Food Studio

Today started with a meeting being cancelled, which created a bit of free time in my day, and instead of rushing off, I found a spot in the sun on a bench on the way back from nursery and listened to a podcast.

Lately, I have been working on creating two collections for everyone behind the Future Library in Oslo. It has been an incredibly honourable assignment. To be allowed to dive into work with so much love, and to give care and love back to those behind it, is one of the finest invitations we have received this year.

At this very moment, I am sitting in a packed café, while outside it is pouring down. The summer holidays were suddenly over; emails have started ticking in, and tasks suddenly have a deadline approaching. This summer, I have truly unplugged, given myself a proper break from everything, limited input and noise like news, social media, and mobile scrolling. We have worked both physically with restoration, carpentry and painting, made beds, and communicated with guests. But I have been very selective about what kind of input I wanted to take in.

This Thursday, we are once again inviting everyone to gather around the long table at Losæter. This time, to honour everyone who, in their own way, has left their mark—big or small—on the co-creation of this place, which has evolved into so much more than just a location. It feels a bit as if the grassroots installed a magnet that pulls right at the hearts of those who truly care, are curious, and wish to understand, and that this force doesn't let go easily.

Field notes from the process with us in Food Studio & Future Library. It has been a long time since I have felt that I could say "we" in Food Studio. There have been many years where I have steered the ship alone, cut costs down to a minimum and only said yes to commissions I knew I could deliver on my own.

At the moment I am sitting overlooking the fjord of and the mountains of Saltdal having a winter break in the north of Norway. There is a peaceful quietness after a storm yesterday. The sun is slowly waking up in the winterlandscape, breaking through in dots on the mountains around. One of the most valuable teachings of last year has the importance of this rest, this silence after a storm. How this is where we regenerate, where we charge, and get ready for the next round.

The past year Maaemo has been given a lot of attention, also here in Norway, but maybe most of all from abroad. With their non-compromising approach to organic and local ingredients, the art of cooking, design and the whole food experience, they have mesmerized many, driven bloggers bananas and made food critics wish their dice had more than six eyes. But if you ask them, they are just getting started.

British-American writer Henry James  once wrote “It takes an endless amount  of history to make even a little tradition”.  We have many food traditions in Norway  that can prove this to be true.  The small team of nerdy dairy  enthusiast at Rørosmeieriet are working  hard to preserve and take care of one of  these treasures as they balance the fine  line between tradition and innovation.  From ancient knowledge, maybe a bit  of luck and skillful handcraft, a strange  milky brew from the past is giving us  vital health and connection to our roots. 

You know it is the month of August when the days are sunny and warm, but the nights remind us that it won’t be long till the leaves turn yellow and orange. This is the time to harvest the fresh, delicious vegetables the soil has produced over the summer. On our Summer Get Away, we travelled to Lislerud farm to do just that.

Try and ask any child to come along with you to a hospital. You’d probably find that most would dread it – the grey corridors, the sterile environment,  the chemical smells, the absence of life. Hospitals are usually not a place you come to be invigorated, but, rather, a place to be avoided at all costs. So, let's then picture an ideal hospital ... a place dedicated to promoting life, beauty and health on all levels.

Cock-a-doodle-doo! The rooster Tor-Ild calls early in the morning Saturday, June 13th. During the summer, this usually happens twice: first, around five as the sun starts to warm up the hen house and then around 7:30, when it is time to wake. I peek out the window and see the green leaves on the trees move gently. The weather is nice, a few scattered clouds and some glints of sunlight. The air is clear and filled with the scents of early summer: shots of spruce, lilac, grass, forget-me-not, manure, lily of the valley, birch, roses, pine, lichen, timo- thy, and soil; the sun-heated fur of horses and dogs.

In the search for solutions that recognize the interconnectedness of root causes, my pilgrimage led me to the Ayurvedic system of healing. Can the legacy of Eastern medicine traditions contribute to our quest towards restoring balance and reviving our connection to nature?

By walking we ask questions By walking we make a path 7-9 of June Flatbread Society with Oslo Apiary invited to a three-day journey from Losæter, Oslo, to the Henie Onstad Art Center, Bærum. This walk connects these two sites via the coastline. At once a commons and a site of rapid enclosure, this coastline will be activated by a group of bodies as a means to keep it free and open and inline with Norway’s, "all mans right to roam": allemannsretten.

Bøgedal Bryghus, a small craft brewery located in Jylland in Denmark, delivers beer for a number of acclaimed restaurants, including Noma and Aamanns in Copenhagen, as well as Maaemo in Oslo. Their beers are especially celebrated for the full-bodied malt flavor, the result of an old traditional brewing method making the so-called “Godtøl”, directly translated good beer. And good beer it certainly is.

Snøen hadde ikke ligget lenge på fortauene, og bakken var glatt og minusgradene holdt seg stabilt. Utenfor Schous bibliotek på Grünerløkka knitret det ivrig fra bålet og nysgjerrige forbipasserende satt seg ned på benkene og fikk en varmende kopp med ingefærgløgg som fått nytt liv. Det var tid for det årlige overskuddsbordet, et langbord dekket for alle byens innbyggere med maten man trodde ingen ville ha.

MAD is sharpening the knives, mobilizing chefs from all over the world to use their powers both inside and outside the kitchen. Fighting for social sustainibility, a better distribution of resources and a change in the economical structure. At the 4th MAD symphosium in Copenhagen, the pot was boiling around some very important questions; «What's Cooking? What's Changing? What's Not Working?»

“Are you ready?” asks the artist, with a sculpture shaped like an animal head over her shoulders. “Yes. Let´s go, then”, replies the baker, carrying a backpack constructed from wood filled with seeds, sourdough bread and some naan. They are followed by four other “carriers of bread”, the artist group, Futurefarmers, and the baker, Emmanuel Rang. They start the walk from Losæter – an urban agricultural site in the middle of Oslo–to the peri-urban farm of Johan Swärd.

« Can you hear the birds talk », Veronika said and took me by the hand. We paced up and down the corridor, our hands intertwined. At the end of the corridor we took a break and looked out the small window that smiled of autumn. I was hoping the iron bars could melt away in the smile, but the bars resisted there was not enough space for the birds to fly in through the window to our locked ward.

In 1971, a group of young activists occupied a vacant barracks area in Copenhagen. Their vision was to build an alternative society based on sustainability, community and consensus democracy. After forty years of tumult with the police and the government, Christiania has been working towards seceding from the Kingdom of Denmark since 2011. But what has happened to make them come so close to becoming a legal state? And can the community of Christiania cooperate with the government on sustainability work? I spoke to State Archivist Ole Lykke, hoping to understand the connection between community, sustainability, drugs and democracy in Christiania, Copenhagen.

We waste food enough to feed one billion people, yet growing your own carrots can get you in jail. The very first EAT Food Forum in Stockholm this spring gave us some spicy mouthfuls.

When I was a child, the act of painting or drawing was always the way of communication. It was also my only weapon which can protect my own realm, and make the realm visible with my own hand. When I work on illustrations, I always keep this in mind. On our latest journey to Japan we were lucky to work with Yuri in Osaka. Inspired by her work we wanted to share her story with you here.

Aritayaki, a kind of Japanese pottery, finds its roots in the ancient ceramics town of Arita located on Kyushu Island in southern Japan. It was in this town, in the year 1616, that the Koreans first introduced the art of pottery to Japan. Up to today Arita still produces ceramics made by local craftsmen using the distinctive ingredient of clay made from crushed stone.

Why is community important and why do humans seek it? What are we actually searching for in the meeting and melting with others and how does it relate to my personal evolution? If the evolution of this planet also is mirrored in the ways we relate, what lessons are waiting to be learned in terms of the way we build our communities? These questions have been echoing in my being this fall.

Fremja is a new social therapeutic initiative in Norway for youths and grown-ups that for different reasons need adapted work or living situations. Frode Wendelboe is one of the founders and calls himself an artist of care. We had a talk about the need to merge ecological and social work and why the solutions are interdependent.

The Food Studio Gift card is close to a perfect gift, every time, every day, every year.

2019 was the year Oslo was awarded the status of European Green Capital. 675 environment-related events around Oslo's streets, buildings and nature. In December, the stage was set for the final feast, and the Food Studio provided guidance on the menu and décor. A mix of local residents, politicians and organizers poured into the main entrance to City Hall on December 16.

"With these kinds of projects one must be surrounded by passionate souls, by people that love what they do and what they stand for." Jon-Frede Engdahl reaches out his hand and offers a good cup of coffee. It’s easy to talk with him about raw materials, market shares, possibilities, ecology and idealism. One story leads to another and, before you know it, it’s lunchtime and the restaurant is suddenly filled with hungry women and young mothers on maternity leave.

Can silence be a superpower? What is the potential of slowing it all down and diving into the practice of listening? Poet and researcher Olga Lehmann has studied what silence can do to us, our multi-layered health and everyday wellbeing.

An evening in April Food Studio arranged a tribute evening to the old-fashioned baking traditions that in the 90's were on their way off breakfast tables across Norway. Now, this traditional craft is on it´s way back, with growing interest amongst hobby bakers, professionals, food bloggers and other baking devotees.

Max Hansen is a Dane, born in the outskirts of Helsingør/Elsinore where he was raised with his five brothers. He is a chef, a celebrated chef. When Food Studio shared the duties of organising a pop-up dinner in Ålesund, he was in charge of the kitchen together with colleague Kasper Nikolajsen and provided a fantastic dinner cooked exclusively with local ingredients.We couldn't miss the chance to interview him and talk about his views on Norwegian food, managing restaurants and hyper-stuffed lunch boxes.

My love for wild plants as food and medicine started when I worked as a budeie, or a milk maid, at a sæter (summer pasture) in Hemsedal in the middle of the mountains. There I stayed in a small cabin without any electricity, water or toilet. I would wake up early in the mornings to milk the cows with the owner. We would make heavy cream and sour cream with a hand-powered milk separator and we would repeat the process after dinner.

Flo og Fjære is a widely used term that describes the growth and nature around the coastline of Norway, and it was this concept that set the scene for Food Studio's seventh event held in the middle of May.

You know that Christmas song? The one where they sing about Christmas being the ”most wonderful time of the year”? Although Christmas has it perks, and can definitely offer some very cosy, wonderful moments, they got it wrong. The most wonderful time of year isn’t Christmas. It’s spring. It’s now.

It all began up at the old cabin Sæterhytten on Dronningberget, where everyone met to a introductory speech by Idun Leinaas, followed by a warming, bright orange pumpkin soup heated over a bonfire and served in the chill autumnal air. As people finished their cup of soup, it was time to continue on in one of the four knowledge groups.