It is a long journey to Fäviken Magasinet. It doesn’t matter where you start from. After all, the Arctic Circle is never directly nearby. Nevertheless, that evening, besides us, a group of Americans, British, Swiss and Swedes found together. What they all had in common was the journey over snow-covered country roads, steadily narrowing serpentines and small country lanes that were hard to make out in the snow. There are no signs. We advise you to use a GPS navigation Johan gave us on the way. How right he was. This location, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, is an important key to the almost magical mystery surrounding Magnus Nilsson and his restaurant. Nilsson is a master, not only behind the stove, but also in telling and developing these very stories. So the first narrative, the location of Fäviken, is not only the most obvious, but one of the strongest I’ve heard in the culinary world so far.
The book on Fäviken, which was published just a few days ago, also offers plenty to talk about. Although it’s listed in the cookbook section, it’s actually not exactly that. Although you can read about the ingredients and preparation of all the current dishes on the menu at Fäviken, you can’t actually prepare any of them in your own kitchen. But that’s not really the point. Much more, the book focuses on the detailed explanation of the principle: extremely local products of maximum quality and a preparation based both on great craftsmanship, but also on long, regional traditions. Nilsson conveys this so grippingly that I read the book almost in one go.
So we dive into the mystical world of Fäviken. Even on the short walk from the guest wing where we are accommodated for the night to the restaurant entrance lined with bonfires, the smell of fire, coal and smoke is in the air. Punctually at 19:00 guests are invited to first take a seat by the fireplace and enjoy the amuse-gueule in convivial company.
We opted for the wine accompaniment and are put in the mood for the menu with a glass or two of champagne (Puligny Montrachet from 2010).
Already while we are led through the first small courses at a rather brisk pace, the high professionalism of the service team around Johan Agrell becomes apparent. By mail we had expressed the desire to have prepared, in addition to a classic menu sequence, a dinner without meat, but gladly with fish and poultry (as long as there are no heads on it). And without us also having to explain ourselves again or point out this special request, this was implemented without further ado and already taken into account in the amuse-gueule.
By the way, the trout roe, served in a small pastry shell soaked in blood and then baked, and the very spicy pork head baked in a crispy shell, are quite wonderful.
Quite bitter and quite a bit weird then the Crispy Lichens, crispy lichens, deep fried and served on a light dip.
After this first and quite lavish introduction, we enter together the small but very cozy room on the second floor of the former barn, where the further courses are served.
And, as hoped, the menu begins with one of Fäviken’s signature dishes,scallops cooked over burning juniper branches. So scallops, grilled in their own shells over juniper sprigs. Nilsson does without any additional seasoning, only the product counts, perfectly prepared in its own shell and juice.
I found (and borrowed) a video about the preparation here:
Three things are fascinating: first, the sheer size of the scallops. I cannot claim to have ever seen larger pieces of the muscle meat. Huge. Since we were asked to eat with our hands, the first time we touch it, we immediately notice how firm the consistency is, how heavy and massive this large shell seems. And then, of course, the taste. Incredibly intense, both tasting of the mussel itself, but also the smoky aroma comes forward strongly, both almost overlaid by a very light, pleasant sweetness. A fantastic start, visually, sensory and also conceptually. Now I feel I have arrived and await with anticipation whatever else will leave this kitchen during the evening.
There are also some interesting insights into scallops and their origins in the Fäviken book. Of course, they come from the region and, if I remember correctly, are delivered very fresh by a postal ship on the Hurtigruten route. Originally, Nilsson writes, the idea came to him during a vacation in France, in the early hours of the morning he grilled oysters on a campfire on the beach. Again, a dish full of narratives.
This was followed by a half lobster of local provenance, very focused and reduced. Unfortunately, despite being such a high-quality product, it left little lasting impression.
Another visual highlight presented itself in the next fish course, surrounded by small onions filled with homemade grain vinegar. We were much too engrossed in the discussion of the previous courses to be able to follow the detailed explanations about the type and origin of the fish. But very pretty it was, perfectly cooked to the point, very tender and quite ideal to combine with the light acidity.
The monkfish combined with the Dying on your plate kale represented the most challenging dish (from the guests’ perspective) in my opinion. The fish was quite strong, both in terms of the flavor component (again, strong hints of direct fire/charcoal), but the texture was also very firm. The cabbage, on the other hand, was only slightly cooked and actually still raw. Both separately did not want to please at all. But, following the advice of the service and combining on a fork the fish with the cabbage and some of the jellied vinegar, all this makes sense at once. The entire composition seems to come together just so. All three components complement each other so well that the cabbage dominates at first, then the fish comes to the fore and both are lightly surrounded by the acidic hints of the vinegar. Certainly not my favorite course of the evening, but incredibly impressive from a taste school perspective.
After the monkfish we are glad about the swing from the fish courses to the department from the garden (especially since I had to help out with one or the other course and thus had already felt eight fish courses behind me instead of four). A welcome change, then, in this case even initially in the direction of the forest. For the small potatoes were served in a mountain of autumn leaves. The idea here is to fish the potatoes out of the leaves by hand, cut them up and enjoy them dipped in a little butter.
The spring onions, the only ingredient in the next course, were harvested from the winter garden just before preparation. So not only did they spend an unusually long time in the ground, they were also already frozen significantly while stuck in the snow and were thus able to develop a very different taste than one would expect: very sweet, full and round, the texture also changed greatly due to the over-freezing, appearing less fibrous and oniony but rather smooth and soft. Nevertheless, a course that rather puzzled than really inspired.
The porridge was without question of very good, high quality, but at this point of the evening we did not necessarily feel like such a massive and filling dish. But the autumnal broth that was infused at the table was fantastic. An intense reduction of the typical smell of autumn to a few milliliters.
This spectacularly staged dish is also one of Fäviken’s oft-reviewed creations: a large bone grilled for a long time over an open fire is sawed apart in the dining room by Magnus Nilsson, the liquid marrow collected and served along with pieces of raw beef heart and seasonal vegetables.
Apart from the archaic form of preparation and the unusual, because raw heart, an incredibly fresh and much more pleasing dish is created here before the eyes of the guests than the description suggests.
This is also a dish with a higher complexity, both in terms of taste and its particular history. Typically, cattle intended for consumption are slaughtered at up to 24 months of age. At Fäviken, dairy cows are used, some of which have reached an age of six to seven years. The second career thus gives the cow another six months in which she is nurtured, rested and fattened a little. The different cuts of beef are then subjected to a longer aging process, in the case of the top blade cut processed here for as long as nine months. The result is impressive and one of the highlights of the evening for me.
After exciting and demanding meat dishes, a light, fruity course comes in handy.
Later in the evening I have the opportunity to talk with Magnus Nilsson about our dinner by the fireplace. Which dishes have stuck in my mind the most, he asks. Definitely the Dairy Cow, but especially the Pine-bark cake. The latter is also his favorite – and I know exactly why.
This is another dish that only works its magic when the components are combined. An egg yolk, preserved by the addition of sugar and brought to a firm creamy state, very close to the consistency of an onsen egg, bedded on a freshly baked and then grated cake of pine flour. ( The recipe says: The first step is top chop down a pine tree in early spring, strip it of the bark, and then harvest the light green phloem). It is accompanied by an ice cream with little sweet herbaceous and distantly reminiscent of pistachio. Individually considered little spectacular, perhaps even bulky, in any case little after classic dessert, let alone classic patisserie seeming. Put together in the mouth unfolds such intensity and texture that reminds nothing but solid-liquid happiness. The velvety egg, the crispy and slightly buttery crumbs of the cake, plus the clear cold and precise flavor of the ice cream. Incredible and for me one of the strongest impressions of the whole evening.
Finally, with a last dessert, the menu came to its well-deserved end. Sorbet and whipped duck egg had a light and creamy consistency and harmonized wonderfully with the fruits, but frankly we were more than satiated and not in a serious mood for further food intake.
Tea, coffee and various schnapps were still served by the fireplace, and care was also taken in case of spontaneous cravings for further sweet experiments.
Early in the morning we were welcomed to a small but very delicate breakfast. Here again in the absolute starring role: the fantastic bread of Fäviken in combination with the long aged, slightly salty butter. It was accompanied by ham of beef and goat, various cheeses, egg with fermented trout roe and various jams.
Afterwards, a short tour took us around the entire area and also past the gardens, where the fresh produce for the restaurant is grown when the season is more favorable.
The conclusion from this visit: the journey is the destination here. The whole concept of Magnus Nilsson works from my point of view exactly here, exactly in this place, the focus on the local and seasonal, but always exceptional product, the landscape, the ambience – everything fits together perfectly. There are these many little stories to tell, on which much of Fäviken’s global fame is based. Of course, the cuisine is also on the highest level, but extremely individual and hardly any dish can be directly compared with a counterpart anywhere else in the world.
But there is also criticism. It is incomprehensible why these many courses (we counted just over 20) have to be served at such a fast pace. Starting at 19:00, we found ourselves back downstairs in the Fireside Room by 22:00. That’s too fast. Much too fast. Especially considering the fact that actually all guests have time, the Fäviken no one will leave at night anyway. Asked about this fact, Nilsson explained to me at the fireplace that this, however, is the concept. No long breaks, focus on food, too many interruptions disrupt the flow, that’s his theory.
Apart from that, I can only warmly recommend this trip to the Arctic Circle, because scenically it is very impressive even in November and at the same time so pleasantly deserted…
We will be back, no question about it. But then at a different time of year to see how the fresh produce available then affects the menu.
