I would love to eat a really great burger, but it doesn't exist in our part of the world.

That's how people make sense of a meeting: they eat something. If they were in a sad moment it would be the same thing, they'd be eating something. It's what makes life fun. We don't need it to be delicious or great or all these things if we're just to survive. But it's one of those things that makes life fun, livable. And the more I submerge myself in it, the more fun I seem to have.

I still cook at home. A lot of chefs I think don't cook at home. But I still do, I love cooking at home, I love having friends.

The traditional roots of Scandinavian cuisine are not that spectacular, to say the least. When we write about the traditions that we are inspired by, it's more techniques like smoking, preserving. Many of them are not made to make food delicious; they're just around so that you can make food last through the winter. There isn't a great deal of tradition to tap into.

My last meal on Earth, I would love it to be a bowl of blueberries with cold cream.

Take a trip to the forest and experience the greatness of getting on your knees and picking your own food and going home... and eating it.

Summer's the same, autumn is even more extreme. Then winter is when you sort of condense all of your ideas. You process all these things and you try to look for new concepts. In that sense, your intuition is in hibernation. What you fill up is your imagination; you fill up your memories there.