Summer Plot Twist: Norway

How a Chef-in-Residence Program Took Me to a Kitchen in the Fjords of Norway

Aug 07, 2025

First off, I have to admit, I missed a couple of weekly newsletters. I fully intended to write while I was in Norway, but my pre-trip optimism didn’t stand a chance against the exhaustion that hit each night after long hours in the kitchen. Still, I’m back now, with a story that’s well worth sharing. Also, if you have not already checked out my Instagram post about the trip, that might help set the scene.

HOW DID I GET HERE?

Back in March, I took a leap and applied to a chef-in-residence program, never truly expecting to get in. After all, I consider myself more of a passionate home cook than a professional chef, someone who really loves developing recipes. So when the acceptance email landed in my inbox in May, I was completely stunned.

To be honest, I’ve applied to many programs like this in the food world. I’ve pitched articles, jumped through hoops, done the whole song and dance trying to land fellowships. So when something finally comes through, my first instinct is to run it through my well-worn, cynical filter: “This has to be a scam,” I tell myself.

Each photo captures the same mountain, but from a different angle. — Our Everyday View

But now that the program has ended, I’ve left Norway and returned home, armed with hundreds of photos and two witnesses to prove it, I can finally say with certainty: It was real. And I’m allowing myself to lean fully into the joy of this opportunity, to savor the fact that it happened.

Salih and I were welcomed with open arms by one of the warmest families I’ve ever met. At the heart of Ciderhuset and Balholm are Åge, Eli-Grete, Gard and Tuba. Tuba, a Turkish chef and sociologist, married into the family 20 years ago and together they’ve built something truly remarkable. Rooted in family heritage, their work spans award-winning juices, ciders and fruit wines, as well as a restaurant (and way of life) defined by bold flavors and deep generosity.

Those first few days were all about adjusting to the time zone. This was the view we woke up to each morning from the guest house, affectionately called the art house, which served as our home throughout the residency:

Then came the moment I’d been waiting for: stepping into the kitchen. We began testing recipes and shaping the menu together. During the application process, I had proposed a focus on spices, how they bring depth to even the simplest ingredients. So naturally, many of the dishes I contributed were centered around amplifying and celebrating spice: the cooling lift of dried mint, the gentle heat of pul biber (Aleppo pepper) and the warmth of cardamom and cinnamon. Tuba and I quickly found a rhythm. We exchanged ideas and the kitchen became a space of play and experimentation.

ON THE MENU

Tuba has been running the chef-in-residence program for the past few years and it’s clear she’s a true creator and collaborator. She thrives on outside influence and fresh perspectives, welcoming new ideas into her kitchen with excitement. Working alongside her was both inspiring and energizing.

During our time together, we explored a range of flavors and techniques. We made a spin on tonnato sauce using herring instead of tuna, folding it gently into sweet crab meat. We prepared smoky eggplant salad and delicate eggplant rolls, shaped individual yufka manti by hand and rolled out homemade gözleme stuffed with seasonal fillings. We pickled apples, roasted carrots and laced them with warm, fragrant spices.

For dessert, we made lavender-infused panna cotta, soft and floral, paired with crisp, chocolate florentines. See the final menu below:

As I continue to shape and refine my culinary perspective, this collaboration with Ciderhuset has played a meaningful role in helping me understand what excites me in the kitchen. Over time, I’ve noticed a clear pattern: I’m consistently drawn to vegetable-forward dishes that allow bold spices and bright herbs to take center stage.

There’s something deeply satisfying about coaxing flavor out of humble ingredients, transforming eggplant, carrots or mint into something memorable. I love the way spices like cumin, sumac, Aleppo pepper or cardamom can add depth and warmth, while herbs like parsley, dill or basil bring balance and lift. These elements bring complexity without relying on meat or heavy sauces. Vibrant, intentional and rooted in tradition, but always open to play and reinterpretation.

MY FIRST BITE OF NORWEGIAN FOOD CULTURE

While I know I’ve only just scratched the surface of Norway’s food culture, I deeply enjoyed the opportunity to begin understanding the country’s culinary traditions. As you can see from the map above, Norway’s geography, defined by its vast coastline, deep fjords and rugged interior, has a direct influence on what ends up on the plate. With such an extensive maritime border, seafood plays a central role in the national diet, from preserved and cured fish to fresh catches served simply. Inland, there’s a strong emphasis on game meats like reindeer and moose, reflecting the country's hunting traditions and deep connection to the land. Dairy also features prominently, with cheeses, butter and cultured products. And of course, the humble potato, adaptable, hearty and comforting, is a staple found on tables across the country. Here a few links to foods I was able to taste and cook with:

NOTES TO CARRY FORWARD

There’s much more I could say about how this experience impacted me. One moment that stands out happened late one evening, after a long day in the kitchen. A group of us, from six different countries, gathered around a table and found ourselves in a conversation about the concept of home and even death. These heavy topics somehow unfolded with warmth, humor and real perspective. It’s a conversation that’s stayed with me, one I’m still reflecting on and may explore more deeply in a future post.

But for now, thank you for reading this far and for your curiosity about this unexpectedly beautiful adventure I stumbled into.

If there’s one takeaway I can offer, it’s this: take a risk on yourself. Even if it doesn’t work out the first time (or the tenth), the act of showing up, trying again and staying open to possibility is powerful. It’s refining. It’s revealing. And sometimes, it leads to something real and unforgettable.