A few years ago, most chefs associated with the movement popularly known as molecular gastronomy, after the book by the same name by French writer Hervé This, decided that they'd rather be known as modernists. All food, they insisted, was made of molecules, and the hydrocolloidal magic tricks they performed were more or less extensions of what chefs had been doing for centuries with egg whites and gelatins. But as with its counterpart in the art world, modernism turned out to be just another style. El Bulli's Ferran Adrià was a great chef, but his foams, gels, mists, snows and edible plastics were less the end-point of culinary history than a scenic stop along the way. And SAAM, the chef's tasting room within Bazaar, the restaurant by José Andrés, Adria's most successful disciple, is no less than a museum of modernist art. A (mandatory 22-course, $150) tasting menu may include a cocktail crowned with a flowing head of truffled mist, a duck-filled dumpling whose skin is fashioned from pale cotton candy, a madeleine fashioned from chilled parmesan ganache, aged-rice risotto enhanced with melted cheese, and a bit of uni with a mango pouch, just because. The dishes are exquisitely constructed: An encapsulation of liquid cheese that might be bouncy and over-thick in Bazaar's main dining room will be delicate at SAAM. You will encounter more edible gold than you have ever seen in your life, including a gold-plated, truffle-infused take on a Ferro Rocher candy. You will take a dozen Instagram photos. And as at a Buzzcocks reunion show or a Picasso retrospective, you will become nostalgic for an era you may have never known.