Raw rhubarb and roasted oats.

There is something about rawness. A stringy acid that draws your cheek inside out with a following production of saliva that will soon take care of the available carbohydrate and provide you with energy. But after a few bits of this raw rhubarb, the fresh sensation converts into an intolerable torture.

When I compose a dish I always try to analyze the main component.

• For this dish: I thought of raw rhubarb as a green apple because of the tasting similarities. Green apples and almonds are a nice flavour combination.
• To make it taste well: the sourness in the raw rhubarb had to be balanced with some sweet honey. Still, the acid seemed more fighting than caring.
• As a true accident: when I was going to eat sour milk and oatmeal in the late evening, tired of not finding out a taste sample to serve outside in the herb garden the following day, I ate a piece of raw rhubarb along with the sour milk. And, once again, I felt that fresh sensation – but now for an extended amount of time and without any intolerable torture.

I mixed raw rhubarb with almonds, honey, sour milk and a bit of salt until it became a smooth paste with a dynamic flavour profile. All ingredients should appear, or atleast contribute. I added some roasted nuttiness into the dish. There is a production of roasted whole oats, that has been soaked and milled, in Värmland – really delicious – called skrädmjöl. I took skrädmjölsdrömmar (Swedish dream cookies with both skrädmjöl and wheat flour) and sprinkled it on top of the mixed rhubarb paste and served it on the best tasting lettuce I could find in the kitchen garden: rouge d’hiver.

Regina Spektor – Eet

Time: or what the baking tray does for a chocolate cake.

You cant quantify enjoyment of a journey with time. Still, I think you need to include it as a parameter, for the journey organization, because of the increased focus on the reason why you travel – what ever it is. 

10 months? 3 years? For ever? I don’t know. It highly depends on your economic income/outcome; reason of journey; future interests; travel partner; and any unpredictable events. I do love the idea of traveling for an unpredictable time; to know that it doesn’t matter if you accidently stayed for a very long time in that comfy hut: with the beach just outside and only your own reflections to worry about. But how good shape would the chocolate cake be in if it didn’t have the baking tray as a framework on how far it could go. You could pour more chocolate in… but if the tray is too wide – it will get flat.

Spontanity for a journey with long memories.

How much time and effort could you possible spend before the planning goes from an opportunity donor to an experience preventer? Let’s say you you want to go to Hawaii because of the hula dance. This gives you an opportunity to meet new people; places… and so on. But if you complexify this planning by doing some perfectly normal things, like: google the history of hula to find out that kahiko is the dance for you and not that shallow, western influenced, ‘auna…; or youtube ”how to hula dance”, which gives you an exhilirated warmth, but only to find out that you need a full body mirror; a sense of rythm; grace; and sensuality. The dream of hula dance, and Hawaii for that matter, just got squashed.

What about organizing? Is that the same thing as planning? I don’t think so. Could organizing become an obstacle for spontaneity? If the organizing doesn’t include spontaneity – yes. Maybe you could think of spontaneity as a part of organizing as the donut does for its delicious hole. The good side of spontaneity seems to be the short time of expectation. The short expectation favor surprises and surprises could become long memories. But if the spontaneous act doesn’t include intuition; experience; feelings; and thoughts – things can go wrong. Don’t be impulsive.

Gastronomic vagabond: an art of living or just a cheap excuse?

I love to travel. Sitting on a train and doing nothing – but still going somewhere. Gastro is derived from the ancient greek gastros and means stomach. Gastronome can be explained as someone who loves food; drinks… and has some experience in loving it, simply. A vagabond is someone who moves from place to place and lives, unlike escargots, without any permanent home.

If the gastronomic vagabond could be an art of living – oh yes! And it would be awesome. Is it a cheap exuse? Maybe. But who doesn’t like to walk around in dirty sandals on a city street of wet paving stones where the morning sun evaporates the moisture and at the same time eat some crispy fried chicken, served with a cup of chilled cumin and lemon yoghurt.

Magnus Westling. 1990. Blue eyes and a head full of food.

Since the fourth week of my first restaurant working experience on, at that time, Swedish best restaurant: Edsbacka Krog, my head; and body for that matter, has been full of food.

Now it’s the time for a more global food experience – and I invite anyone who wants to join me. The food journey will start in one year (summer 2013) and in the meantime… I will dedicate this website for preparation.