdy’s peanut butter bar. It’s
very nice—when you add salt to a bitter component
like chocolate, it gives the perception of sweetness.
They do it really well.”
Besides launching their new Origins collection this
month—this group includes a separate textural
element to go along with the chocolates—they’re
hunting money for a PBS series (Kitchen Myth and Magic).
They’re at UBC two days a week, working with Food
Science students on two projects: creating a drink that’s
both hot and cold (“Grip the bottom of the glass
and it feels cold; take a sip and it’s hot”),
and a highly unusual ice cream (“with the look
and consistency of ice cream, but hot. It melts as it
cools”). And, as always, they’re investigating
new combinations of flavours, scents and textures.
You might say the Dubys, like Willy Wonka, are confectionary
geniuses obsessed with chocolate. You might say they’re
mad scientists whose experiments in molecular gastronomy
have taken cocoa beans to new heights. You might say
that they’re artists whose studio is a laboratory
and whose medium is chocolate. You might also say they’re
canny marketers who’ve neatly carved out their
own niche in a crowded market.
Or you might simply bite into one of their sublime creations,
close your eyes, and let it speak for itself.
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