Text by Alisa Larsen
Leaving behind a life in Michelin star kitchens in Denmark, chef couple Emilie Qvist and Simon Langballe decided to put everything on hold for a year. Or rather, to finally let go of everything that can keep people back, or in check—musts, routines, schedules, and the general hum-drum of everyday life. What ensued was months of boundaryless exploration of within and beyond the borders of Europe, a head-first immersion into people, produce and regional diversity.
Two years earlier, in 2021, after training in the kitchens of Matt Orlando and Christian Puglisi (Amass and Relæ in Copenhagen) and Dan Barber’s (Blue Hill at Stone Barns), young Emilie (then 26) opened her own restaurant, Medvind, in Hanstholm, a remote fishing village in north of Denmark. Her goal: using the best local products, cooked simply and honestly. Medvind was the perfect place at the perfect time, but after two years Emilie felt the need to keep learning and growing. Simon, on the other hand, had gained experience in important Danish kitchens, between Copenhagen, Aarhus, and southeastern Jutland. He was working at the Lyst restaurant when the desire to discover the world by cooking together with Emilie (his life and adventure partner) took over. This is how they decided to put everything aside and leave, finding themselves working in the kitchen together “officially” for the first time.
Emilie: “It was about saying ‘yes’ to all the opportunities that come along as you cook in one place and meet people. People who are passionate about food and good produce also have a tendency to love culture, history, music, art, architecture—and they love to share their experiences and contacts”.
They packed Emilie’s grandmother’s old ‘95 Opel Astra —their vehicle for the remainder of the year and the parameter for how long they could go — with two camping chairs and a Trangia kit (a Swedish brand specializing in outdoor kitchen equipment, ed), and made their way to Switzerland and Zürich. There awaited a month-long stint at the eclectic Café Neumärt, feeding a crowd of mostly artists and creatives. Not really knowing the artisanal food scene and producers around the region, they leaned on their own guests for advice on where to go on their days off. What they discovered was a booming independent culture, from Patrick Marxer of Das Pure producing koji, miso, garum, and sausages locally, to the biodynamic farm Slow Grow, focusing on future-oriented growing methods. These all incorporated regional and heirloom varieties into their work, enabling Emilie and Simon to first taste particularities such as the Runkelrübe, a yellow fodder beet of historic origin (ironically also called ‘the root of scarcity’) and sorrel root, a delicious byproduct of growing the acidic leafy green.
Simon: “For us, it was the most beautiful thing to be so close to a grower — both physically and personally — as, for example, the sorrel root is something we’d never find at a greengrocer. It is this close dialogue with farmers that gives us the chance to discover such delicious new ingredients!”.
One day Fabian, a pig farmer close to the city, brought them a Berkshire pig which they broken down into pieces to be matured. This set the framework for their cooking. The protein they worked with for the next three weeks, moving from one cut to another, creating dishes that sang with a sense of spontaneity and joy of discovery as you go along. Technical knowledge and anarchy, one might say.
The couple ended up extending their stay in Zürich, where Café Neumärt was buzzing with energy, a testament to their ability to create not just meals, but an embracing atmosphere. Their dishes, based on local ingredients and infused with their Danish sensibilities and heritage, told stories of both their travels and home. It was a direct response to everything and everyone they met, food as a dialogue with a time and place.
Packing their car at the end of spring, they followed a lead to Italy. Encountering the influential food critic Andrea Petrini, he invited them to cook at a food festival in Rimini. Making their way south, they slept in the vineyards of winemakers in Emilia-Romagna and tasted local sheep’s milk cheese that the chef at Osteria da Oreste had just brought home—quickly discovering the extreme regionality of Italian food culture: the relationship with ingredients is based on what the sea (or mountains), the seasons, and the landscape offer. There is a continuous exchange of ideas between chefs and artisans that enriches each other.
Hopping on the ferry in Rimini, Emilie and Simon end up in Croatia.
Emilie: “We have both worked in restaurants half of our lives, often with ‘high-end’ ingredients, most of which we knew nothing of their origins, or the way they were grown or made. We were driven in our journey to know, we need to know the how, who, where and why. Like visiting a truffle hunter, walking through the forest with him and his dog—the meticulousness, the aroma of the wood, the flavour of fresh truffles — it’s something that stays with you”.
Each place they visited came with a new set of ingredients both familiar and new. Simon became obsessed with diving for sea urchins, not really a part of the Danish coastal diet as it is sandier and the water level shallow. Both fell for the constant presence of green almonds, learning from a chef who grated it whole, shell and all, over a dish. Green, and tannic, it brought about a whole new expression of the fruit. At an olive farm in Hvar, Croatia, where only 2000 bottles are produced a year, all olives were picked and brought to the press by hand. There are so many stones and rocks on the island that nothing else can be done. All olives are pressed within a maximum of 12 hours from harvest. Simon: “Harvesting and pressing olives, feeling the back-breaking work behind it, and tasting that first press of neon green oil. Wow, that was something really special. All of our lives, we had thought that olive oil was supposed to be mellow, but here we really understood the energy that comes with its spiciness”.
Journeying into Slovenia and the very north of Italy, another landscape with its distinctive voice and flavour. The intense and enigmatic wines of Radikon in Oslavia, Riccardo Camanini’s Lido 84 Restaurant on Lake Garda in Gardone Riviera, the variety of cheeses from Piedmont, and the distinctiveness of Bra sausage.
Emilie: “In so many ways, we really understood the meaning of seasonality and regionality, it became so pronounced. Places we stopped in served the same dishes because artichokes were in season, and that needed to be celebrated”.
Following a chance meeting and a promise of a place to stay and learn, Emilie and Simon followed the Danish food entrepreneur Mette Ravn to her vanilla farm in Tanzania. A radically different landscape and climate from what they are used to, they wanted to dive deeper into what spice farming looks like, and how ecological and social systems support the people that partake in production. Land depends on people and people depend on the land too. Skilled workers who work at Ravn’s estate are custodians of the land, not only farming vanilla but beneficial plants such as banana trees for shade and pinto peanuts to keep the moisture in the soil. Creating compost to nourish the earth, transporting water by bucket, they learned how to understand and stimulate a whole ecosystem.
‘Mama Cook’ is the woman who keeps them all fed. Emilie and Simon join her in her daily work, cooking for the team, and learning more about local Tanzanian food and the ingredients it relies on. Physically hard work in a temperate climate demands a heftier diet with an emphasis on carbohydrates, and Ravn challenged the couple to create healthier alternatives to the staples. Banana pancakes with peanut flour became an alternative to fried donuts traditionally eaten, respectful of tradition but simply innovative.
Simon recounts how it was enlightening for them to discover that food can be grown and prepared with minimal resources, while remaining incredibly tasty and nutritious. Tanzania taught him the importance of sustainability and human ingenuity. “We worked with ingredients that were unknown to us and this forced us to be creative. We focused on the quality of raw materials and techniques that could bring out the most flavour. Since then, this has been a lesson we carry with us in all the kitchens we work in. Good food doesn’t have to be complicated and expensive, it just has to be prepared with care and respect. Working closely with vanilla, gave us the opportunity to experiment with the plant and its fruit during different seasons, from early green to its full maturity, reinforcing the belief in the importance of the cook-farmer relationship.”
Upon returning to Italy – after a lightning excursion to Sicily – they finally settle in Florence at c/o Bardi, a Residence with apartments for artists and chefs. Owner Marina Montresor is an architect who supports the arts in all its forms. Full of ideas, flavors, scents and meaningful encounters, it is here that the two begin to weave together recent experiences in a new way of cooking: for example, cooking Tuscan squid using the method learned on the Croatian coast or creating an octopus terrine with capers, olives and leek.
Simon: “Cooking in creative environments like that in Zürich and Florence, where the audience was often artists, architects, musicians, and so on, created a really open atmosphere around what we could do. Like the rules were thrown out, we truly had free reign on what we wanted to do based on what we had at hand and could follow our impulses”.
Breaking with the controlled and systematic ways of a fine dining kitchens, the idea of cooking up a meal on the day meant a striking shift in perspective. Both say that the way they cook has changed significantly since they first left Copenhagen.
Emilie: “Market culture isn’t big where we are from. Being able to visit Sant’Ambrogio in Florence every day, planning thereafter—real market cooking—made us more creative, happier chefs. We loved finding our people at the market stalls and listening to their guidance. The available ingredients set the limitations, and I feel that these boundaries breed creativity”.
Not only that, but they also started cooking simpler, more pared back food as they travelled through the regions. Not much is needed when the produce is that good.
Nonetheless, their technical abilities shine in the minimal, but brilliant execution of a stuffed rabbit ballotine with a simple ragout of beans and steamed artichokes. Their approach was holistic: respecting the local culture while adding their own perspective. It is all about staying open and agile, going where the ingredients want to go.
Back in Denmark, albeit in different cities, they found themselves changed chefs and people. Emilie now teaches at a cooking school in Copenhagen, while Simon has returned to the Lyst restaurant in Vejle, where he worked before he left. Emilie tries to bring this new global perspective of hers to her pupils, because the important thing according to her is to broaden horizons and experiment, by traveling and getting to know them in person. Their experiences have fortified their appreciation for the world’s diverse culinary traditions. Indeed, each culture has its own approach to food, and food is a reflection of a country’s history, geography, and values. Exploring this diversity can be enriching for anyone, but especially for a chef. “This year has also made us more aware of our culinary traditions – Simon adds – and we have gained in terms of appreciation of Danish cuisine and its place on the world map of food culture”.
Their story is a testament to the power of food to bring people together and to create meaningful stories. To inspire new ways of thinking and, by extension, of living.
