Category Archives for Mushrooms

Debra Messing has a really long list of allergies

Will& Grace diva Debra Messing issued a long list of banned items she is allergic to before gracing a magazine event in Manhattan.

Messing dished out details of an array of allergies before attending Tuesdays bash for Haute Living at hip Soho restaurant Mamo.

She appears on the covering of the publications latest issue.

Messings unpalatable roll call includes, Food allergies: Debra is allergic to ALL WHITE FISH, chicken, mushrooms, gluten, dairy, butter( except feta and goat cheese ). Debra does not eat game, beans, yogurt, broccoli, cauliflower. She is lactose intolerant. She cannot have cheese or milk( merely coconut milk ).

The list continues, Additional Allergies: Debra is allergic to wool, cats, cashmere, down feathers, FLOWERS and gabardine[ a type of woven cloth ]. The only flower she is not allergic to is orchids.

The restaurant took these instructions severely and made an allergy-free hors doeuvres menu for Messing, which included tomato gazpacho with feta cream; marinaded tuna in tomatoes; marinaded salmon with granita of cucumber, rum and lemon; and truffle pizza( gluten-free, naturally ). Restaurant staff threw out all the flowers from their tables and replaced them all with pink orchids, as per Messings mandate.

It is not clear if the supersensitive superstar who is appearing in the much-anticipated return of Will& Grace even touched the food.

Other guests included philanthropists Larry and Toby Milstein, divorce lawyer Nancy Chemtob and Haute Media Group co-founder Seth Semilof.

Messing has been open about her allergies.

She told Gluten Free& More in 2014, Ive had some very severe assaults . . . My allergies would take away from my impressions of self-confidence at work. I was always worrying that abruptly my eyes would start sobbing or Id be sneezy . . . There have been times when I couldnt even take my son to the park.

She has credited allergy medication for saving her career. Messings reps didnt commentary. Semilof said, We were happy to provide a vegan and gluten-free menu at the release party of her Haute Living NYC cover.

This article originally appeared in the New York Post .

Read more: www.foxnews.com

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Black Hermione: which character will cause the next ‘racebending’ outrage?

Casting a black actor in the role of a traditionally white character never fails to cause an outcry, so who could be next and what would the consequences be?

As you might have heard recently, we solved racism with the announcement of a black Hermoine in the new Harry Potter stage play, Harry Potter and the Curst Child. The casting of Noma Dumezweni in the upcoming play strikes a fatal blow for the cause of equality: a made-up wizard can be black. In this kooky, mixed-up, pre-apocalypse we call society, these are our victories. Substantive policy changes are difficult due to systemic oddities in our politics like gerrymandering, patronage and outright malice. Republicans gleefully roll back landmark civil rights legislation like the Voting Rights Act because its not politically advantageous for black people to election. Im happy to ignore that for a while as long as we cast a black dude in high-profile fantasy roles like Star Wars or as president of the United States.

Yes, these are fun moments for those of us who grew up at a time when the best you could do for black heroes was Carl Weathers, Wesley Snipes, Boyz II Men and Urkel. But what practical good does all of this do when black humen are still being incarcerated at record levels? Those brethren dont even get to see Star Wars on cable, let alone go to the West End to see some snooty play about people riding brooms for athletic. For the sake of experimentation, lets look at a few other classic fictional characters and wonder what building them black would actually do for the world.

James Bond

Daniel

Daniel Craig as 007. Photograph: Jonathan Olley/ AP

The most popular race-bending suggestion of all time is casting Idris Elba as Commander James Bond of Her Majestys Secret Service. Never mind that Elba is 43 and by the time hed be given an opportunity to make a second Bond film, hed “re going to have to” set human growth hormone in his vodka martinis in order to do all those stunts. Elba is very handsome, British and black, in addition to being a fine actor. As such, he is uniquely eligible to stimulate history as the first black Bond. The actual social outcome of this would probably be negligible, save for Sir Roger Moore burying himself alive a week before the premiere of the cinema out of sheer horror.

Batman

The

The Dark Knight: could Ben Carson become the caped reformer? Photo: Everett/ Rex Shutterstock

Making Batman black is highly intriguing because of Bruce Waynes relationship to crime. Bruce Wayne is a wealthy man who witnessed his mothers grisly murder, and then generates an alter-ego to fight crime in the midst of the night. Batman must end up fighting a few black people during his evening S& M romps, but doesnt stop to ask about the sociological factors at play that have led his victims to a life of crime. While hes clubbing some poor bastards skull in with some sick medieval gauntlet, he definitely doesnt intermission his assault to lob any questions. Hold still for a second while we discuss some important issues! Did you attend an urban public school? Did you feel there were enough job opportunities for you when you graduated? Would you have been more inspire to attain if you knew the girl from Harry Potter is black now? ANSWER ME! Yeah, he doesnt have period for that. So, if you make Batman black, it would make one wonder why he doesnt do more to address the underlying issues behind crime. By only use brute force and a creepy voice to solve problems, a black Batman would basically be Ben Carson. That voices awful.

Doctor Who

A

A black Doctor Who? Truly frightening. Photo: Simon Ridgway/ BBC

Hes elderly, insane, homeless and constantly kidnapping young lady. I dont believe black folk want any part of this, thank you very much. Its bad enough we have to answer for Bill Cosby.

Mario from Super Mario Bros

Mario:

Mario: a true hero. Photo: AP

At last, a genuinely noble character that could easily be black. Think of all the wise black plumbers youve satisfied. At my last New Years Eve party, someone clogged my lavatory so thoroughly that I had to call someone out the next day to handle the situation. A wise, mysterious, Bagger Vance-esque magical negro plumber came to my home with a smile on his face, happy to be of assistance. Shall I remind you that plumbers also have to touch human waste all day? Not even their own waste. Your garbage. Actually, the fighting of lizard monsters and anthropomorphic mushrooms is the icing on the proverbial race relations cake. The important thing is that being associated with the plumbing profession would finally, at last, dispel the image of black people being lazy. How can you call anyone lazy who joyfully manages excrement for a living? Id like to see Bill OReilly or Sean Hannity handle some filth for a day instead of spewing it out of their mouths. Lastly, theres already precedent for great Marios in black culture. I think we have room for another.

Oh, one other thing: wed “re going to have to” construct the princess black too. Im not quite sure Americas ready for an interracial video game couple. Lets circle back on that one and see how everyone feels in a few years. If Kanye cant even marry Kim without racists getting pissed, I cant begin to fathom the outrage over Mario marriage Princess Daisy.

Colonel Sanders

The

The Colonel: ready for a makeover? Photo: Mark Boster/ LA Times via Getty Images

This is the holy grail for black folks, for sure. Consider, if you are able to, the power in an icon of southern culture and corporate chicken mascot becoming black. KFC recently brought the Colonel he of the all-white suit thats a hood and a flaming cross away from being truly problematic back for an absurd, self-referential advertising campaign. Already theyve switched performers portraying the Colonel, pivoting from SNL alum Darrell Hammond to another SNL alum, Norm MacDonald. I think its high time for a brand refresh, so why not Tim Meadows or Tracy Morgan for the next Colonel? This had an opportunity to the unintended outcome of sending yet more black people to an early tomb due to the fact that feeing enough fried chicken can turn your heart into a rather large rock-type thing, which is incapable of pumping your gravy blood to the rest of your lardy, stuffed-crust body. Never mind that. Simply think about how inspiring it will be for the orphaned children of those obese corpses to find a black human selling fast food.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

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Vladimir Putin barges, sunbathes and pickings mushrooms in his Russian vacation photos

( CNN) After a week dominated by talk of sanctions, the American and Russian Presidents are now off vacationing on opposite sides of the globe.

One is at a golf club in New Jersey. The other is fishing bare-chested in Siberia.

President Donald Trump arrived Friday for a 17 -day running vacationat Trump National Bedminster. While he’s run, the White House is getting some “much-needed” redevelopments.

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One batch of polenta, four recipe notions | Get ahead

Get ahead: If you think polenta is akin to Dickensian gruel, then you are missing out on one of lifes greatest convenience foods. Make a large pot and any of these four dishes

As with many great foods, polenta has its fair share of detractors. Surely, these are the people whove never tried polenta at its silky-smooth, deeply flavoured, comforting best …

Having a simple polenta recipe in your armoury is a route to untold riches. Make a whole packet and enjoy some fresh as a substitute for your usual mashed potatoes, rice or pasta, then leave the remainder to cool into a firm block. From there, the options are endless.

To build the polenta
Makes 1.8 kg

1. 75 litres water
1 tbsp sea salt
1 x 400 g packet coarse polenta or cornmeal
Salt and black pepper
150g butter( optional)
75-100g parmesan, grated( optional)
Olive oil, to grease
Butter and parmesan if youre going to eat immediately

1 Pour the polenta in a slow, steady stream into a deep pan of simmering salted water, whisking endlessly to prevent clods. Keep stirring for a couple of 2 minutes until you can begin to feel it thicken.

2 Turn down to a simmer, and give it a good stir it every five minutes, inducing sure you rub the bottom so it doesnt stick. You may want to wrap your hand in a tea towel this is why it doesnt bubble up and burn you.

3 After 35 -4 5 minutes, the polenta should come away from the sides of the pan and taste wholly tender. Season liberally with salt and pepper.

4 If serving instantly, stir in the butter and parmesan and serve with a huge stew( this amount will serve 12 -1 4 ). To construct our batch recipes, grease a medium cooking dish( 22 x 28 cm x 2cm) with petroleum, pour in the wet polenta and smooth the top. Leave to cool entirely before slicing.

The punchy snack: Fried polenta nachos with black beans, pickled red onions, avocado and feta( pictured above)

Dare we say these fried polenta strips are better than the tortilla chips they replace in this dish? Crisp edges and a warm, soft centre stimulate them the perfect vehicle for getting beans and avocado from plate to face.

Serves 4
5 tbsp olive oil
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp smoked sweet paprika
400g tin black beans, drained and rinsed
400g polenta, at room temperature
1 ripe avocado, sliced
75g feta, crumbled
A handful of coriander leaves, to serve

Quick pickled red onion
1/ 2 red onion, finely sliced
Juice of 2 limes
Salt

1 To build the pickle, place the onion in a bowl with lime juice and salt and mixture well. Set aside.

2 Heat 2 tbsp of oil in a pan over a medium-low hot and fry the garlic, cumin and paprika until the garlic begins to feel sticky and spices reek fragrantfor 1 minute. Stir in the beans, add a big splash of water and season. Cook for 10 minutes until soft.

3 When youre ready to eat, slice the polenta into 5mm-thick, big, tortilla chip shapes. Heat 3 tbsp of olive oil in a frying pan over a medium-high heat. Fry the polenta for 2 minutes per side, until just beginning to crisp up( do not overcrowd the pan, you may need to do this in batches ). Drain on kitchen paper.

4 Place on a plate, season, then top with the warm black the beans, avocado slicings, feta, pickled onion and coriander leaves.

The meat-free main : vegetable polenta lasagne

This dish gives you the illusion of having made a lasagne with homemade pasta without any of the fuss.

Vegetable

Cook Feb 6 Photograph: Helen Cathcart for the Guardian

Serves 6-8
25g dried porcini, broken up a little

For the tomato sauce
2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
2 tbsp olive oil
2 x 400 g tin plum tomatoes, drained and rinsed

For the mushrooms
300g seasonal mushrooms, sliced
2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
2 tbsp olive oil
3 sprigs of thyme, leaves picked

For the bechamel sauce
1 litre whole milk
2 bay leaves
100g unsalted butter
100g plain flour
1/ 4 nutmeg, grated

To assemble
100g spinach leaves, washed
150g grated parmesan
800g polenta, cut into 5mm-thick slices
A drizzle of olive oil

1 Soak the porcini in simmering water and put to one side while you build the fillings for your lasagne.

2 Fry the garlic in the oil over a medium hot until it starts to colouring. Add the tomatoes, transgressing them up with a wooden spoon, and season. Simmer for 25 -3 0 minutes until a deep, rich colour.

3 Meanwhile, over a medium-high heat, fry the mushrooms and garlic in the petroleum for 2-3 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the mushrooms have started to colouring and the garlic soften. Squeeze the water out of the soaked porcini, then add to the mushrooms along with the thyme. Cook for a few more minutes until the mushrooms are cooked through, then season to taste.

4 Set the oven to 180 C/ 350 F/ gas mark 4. To induce the bechamel, bringing the milk to the boil with the bay, then take off the heat. In a fresh pan, melt the butter over a medium heat and stir in the flour. Cook for three minutes, stirring, then gradually whisk in the warm milk. Cook over a low heat for a 2 minutes, discard the bay and season with nutmeg and a little salt and pepper. Keep warm.

5 In a medium-size lasagne dish, layer with half the mushrooms, half the tomato sauce, half the spinach, half the polenta, half the bechamel and half the parmesan. Repeat, then drizzle with a little oil. Place in the oven for 25 -3 0 minutes, until golden.

The polenta pud: Cinnamon churros with warm chocolate and orange sauce

Polentas slight sweetness gives itself beautifully to desserts. We often use it instead of flour when baking cakes. Here, were giving it the churros therapy, served alongside a bowl of a warm chocolate sauce.

Cinnamon

Cook Feb 6 Photograph: Helen Cathcart for the Guardian

Serves 4
250g polenta, at room temperature
50g butter
1 tbsp olive oil
50g icing sugar
1/ 2 tsp ground cinnamon

For the sauce
200g chocolate( 70% cocoa ), broken up
70g soft brown sugar
100ml doubled cream
40ml simmering water
A splash of Cointreau( optional)
Zest of 1 orange

1 For the sauce, set the chocolate, sugar, cream and water in a heavy-based pan over a low hot, stirring, until melted. Remove from heat, then stir in the Cointreau if utilizing,( if using) and the orange zest, and keep warm.

2 Cut the polenta into batons, approximately 8 x 1 x 1cm. In a large frying pan over a medium-high hot, melt the butter with the oil until foaming. Fry the polenta in batches, making sure to cook each side until brown and crisp, then and drain on kitchen newspaper and keep warm in a low oven.

3 Mix the icing sugar and cinnamon, then dust over the polenta. Serve with the warm chocolate sauce for everyone to help themselves.

The quick supper : Polenta pizza with radicchio and black olives

An ingenious style to use the last of the polenta. Anything you have would work here, but we love the bitterness of radicchio combined with either the saltiness of olives and creamy ricotta. Serve with a few slicings of prosciutto to make this a bit more substantial.

Serves 4
350g polenta
100ml simmering water
2 tbsp olive oil
1 sprig rosemary, leaves picked
75g grated parmesan
125g ricotta
1 egg yolk
1/ 2 head radicchio or other bitter leaf, shredded
2 tbsp black olives, approximately chopped
1 tbsp toasted pine nuts
1/ 2 tbsp sherry or red wine vinegar

1 Preheat the oven to 200 C/ 400 F/ gas mark 6. Crumble the polenta into a saucepan, add 100 ml of boiling water, put over a medium hot and whisk constantly until the polenta is completely smooth.

2 Set an ovenproof frying pan over a medium-high heat, and when hot, add 1 tbsp of olive oil and the rosemary leaves. Let them crackle for a few moments before adding the polenta. Be careful as the petroleum spew a little. Help the polenta settle into an even layer with the back of a spoon. Fry for a couple of minutes to let the base to set.

3 After 2-3 minutes, sprinkle over 50 g of parmesan and put in the oven for 15 -2 0 minutes until set and beginning to colouring. Meanwhile, combine the remaining parmesan with the ricotta and egg yolk and season well.

4 Remove the polenta from the oven and dot with spoonfuls of the ricotta mix. Return to the oven for a further 10 minutes.

5 Meanwhile, blend the radicchio, black olives and pine nuts and dress with the remaining 1 tbsp of olive oil, the vinegar and a little seasoning.

6 Remove the polenta from the oven and slide it out on to a plate to cool a little. Slice it, then pile the radicchio-olive mix on top. Serve instantly.

The Kitchen Cooperative, Georgia Levy and Benjamin Benton, are caterers, consultants and cooks. Follow them on Twitter @Kitchen_Co

Read more: www.theguardian.com

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18 Recipes Using Everyone’s Favorite Comfort Food( Potatoes, Obviously !)

I could eat potatoes every day and be perfectly happy.

After all, who doesn’t love feeing carbs? They might not be great to eat in bulk, but they certainly induce us feel good. There are tons of simple ways to stimulate potatoes and they’re all super delicious. After a while, though, you might get tired of feeing the same scalloped, cooked, and fried versions. That’s why we’ve determined 18 of the most amazing and unexpected potato recipes to construct their own lives full of even more yum.

1. What’s better than a twice-baked potato? A whole casserole of them.

Read More: 20 Epic Recipes You Can Stimulate With Tater Tots — My Mouth’s Already Salivating

2. Baked potato soup is the perfect style to feel warm, cozy, and full.

3. If you love cheesy potatoes, try a sophisticated parmesan-crusted version.

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4. These mashed potato cheese bites

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5. Loaded potato recipes are usually filled with meat, but this vegetarian option

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6. They’re called funeral potatoes

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7. Pierogi lasagna

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8. I want to try anything that has Jamaican curry

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9. Baked potato dip

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10. If you haven’t tried potato bread

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11. Get ready for a magnificent savory breakfast — mashed potato waffles

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12. Speaking of breakfast, check out this mouthwatering hash .

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13. Pierogies

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14. Forget mashed — smashed potatoes

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15. Volcano potatoes

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16. Give yourself the royal treatment with these duchess potatoes .

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17. Kick the heat up a few notches by making your

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18. I can’t think of anything more romantic than some potato rises .

Read More: Don’t Ever Reheat These 8 Foods In The Microwave — They Become Toxic !

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Magic out of mould: inside the world’s wildest eatery | Jordan Kisner

The Long Read: In an age when chefs are regularly compared to artists and philosophers, Magnus Nilsson is among the worlds most renowned. But is the simple act of cooking ever worthy of such veneration?

Magnus Nilsson, the 32 -year-old chef at Fviken, Swedens premier fine-dining restaurant, is not fond of repeating himself, but there is one sentence he repeats with such frequency and resolute force-out that it takes on the quality of a koan: Do it once, perfectly.

He says it when observing that one of his chefs has failed to place the dollop of burnt cream in the same place on every dish, or when explaining why he paid so much for his elaborated recycling and composting facility, which has reduced the restaurants trash to practically nothing.

This, too, was the guiding principle behind its recent volume, an encyclopedic record of the past several hundred years of Nordic home cooking comprising 730 recipes, including about 30 that Nilsson expects no one ever to cook.( That is not the phase, he explained. It is a documentary .) When the publisher tried to ten-strike one recipe from the collection because it was both impractical and, they feared, controversial( it included whale meat ), Nilsson offered to return his advance and set the manuscript in a drawer, rather than publish it incomplete. He explained his reasoning with an amused shrug: Do it correctly or do not do it.

One of the central thesis of The Nordic Cookbook is that a countrys dinner table uncovers a great deal about its cultures values, economy, landscape, religions, politics, and even household structure. This idea is not original to Nilsson, but the Nordic Cookbook is the most exhaustive recent attempt to catalogue a segment of the world through its food. To compile it, Nilsson amassed 11,000 articles and 8,000 photographs, interviewed hundreds of people, and travelled to the farthest reaches of the region, from Sami country to the Faroe Islands. He did this in his spare time.

Nilssons day job, however, is operating Fviken. Set 375 miles north of Stockholm, deep in the forested province of Jmtland, Fvikens 32 -course savor menu demands a journey: an hours flight from Stockholm to stersund, then a 75 -minute drive north-west. Nilsson is quick to point out that the flight from Stockholm actually builds Fviken relatively low-fuss in terms of destination dining however, the restaurant is positioned like the prize at the end of a quest. Its decided is, especially to non-Swedes, otherworldly. In Jmtland, timberlands and mountain vistas unfold and unfold with little human interruption. There are only three people per square mile. At the high levels of summer, the sunlight shines for 24 hours a day. In the winter, the temperature falls to -4 0C. Reindeer wander the woods.

As a home for a fine-dining restaurant, it is an odd selection, yet Nilssons embrace of this scenery has set him apart as one of the most important, innovative chefs working today. In the eight years since its opening, Fviken has become a pillar of the new Nordic trend in food culture alongside Ren Redzepis Copenhagen restaurant, Noma. Like Redzepi, Nilsson is a forager he is also a hunter and expert gardener and much of his food is designed to bring you into some sort of encounter with its origin. One of his signature dishes is a single scallop poached in its own juices, which arrives at your table in its gigantic shell atop a bed of moss and burning juniper branches cut from behind the kitchen the ocean meeting the forest.

Food as an exercise in high esthetics has been part of popular culture since the Spanish cook Ferran Adri brought his restaurant, El Bulli, and its pioneering molecular gastronomy lab to international reputation in the late 1990 s. But Fviken is at the vanguard of eateries whose food is also talked about as an expression of moral values. This arrives, in part, from Nilssons commitment to regional and local sourcing: he cooks almost exclusively with ingredients that can be bought within a few hundred miles. His chefs forage moss, herbs, grass, mushrooms, blooms and seeds from the grounds every day, and about half the produce for the restaurant is grown in their garden. During the long winter months, when the sunlight merely violates the horizon line for an hour or two each day and the land is sheathed in snowfall and ice, the kitchen serves mostly foods they have harvested and foraged in the warm months and then preserved. With his pickled hand-picked carrots and dried cloudberries, Nilsson is the man millions of aspiring locavores wish to be.

Magnus Magnus Nilsson, with Fviken restaurant in the background. Photograph: Per-Anders Jrgensen for the Observer

The food isnt merely appealingly local; its a apparently authentic expres of a place. All the ingredients have a narrative, which you hear before each course, and the snack made from them is an edible heirloom. Nilssons preparations draw on hundreds of years of regional food culture, which has naturally adapted to accommodate the environments extremes: the caramel for a tart is stimulated with brunost, a sweet, fatty Norwegian cheese, and the bitter herb sauce served alongside it comes from techniques and ingredients of the native Sami people. The chocolate-like disc melting under your cut of meat comes from the wildflowers that overtake the mountains in the summer.

Nilsson has been showered with accolades and attention: rave reviews, multi-hour documentary series from PBS and Netflix, liberal utilize of the word wunderkind. A seasons worth of reservations in Fvikens 24 -seat dining room sell out in minutes. His food is not popular, exactly it has been deemed important cultural material.( Nilsson himself recently referred to his food as intellectual property in a speech to his staff .) People have started restaurants with similar philosophies as a kind of homage. Google has invited him to give presentations at their headquarters. Diners flock from every country in the world. One recent guest in Fvikens dining room told him that he and his wife were not there just for the food. We think of him[ Nilsson] more as a philosopher or poet than a chef, he said.

If our dinner plates expose who we are, what does Nilssons rise to renown say about our fantasies and obsessions? The vast majority of people fascinated with Nilsson will never visit Fviken, so they follow along at home, watching him on Tv or checking his Instagram, which recently featured a picture of what appeared to be two mouldy pellets of Frosted Wheat. It was mycelium growing on a bale of straw, the caption explained, waiting to be was transformed into broth before being served with a small clump of cultured butter. That nearly no one knows what mycelium is( its a fungus) doesnt bother his followers the thrill seems to be that somewhere in an imagined wilderness, a hunter-chef is cooking it perfectly. This is our contemporary fairytale: a Swede stimulating magical out of mould.


My introduction to the Fviken kitchen was this: I watched two men expend several hours auditioning asparagus. It wasnt clear at first what they were doing. One would pick up a green stalk from the 10 that had been selected and turn it over in his hands gently, considering how best to peel it. Then the other would pick a stalk up and frown at it. After a while, one of the men, Nilssons chef de cuisine, a young Italian named Jakob Zeller, picked up a small paring knife and with meditative care traced a light cut around the circumference of the stubble, only below the crown.

He then placed the asparagus back down on the cutting board and, taking up a traditional vegetable peeler, induced delicate strokes from the incision to the base of the stalk. A haystack of asparagus wisp collected on his committee. Next to him, the sous chef, a Swede named Neil Byrne, tested ways to remove another stalk buds, hoping to make it appear as though they had not been removed at all but that the restaurant had seen magical asparagus that never had them to begin with. It took these men 35 minutes to peel three stalks.

It was mid-May, and Fviken was coming to the end of its eight-week yearly hiatus. The period of remainder meant that the staff needed to retrain to execute the 32 -course meal served at the restaurant. There were only three days until a trial run for family and friends, and four days until paying customers arrived. The Fviken team was deep in rehearsal mode, deciding the final details of dishes being introduced in the new season, memorising their responsibilities, and learning how to do every task perfectly.

On one side of the kitchen, an older sous chef developed a younger chef on the meat station, reminding him to consider the four seconds it takes to cross the room from the stove to the plate when planning cooking day. Nilssons head chef, a tall, rosy-cheeked Swede named Jesper Karlsson, had two apprentices practising arranging trays, memorising the positioning and shape of the plates for each course. Over in the corner, the new chef in charge of vegetables had been cutting the same stalk of rhubarb for an hour, perfecting his technique for a garnish that would accompany a braised lamb tongue.

The chefs workspace is perhaps the most beautiful room at Fviken, bright and pacifies, with white tiled walls and stainless steel worktops, appliances and cabinets. A large coal brazier stands in the middle of the room. Sunlight pours in through wide, gridded windows. The entire kitchen, from its floors to its hardware, is immaculate. The traditional ruckus and created voices of the professional kitchen are absent. The chefs, dressed in white double-breasted jackets and pert caps, tread gently, never clatter their enforces, and speak to each other in soft, accented English.

After several tries, Zeller and Byrne peeled an asparagus satisfactorily enough to consider cooking it. Zeller reached for a plate and arranged the stubble in the middle in its final form, the plate would hold only one stem and a scoop of caviar. Zeller placed the model before Byrne. They took a step back and each assumed a thoughtful pose: limbs traversed, eyes constricted. Zeller cocked his head to one side and Byrne cocked his to the other. Ultimately, Byrne shrugged. Yeah, its OK, said Jakob, agreeably if not enthusiastically. The asparagus was sent to the steam oven for four minutes.

Just then, Nilsson entered the kitchen without a word and walked over to a cut of beef sitting on the counter waiting to be prepped.( Nilsson wears his hair shoulder-length and loose, and he is the only person in the kitchen who never wears a hat .) He lowered his nose to a half-inch above the meat , nodded, and then watched as the asparagus came out of the steaming oven. He gazed at the vegetable for a few moments, made a few deft slicings and popped a chunk in his mouth.

Nilsson and Zeller compared notes: even with the lightest touch, the peeler had stripped too much off the stem, but how to get less than that? Nilsson disappeared to the dishwashing station and returned with a clean sponge. He took a raw husk from the bin and gently scrubbed it down. Ah, OK, told Jakob , nodding and grinning. They would have to order more sponges.

Magnus Magnus Nilssons book on Nordic home cooking contains 730 recipes, including about 30 that Nilsson expects no one ever to cook Photograph: Per-Anders for the Observer

Two hours later, the asparagus preparation had been decided on and it was time to complete full rehearsal of another dish: a cut of beef served over a thin disc of chocolate made from lupin beans. The sous chefs situate all the component parts on the pass the area where dishes are assembled before being sent to the diners and the entire faculty gathered around in silence to watch Nilsson model how this course would be composed on the plate.

The plating, with its fastidious preparations, differed enforces and tiny dishes, was carried out with the hush of a surgical procedure. Nilsson turned on an overhead lamp and then leaned over the dish with his brow furrowed. He dipped a brush in softened butter. Where is the salt? he asked. Three young cooks careened across the kitchen.

Eventually, he stood up, and the staff leaned in to seem. It seems a little bit on the dry side, Nilsson said to Peeter Pihel, the elder sous chef of the meat station. He waited for the younger chefs to take images for afterwards analyze before slicing the meat and taking a bite, gesturing for his head chefs to follow.

Add some chives, Nilsson told. The meat has been hanging too long over here. It is maybe a little bit over-rested. Everyone chewed pensively. Yeah, he pronounced. Very good.

He intersected the kitchen to hand me a hunk and explained: It has been hanging too long in our aging area, so its too close in texture to charcuterie. The meat savoured rich and vibrant and unfamiliar.

Did you marinate it? I asked.

No, its merely butter and salt, he responded. But its a dairy cow, which is much older than the beef anyone else cook with and its more difficult to cook because its leaner and theres more connective tissue to break. But if you cook it properly, it is very good.

So thats simply the flavor of the meat itself?

He smiled, pleased. That is what beef is supposed to taste like.


Rehearsals continued through the end of the week. Monday would bring the trial for friends and family. Hatim Zubair, the formal, natty Canadian front-of-house director, led three young women servers through the elaborated process of greeting guests. One server would stand on a little bench, seeming out for approaching guests from the rooms one, high window, and announcing when someone was approximately 15 feet away so that Zubair could sweep open the door, as if by magical, right as they reached the threshold. Guests would then be ushered to the bar for champagne and cured meats.Together, the staff practised their routines multiple times for imaginary guests.

The repeats continued in the kitchen as well with final exams of the lambs tongue, which was new to the menu. The tongue was to be served whole, braised slowly according to a method Nilsson found in a Swedish cookbook from 1768, and garnished with brined dandelion and slivers of rhubarb. In the same way as before, the chefs gathered around Nilsson as he assembled the plate, arranging the dandelions in three shambling pilings over the curving tongue. The rhubarb is too thick, he observed, glancing at the cook de partie responsible for vegetables. He then poured a bright green sauce around the base and placed a few thin discs of rhubarb over the top.

Nilsson and Zeller watched as the three younger cooks, who would be in charge of plating this course in the dining room, attempted to imitate his work.

Dont pour the sauce on the whole thing, then theres no contrast while eating, told Nilsson.

And dont have all the dandelion pointing in the same direction as the tongue because it will seem boring, added Zeller.

The apprentices took more dandelions and tried arranging the dandelion over and over.

No, see yours does not look like mine, Nilsson told. Ensure how mine began in three pilings and then connected it a little bit? Yours is just spread out.

They did it again. You are taking too long, Nilsson told mildly. It should be very quick.

Upstairs, two different chefs were debating the perfect angle for the pot manage during service of a burbot fish stew.

At first, it is difficult to see why Nilssons meal necessitates such preparation and repeat, but once you grasp the dimensions of the the undertaking, a few days of rehearsal seems scarcely sufficient. The snack at Fviken can vary from 29 to 33 courses, each with two to six component parts that need to be prepared la minute. Most kitchens prepare in advance and then they assemble in the moment, Nilsson explained. We cook right up until the moment.

For that many courses to feel palatable or interesting to a diner, their pacing needs to be varied and strict. What fills people up is time, Magnus said. You can eat lots in 45 minutes, but if you spread the same quantity of food out over four hours, “youre feeling” tired and full. If we do it right, they will eat everything.

The The vegetable garden at Fviken creates about half the restaurants render. Photograph: Erik Olsson

The kitchen is guided by a giant digital clock blinking each second in fluorescent red. The first seven courses, such as the linseed vinegar dip with mussel sauce, emerge from the kitchen every 100 to 120 seconds. After a intermission, the larger dishes begin: burbot stew, the famous scallop, the lambs tongue, and several others, which arrive every six minutes or so, until the pace accelerates again to about once a minutethrough to the brown cheese pie. The pace picks up and slows down like this until the end of the night.

Every part of the evening is choreographed. The dining room occupies the second floor of an old barn, and to get to it, you ascend steep wooden stairs with no railing, past a full-length fur coat installed on the wall. Aging joints of meat hang from the wall, near to an enormous harness for unidentified livestock. The seem is spartan-luxe, as if designed for a big man by another big human, which builds the pops of delicacy the long stems on the wine glasses, the narrow vases of wild herbs striking. Pinspot lamps are tucked discreetly in the rafters, glistening tightly on the prettiest and most rustic pieces of decoration. Like the food, the room is crafted to feel sylvan and wild, somehow more essential and real than your own life. It is theatre, but when its running you dont care.


There is something faintly absurd about all this, which is exactly what attains it appealing to so many people. One of the premises that has elevated Nilssons work to international acclaim is that food is art and therefore deserving of painstaking care, auteurship, intellectualisation, and occasional worship. To some, this truth is apparent, but it is hardly a dedicated for hundreds of years, food had no such place in culture.( And, of course, even now merely the privileged can afford to engage with it this style .) Writing for the New York Times in 2012, the critic William Deresiewicz issued a corrective: Both food and art, begin by dealing with the senses, but that is where food stops an apple is not a narrative, even if we can tell a story about it. A curry is not an idea, even if its creation is the result of one.

One of Nilssons charms is that he acknowledges that his level of care and craftsmanship is extreme( ridiculous, if you think of food as ga) all there is constructing it seem like a reasonable, desirable, even practical approach. Though he is a tall and substantial human, Nilssons round, pink cheeks and winning smile emphasise his other boyish qualities: exuberance, curiosity, cheerful amiability, impatience. You can see the shining in his eye if he is happy, Zeller told me. And the other way around as well.

Nilsson grew up in the nearby city of stersund and it seems as though his ambitions for food were always titanic. When he was 15, he wrote himself a letter planning out the next 20 years of his life and promising that he would run the best restaurant in the world. He left home that year to be done in order to cooking school in re, the ski resort town simply over the mountain from Fviken. After school, he moved to Paris and took a position at lAstrance, a small Michelin-starred restaurant run by Pascal Barbot. He expended three years there, and then returned to Sweden, where he became so disappointed with the limited selection of make and the be thought that he could not capture an original point of view with his food that he cease cooking altogether. He enrolled in sommelier school, guessing he might write about wine.

Through local connections, he satisfied the owners of the Fviken property, who asked him to come and organise their wine collection. Gradually, he found his route into the kitchen, and in 2008, he took over officially, revamping what had been a small moose-and-potatoes restaurant into a stranger, more ambitious project.

Nilssons mind is connective, kinetic, multi-track. He once, in the kitchen, interrupted his own rapid-fire corrections of the five things going wrong with a course to ask whether I had noticed the pair of reindeer grazing at the edge of the timbers, hundreds of thousands of yards out the window. He talks with equal ease and interest about butchery, American regionalism, book publishing, the economic aspects of dairy production, the history of Swedish socialism and the molecular life cycle of a raspberry. In his spare time, he likes to invent new ingredients or new ways of preparing food. One summer, he became fixated on stimulating soft-serve ice cream. How to use naturally occurring ingredients milk, eggs, etc and still get the texture? He figured out that their own problems was that most soft-serve machines arrive preprogrammed to situates that would ruin natural custard, so he found a highly specialised machine from Japan, flew it over, and tested ingredients and settings several dozen hours until he had the perfect, soft vanilla.

These experiments are mainly a way to hold himself entertained. They also, often, come from a sense that the status quo can and therefore should be improved upon. This was the impetus for Nilssons biggest extracurricular project: his charcuterie company, Underskers Charkuteriefabrik. Several years ago, Nilsson learned that the only pig farm in the area, which had been owned by the same family for generations, was bankrupt and set to close.

He brokered an arrangement: Fviken would buy the swine farmers entire annual output, buy and convert a charcuterie mill 20 minutes away from the restaurant, and begin industrial manufacturing of cured meat to be distributed to grocery stores all over the country. The notion was to construct everyday charcuterie that was just better than other everyday charcuterie, said Nilsson. They would also open a roving hot dog truck, the Korvkiosk, which would drive around Stockholm selling Swedish hot dogs known as korv and, because it pleased Nilsson, soft-serve ice cream.

As we strolled through the factory one afternoon, Nilsson exuded excitement and conviction. He is the only chef of his calibre doing this kind of mass food production, and he is quick to acknowledge that fine dining does not prepare you for commercial production. So why do it? It couldnt be to build a brand: neither Nilsson nor Fviken are mentioned anywhere on the packaging or marketing materials.

Fvikens Fvikens dining room. Photo: Erik Olsson

The answer combines Nilssons brand of idealism and intense practicality. For one thing, he wants to counteract the exodus of people leaving Jmtland in search of work. I think it should be possible to live in these parts of the world, the rural proportions, he told. Also I dont think that there is any benefit to producing most foods for intake somewhere else and shipping them back. It doesnt make sense to me. Unlike many chefs, he is uninterested in opening more and more restaurants. But I like doing this, he said, facing the factory in front of us. I would like to do more of this. The best route of pushing[ the world] in a direction that you want is to construct the change yourself rather than go to food meetings and stimulate little statements that people dont actually care about.

A relentless commitment to the idea that the right choice is also practical in the long run is the hallmark of how Nilsson runs. If you can increase the creative productivity of your eatery by shutting it eight weeks per year, you should do it. If you can keep open an excellent producer with local history and make good food available to more people, you should do it. Change, he hopes, begins with the revelatory first-hand experience of true quality. If you do something the right way, people might take notice and perhaps wishes to do the same.


The night of the trial run began, as each service does, with a checklist. Jakob, who acts as each evenings traffic policeman, stands before the staff holding a piece of paper with the name of every ingredient on the menu, from king crab legs down to the oils and garnishes. Every time he names an ingredient, the chef responsible for that piece of the meal confirms, Yes.

Shallot?

Yes.

Seeds?

Yes.

And so on.

The first time I saw this, Nilsson, who was whispering to me about the American electorate and Swedish regional politics, paused to explain that this ritual is the restaurants system of accountability. When they say yes, it means they take responsibility for the ingredient from its beginning to its current state, and then all the way to the diners mouth.

Fifteen minutes later, Zeller was still reading off the list: Lupin curd? Marigold flowers? Ice cream? And the machine? And the basket?

At seven oclock, the guests began to arrive and a stillnes fell in the kitchen. The chefs curled over their stations, and one of the apprentices began laying out the broad, wooden serve boards over the pass in preparation for the first course. Nilsson interrupted him to point out that one of the members of the security council was not wholly dry. The apprentice, a skinny young man with a toothbrush moustache, apologised and went away, returning with four trays to choose from. Nilsson told, his voice a little tighter, that it makes no sense to bring four trays over. Simply choose two correct ones. The young man paused. And you cant freeze, you need to be able to take correction and keep working.

Yes, whispered the apprentice.

Service began half an hour late, and the first few dishes brought pandemonium: ingredients were not ready at the same day and chefs kept bumping into each other, scrambling to figure out who is in charge of small details, such as cloths for wiping, spatulas, chives.

An hour passed, then two. They struggled on through the courses the asparagus was not set in the exact same place on each plate. The sourdough flapjack was too big. The lupin curd gratinwas a touch watery. Everything was too slow the big red number of the clock counted to zero and when the alarm beeped the zero remained, blinking, and still the plates did not go.

As the night wear on, Nilssons mood darkened and his body hunched. His eyebrow travelled downward on his face until it was set in a deep furrow. He took over plating. Who is supposed to be wiping this after me? he called. Why are you not here? An apprentice stepped up with a towel and thrusting it towards the plate. Nilsson slapped it away. But do not get in the way.

No one could do anything right, and the general consensus in the room seemed to be that this was their fault rather than Nilssons. His occasionally vicious impatience is offset in other moments by his quick return to genuine friendliness with his faculty, most of whom are his age. I like that it must be very good all the time, told Zeller afterward. When he thinks somethings not right, he tells Is this the best you can do? Ask yourself what is the best.

The The remote landscape around Fviken, 350 miles north of Stockholm Photograph: Erik Olsson

Watching Nilsson in the kitchen, or anywhere, one gets the strong impression that this is the only level he can stomach. After a particularly rough episode involving a pork chop, he called a chef over. OK , now you have a moment. Do you have any questions? Are you prepared to do everything perfectly for the rest of service?

The young man began shuffling his notes, looking for his list of responsibilities. I need to check.

Yes or no?

I believe so

Yes. Or no.

Pause. Yes.

OK.

Nilsson then disappeared and popped back up in front of me, holding a glass of water. I simply realised youve run all night with nothing to drink! He grinned and settled in next to me, suddenly calm and chatty. This is pretty good. Weve had messier services. He told me about the first night of springtime season last year, which had been even worse: late dishes, skipped courses, imperfect executing. Only the next day did he find out that two emissaries from the Michelin guide had been there. The meal, messy as it may have been by Fviken criteria, earned the restaurant two stars.

The goal is for everyone to be on the road home by 11 pm, but by that time the staff were just finishing service and preparing for their postmortem. The guests, happy and full, were determining their route from the dining room to the front yard to wrap themselves up and sit around a fire. In the kitchen, Nilsson took the team through the errors and success of the evening in the even, encouraging tones of a coach. The listing of corrections, Nilsson admitted, was longer than it would normally be, but this was OK they would do it all again tomorrow.


Food can never be worth this, Nilsson told. It was the morning of the trial run, and he was sitting in the greenhouse he built in his garden in Mrsil, a small town 16 miles south of Fviken, where he lives with his wife and three young children. We had been talking about the 250 cost of the Fviken meal, and the even greater expense one has to lay out in airfare to get to the restaurant. One unsavory facet of the idea that food is an expression of values a notion Fviken embodies is that it divides the world into virtuous and unvirtuous eaters in a way that is unavoidably tied to class. The ethical food choices( green, local, farm-to-table , non-GMO) are luxuries. It may be true that we would all be better off if everyone shared Fvikens values when it comes to food, but few someones are wealthy enough to attain that choice, let alone eat at Nilssons restaurant. Did it bother him?

Nilssons answer was predictably practical: the snack is expensive because excellent make and an expert, well-treated faculty is expensive. But he was uninterested in defending the cost on principle. The notion of paying that much for a meal is a little ridiculous in a manner that is. The food can never genuinely be worth it. But whats interesting is that the experience can be.

I finally ate the Fviken meal on my last night in Jmtland. In the dining roomarrived a pageant of dishes that was an almost hallucinatory assault on the senses. It was spectacular, but what was it that made this food meaningful? Was it the virtuosity? Was it the knowledge of what that virtuosity demanded? Everyone in the room had travelled hundreds or thousands of miles happening there. They ate their route through the courses carefully, comparing reality to expectation, appraising the experience as they would a paint by David Hockney.

By Nilssons calculation, maybe only 5,000 clients have ever actually been to Fviken. At the moment, he seems most excited about the way Fvikens principles might be extended beyond the restaurant. This is an age when a chef is required to be someone who has sentiments and participates in a public space, he said. You have to be more than just your restaurant. He reaches a much wider audience through the media, but finds that an inefficient style of changing things because those people cannot taste his food. The food, he guesses, is the catalysing experience, current challenges: if you notice how much better this is than any other food you have had before, will you think to ask why? If you know the right way to do things, will you seek it? This is why he is so enthusiastic about the Charkuteriefabrik, which can have 50,000 clients a week across Sweden. They dont get as much datum as you do at Faviken, told Nilsson, but the food product itself, the same quality, it carries our message to them.

After his New York Times polemic against food as art, the outcry was so great that William Deresiewicz wrote a answer. In it, he was contended that food may be less the new art than the new religion. It is, he told, a way to bring us into relationship with reality. In the post-industrial age, in the post-electronic age, feeing is one of the only remaining aesthetic experiences that is not reproducible. You have to be there, have to be present, have to be in linked with the thing itself.

Nilsson once said something similar in an interview, when he described what it was like to eat food by Michel Bras, one of his great masters: A plate goes alive when he makes it, and it vibrates. Do you are familiar with? It actually vibrates, especially if youre is accessible to that kind of experience. And I am.

This experience may come from food that looks like a masterpiece, but Nilsson doesnt think it has to. For me, that moment came as I had bid Fviken goodbye, driven through the sunlit night to the nearest airport, and flown to Stockholm. I tried out Nilssons Korvkiosk, which was parked outside Trdgarden, a trendy music venue located underneath a major highway bridge. Its blue and yellow neon sign hummed cheerily in the late-breaking dusk as young people milled around it, on their style to and from a concert. A white-aproned cookhanded me a skinny, somewhat curved hot dog in a piece of fluffy yellow brioche, wrap in newspaper. The meat was rough on the outside, pocked from charring, and dressed with a little ketchup. It was everything the Faviken meal was not: familiar, humble, a little bit ugly.

I ate it walking. It was perfect.

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Such articles was revised on 23 June 2016. An earlier version incorrectly referred to the chef Pascal Barbot as Pierre, and stated that mycelium is a mushroom. It is, in fact, the vegetative part of a fungus.

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