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When Magnus Nilsson of Fäviken restaurant flew from Sweden to Belgium to prepare a joint dinner with Kobe Desramaults of In De Wulf, he brought many ingredients with him. He had to. Where but in the wilds of northern Sweden could he find reindeer lichen, forest moss and leaf mold in which to cook thimble-sized potatoes? He filled a leather suitcase with unplucked game birds, complete with heads, and innards.
"Magnus' shopping list included fresh pig's blood and a head-on giant monkfish," says Desramaults, the host chef who alternated dishes with Nilsson. In De Wulf is located in the Flemish countryside near the French border by Lille. Desramaults' own ingredients included farm celeriac and Calville apples, a rare local variety. Rhubarb and radish flowers came from his vegetable garden. His main course was pigeon. "We hang tender young farm pigeons whole for one week," he explains. "Then we gut and stuff them with roasted hay, an anti-bacterial agent, so the birds age from within for another week." The pigeons are then cold smoked. Just before serving, they're pan fried, and the hay is removed.
Exclusive affair
This was to be no ordinary meal, an invitation-only dinner for 25 people. Nilsson, at 27, is one of the brightest stars in the Nordic food constellation. He runs an extraordinary restaurant on an 8,400-hectare (20,000-acre) estate in a wilderness of pine forests, lakes and fields just below the Arctic Circle near Norway. Nilsson is a culinary pioneer, foraging, hunting and growing the food he prepares for just 12 guests, four nights per week. They all eat the same menu. "People are very motivated when they come here, and eat whatever I cook," he says. He aims for self-sufficiency, sourcing what little he can't produce from the surrounding province and nearby coast.
The dining room at In De Wulf before the dinner. Desramaults' hay-stuffed pigeons, before cooking. The dining room at Fäviken. Cows in a field beside In De Wulf. Desramaults' rhubarb and lovage starter. Nilsson's lichen with garlic cream. Magnus Nilsson in his vegetable garden at Fäviken. Nilsson with just-picked leek at Fäviken. Nilsson, with his leek dish. Nilsson, with Fäviken sheep. Field next to In De Wulf restaurant. Kobe Desramaults' walnut, celeriac and aged ham dish. Desramaults, with pickled carrots. The two chefs and their staff discuss the meal plan at In De Wulf. Desramaults' apple dessert. A version of Nilsson's pine bark dessert at Fäviken. Desramaults, taking a break. The road to Fäviken in summer. A lake on the Fäviken estate. The chefs and kitchen staff plan the meal the night before the dinner.
The dining room at In De Wulf before the dinner. Desramaults' hay-stuffed pigeons, before cooking. The dining room at Fäviken. Cows in a field beside In De Wulf. Desramaults' rhubarb and lovage starter. Nilsson's lichen with garlic cream. Magnus Nilsson in his vegetable garden at Fäviken. Nilsson with just-picked leek at Fäviken. Nilsson, with his leek dish. Nilsson, with Fäviken sheep. Field next to In De Wulf restaurant. Kobe Desramaults' walnut, celeriac and aged ham dish. Desramaults, with pickled carrots. The two chefs and their staff discuss the meal plan at In De Wulf. Desramaults' apple dessert. A version of Nilsson's pine bark dessert at Fäviken. Desramaults, taking a break. The road to Fäviken in summer. A lake on the Fäviken estate. The chefs and kitchen staff plan the meal the night before the dinner.
With six months under snow and no freezers in Fäviken's kitchen, Nilsson is inventive about storing produce. He's revived ways to ferment vegetables in their juices and uses a root cellar. He smokes, salts, dries, pickles and bottles 2,500 kilos (5,500 pounds) of produce in summer. He shoots just one moose per year, "so the menu doesn't get too repetitive," and forages 70 varieties of mushroom and countless herbs, roots and plants from woods, lakes and fields. He uses pine-bark flour, once a staple in this wheat-free area.
Nilsson is a purist, a fauve minimalist who has the courage to strip away excesses and focus sharply on a lexicon of individual raw materials of rare quality. His cooking methods, too, are laid bare. "I'm interested in technique, not technology," he says. "I prefer to cook simply. We don't use low temperatures, but cook over direct heat. There's no thermometer in my kitchen; my chefs learn to recognize how food cooks by its look and feel." Fäviken's kitchen staff totals three. His business partner, Johan Agrell, handles the wines, table service and Fäviken's comfortable rooms, for diners. It's a long trip to the restaurant from almost everywhere, but Fäviken is currently ranked 71 in the World's 100 Best Restaurants.
Flemish focus
Desramaults is 31 and has run In De Wulf since taking over his mother's cafe at 24. He first turned it into a simple brasserie, then found his voice there with a more formal restaurant, winning a Michelin star within two years. "It was a revolutionary decade in food and I was glad to be in the middle of it," he says. "Today I'm more focused on the ingredients of this Flemish farming area. After eating at Michel Bras' restaurant, with its appreciation of that specific place, I realized how important my own environment was." His network of high quality growers is excited to supply the restaurant. Desramaults is part of Flemish Primitives, young chefs regenerating their area's culinary traditions.
At Fäviken, you eat in a wooden barn's hayloft, with windows so small the mood turns introspective. In De Wulf is located in a luminous converted farmhouse surrounded by gardens and vegetable patches. The two chefs met at the Omnivore Food Festival, finding an affinity of food and philosophies.
The 16-course meal the chefs co-created is stimulating and provocative. Desramaults' raw rhubarb ribbon spiced with lovage is a bracing garden teaser, while Nilsson's openers conjure a wilder world: crisped lichen dusted with grated yolk, and orange trout roe ringed by a soft black crust of pig's blood.
Desramaults' warmed Zeeland oysters enveloped in whey sauce are salty, sweet and suave, set off by crunchy cabbage and a hit of horseradish. Nilsson's scallops are cooked in their coral's jus over juniper branches and come nestled in forest moss. You eat the scallop with your fingers, drinking the smoky juices from the shell.
Desramaults balances flavors from his rural landscapes. He chars green beans and teams them with white goat's cheese from Uxem and sour wood sorrel. Crisp, fresh walnuts are paired with celeriac -- puréed, raw and broth -- and topped with grated highly-aged ham. The pigeons stand alone: The complexity the birds acquire in Desramault's patient preparation is remarkable, ending with a long, smoky finale.
Swedish starkness
Nilsson's penchant is for elemental starkness. His magnificently pure broiled monkfish comes accented by a green jelly of juniper-infused alcohol and vinegar. Its vibrance launches you into a forest world. In his next course, just-pulled, lightly roasted leeks lie alone across the plate, flanked by dried, salted cod's roe and fermented beer cream. Nilsson's pieces de resistance are the well-hung game birds, plucked shortly before the meal. My roasted snow grouse breast comes with raw rowan berries, fermented oatmeal with mushrooms, a crimson paste of the bird's organs, and a crunchy halved bird's skull. "Don't forget to suck out the brains," says Nilsson. The berries' bitter acidity prevents the bird from ever seeming tame but the most extreme sensations come from that purple purée of raw organs, which stretches the boundaries of taste to the primeval.
Desramaults' sour lemonade of sea buckthorn resets our palates. His delicious Calville apple dessert follows the bird flights reassuringly. A brittle sheet of apple paste is draped over firm rosemary scented foam and sprinkled with iced Tatin, an invention that has all the flavours of tarte tatin in an iced powder. Nilsson's buttery pine-tree bark cake comes topped with wood sorrel and black mushrooms that hint of lavender and almonds. It's cooled by frozen buttermilk. The wines -- many of which are "natural" -- were selected by Argell and consultant sommelier Linda Violago and added an exciting dimension to this inspiring, thoroughly modern meal.
To see images of all the dinner's dishes, visit Flemish Foodies.
Zester Daily contributor Carla Capalbo is an award-winning food, wine and travel writer based in Italy for more than 20 years. Her book, "Collio: Fine Wines and Foods From Italy's Northeast" recently won the André Simon prize for best wine book, and her website is carlacapalbo.com. Capalbo's last article for Zester was about the Bordeaux Primeurs.
Photo: Chefs Magnus Nilsson (left) and Kobe Desramaults exchanging seasonal gifts; Nilsson is giving Swedish moss and Desramaults a quince from his tree.
Photo and slideshow credit: ©Carla Capalbo
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