Inside Alinea’s 20th Anniversary Tour: Grant Achatz, Greg Baxtrom, and the Legacy That Came Full Circle

The hallway was lined with moss. There was glass blown into flowers. Somewhere, there was a snack tucked into the petals. Guests were handed a flashlight—yes, really—and told to find the next course themselves. Later, they crossed the street for dessert.

This was Alinea Brooklyn—an immersive, multi-room collaboration between Grant Achatz and Greg Baxtrom, hosted inside (and next door to) Baxtrom’s acclaimed restaurant Olmsted. It marked the kickoff to Alinea’s 20th anniversary tour, with stops in Miami and Los Angeles to follow. But this wasn’t just a tribute to one of the most influential fine dining restaurants in America. It was something more intimate. More personal.

It was a homecoming of sorts—for both of them.

Baxtrom was 19 when he joined the opening team at Alinea. “I still had braces,” he laughs. He started as a free intern and worked his way up to sous chef, a trajectory he attributes not only to his work ethic, but to the deeply structured culture Grant Achatz had created. “He saw this Eagle Scout type who could take it,” Baxtrom says. “And I thrived in that.”

Two decades later, he’s a seasoned chef with his own burgeoning restaurant empire. And yet, when Achatz walked back into his kitchen to begin this collaboration, something shifted. “We have dinner sometimes, yes,” Baxtrom says. “But the second we started working together again? I reverted. It was just: ‘Yes, chef. Thank you, chef.’”

Baxtrom may now own the space, but the hierarchy is eternal. That’s the power of mentorship. It never really leaves you. It just deepens.

The Return to Alinea—and the Long Shadow It Casts

The idea for Alinea Brooklyn didn’t start with a grand plan. It started with a vague, almost sheepish text. “You can say no,” Grant Achatz wrote to Greg Baxtrom. No context. No details. Just a soft ask from a chef who, for all his reputation, still approaches the big swings with a sense of risk.

Eventually, the pitch came through: bring Alinea to Olmsted as part of a three-city tour marking the restaurant’s 20th anniversary. What Achatz didn’t realize at the time was that Olmsted had doubled in size since his last visit. “He thought I still had one tiny kitchen,” Baxtrom says. “Now it’s a compound.” There are gardens, private dining rooms, a service kitchen, even a basement. That scale—and that flexibility—allowed them to create something sprawling and cinematic. Five rooms. Dozens of staff. A dish served in a moss-lined hallway. Dessert across the street in a borrowed pizza shop.

It was theatrical, yes. But for Achatz, it was also personal. Alinea Brooklyn was the first time he brought his flagship restaurant to New York—a market long known for ignoring, or at least downplaying, what happens beyond its borders. “He didn’t want to do some conventional night back in Chicago,” Baxtrom says. “He wanted to go big.”

And it wasn’t just a greatest hits tour. While some of the dishes—hot potato, cold potato, black truffle explosion—were iconic callbacks, many were chosen for more sentimental reasons. There was a strawberry-squab dish Baxtrom used to cook. A powdered skate dish that reminded Achatz of a story he loves: Baxtrom, out of bananas mid-service, sprinting three blocks to a corner store, tossing cash on the counter, and making it back before anyone noticed he was gone. “He just loves that story,” Baxtrom says. “So we brought the dish.”

It wasn’t quite nostalgia. It was something closer to reconciliation—with the past, with each other, and with a version of fine dining that changed everything. “I still have a soft spot for those early Alinea years,” Baxtrom says. “That crew—John Shields, Curtis Duffy, Jordan Kahn—we’re all still in each other’s lives. It shaped us.”

And now, two decades later, they’re shaping it back.

The Weight of a Mentor’s Gaze

Baxtrom may have his own restaurants now. He may have cooked at Per Se and Blue Hill, staged at Mugaritz, opened one of Brooklyn’s most celebrated neighborhood spots, and built a reputation for creative, grounded cooking that feels uniquely his. But when it came to Alinea Brooklyn, the measure of success wasn’t public acclaim or press buzz. It was Grant.

For Baxtrom, the measure of success wasn’t public acclaim or press buzz—it was whether Achatz would be proud. “That’s all I care about,” he says.

That desire, that unspoken hope for approval, lingers under every plated dish. And from the moment prep began, Baxtrom slipped into a familiar rhythm. He wasn't directing—he was responding. Deferring. Stepping into the current of a relationship that had shaped him from the start.

“It feels like home,” he says. “That kitchen, that team, that structure. It’s where I learned how to work. It’s where I figured out who I was going to be.”

It’s not about hierarchy, not really. It’s about origin. About knowing that someone once taught you how to hold a spoon a certain way, how to taste for acid, how to finish a plate with intention. And it never leaves you.

Achatz, for his part, recognizes that feeling too. When asked who he still seeks validation from, he answers without hesitation: Thomas Keller.

It’s a chain of creative approval, passed hand to hand. Baxtrom looks up to Achatz. Achatz still wants Keller to be proud. And behind it all is the quiet truth of fine dining—no matter how high you rise, there’s always someone whose gaze you want to meet with a nod.

Baxtrom has no illusions about it. “I don’t want him to feel like he had to slum it in Brooklyn,” he says. “I want him to be happy. I want him to feel like this was worth it.”

Because some mentors leave an imprint. Others leave a blueprint.

Why He Still Has Something to Prove

Grant Achatz has spent two decades building one of the most acclaimed restaurants in the world. Alinea holds three Michelin stars, a perennial spot on “World’s Best” lists, and a permanent place in the culinary canon. And yet, beneath all that acclaim, there’s still something unsettled. A flicker of doubt. A voice in the back of his mind asking: What’s next? And am I still good enough to do it?

“It’s always been about validation,” he says. “Not just from diners or critics, but from the people I admire. From my peers.”

That drive is what led to Alinea Brooklyn—not just a celebration, but a test. A chance to bring his flagship to New York, where the dining scene has historically looked inward, slow to praise anything beyond its own boroughs. “There’s always been this question of, can Chicago compete on the same level?” Achatz says. “This was my way of answering that. Of saying: yes.”

But it’s not just about geography. It’s about proving that Alinea, after 20 years, still matters. That he still matters.

“Creative angst,” he calls it. The feeling that if he’s not pushing forward, he’s standing still. “I feel dead if I’m not making something new,” he says. “That’s why this tour exists. That’s why I still cook.”

It’s a restlessness that’s always defined him. From the early molecular gastronomy years to his current emphasis on immersive storytelling, Achatz has constantly evolved—often before diners even realize what’s changing. Alinea Brooklyn wasn’t a throwback. It was a reaffirmation. A reminder that the creative fuel is still there, still burning, still insatiable.

And for all his accolades, what Achatz still craves most is the nod—from someone like Thomas Keller, his longtime mentor. When asked who he still seeks approval from, he doesn’t hesitate. “Thomas,” he says. “Always.”

What’s Next on the Tour

Alinea Brooklyn was just the beginning. The tour continues in Miami and Los Angeles, where the format will shift to suit the space. The upcoming stops are expected to be more classically Alinea: tighter spaces, less labyrinthine layouts, and a focus on precision and familiarity. “This one was special,” Baxtrom says of the Brooklyn leg. “Grant has a soft spot for me, I think. And it was his first time really doing New York.”

The tour celebrates 20 years of Alinea’s influence, but it also serves as a barometer for where fine dining is going. Each city becomes a canvas. And Achatz, ever the restless creative, continues to reinvent.

What Passion Leaves Behind

Behind the spectacle, the nostalgia, and the headlines is a quieter, deeper force. Passion, yes—but also its price. As the tour has unfolded, Achatz has spoken candidly about the toll this level of creativity can take.

"There are personal tragedies and creative triumphs. Sometimes both," he says. “But I’ve built a team. A family. And I trust them to carry this forward.”

That legacy isn’t just in the restaurants or the recipes. It’s in the people—like Baxtrom—who carry the torch.

“I want him to be proud of me,” Baxtrom says. “That’s what I’ve always wanted. For 20 years.”

Mentorship. Legacy. A sense of unfinished business.

Alinea was never just a restaurant. It was a stage, a provocation, a promise. And 20 years later, it still dares the world to catch up.

The tour continues in Miami at Faena from April 30–May 25, and then moves to Beverly Hills at The Maybourne from July 23–August 20. For tickets and information, visit thealineagroup.com.