WORDS Molly Garvey

Denmark, 1960. Amidst a long tradition of pork, potato and rye bread, fast food and the deep freeze arrive. Danish cuisine writhes in an identity crisis, served luke-warm with a béarnaise sauce, until the cool, crisp day that chefs Rene Redzepi and Mads Refslund, and entrepreneur Claus Meyer start a revolutionary idea: a kitchen that renders edible the fjords, icy seas, and twilight laplands of the Arctic states with a menu at the mercy of the seasons.

Opening its doors in 2003, Noma was named Best Restaurant in the World by Restaurant magazine in 2010, 2011 and 2012. Over a lunch of mixed salad with pickled orange and ginger, Meyer describes a recent Danish past that echoes our own. He recalls growing up in a society heavily influenced by the austere teachings of priest and medic in which all pleasures, food included, were viewed with suspicion and drenched in guilt.

Food was functional, nothing more, and therefore taste was irrelevant. Cooking was never, as he put it, “an act of reaching out for the beauty in life.” This lack of passion in Nordic food culture was the impetus for the three to search farther afield both geographically, into the wilderness of the Arctic states, and technically, combining forgotten skills once necessary for surviving deathly winters. And so, Noma began her maiden voyage into culinary waters unknown.

A high proportion of what arrives on the plate at Noma has been foraged and all other ingredients are either delivered by local suppliers or made in-house. Bitter greens, berries, mushrooms and regional fish — all native to the immediate Arctic surroundings. In the words of Meyer, “this is Nordic cuisine that tastes like nothing else.”

A bold statement that, considering the global reception, surely comes with a touch of pride. How can one stay grounded when partly responsible for a one-time best restaurant in the world? Because, Meyer explains, the restaurant is part of something bigger. It is part of a “new culinary paradigm” that has come into being, in which chefs are “co-producers” working alongside growers and foragers. The bare ingredients themselves are as important as the skills needed to interpret and manipulate. It is a way of cooking that is “no longer egotistical but ecotistical.” It is a cooking that leaves no trace other that the after-taste of harmony between place and palate. From these noble aspirations came the Manifesto for the Nordic Kitchen. Within is found the core commandments of New Nordic Cuisine. Self-sufficient, eco-friendly and locally sourced, these core principles are, according to Meyer, “for the benefit and advantage of everyone in the Nordic countries.”

Mayer emphasises that the word “Nordic” can be replaced or even left out. This could easily be the Manifesto for the Irish Kitchen, and why not? According to Meyer, “food and the act of feeding ourselves reminds us of our roots.” The food we eat is a part of our identity, our pride. The raw ingredients are there, all that is needed are a few courageous sailors to set out in the ancestral curragh and begin the search.