In Nicolai’s family, food is cooked over an open fire
Four years ago, Nicolai Tram, a trained chef, quit his job, and so did his wife, Eva. They sold almost everything they owned and moved to a forest in Sweden, where they have since lived and simultaneously worked with food and gastronomy.
“We simply had enough of our everyday life in Copenhagen. Everything was going too fast, we were constantly busy, and I felt like I was racing home from work every day. I felt like a slave to a paradigm where work came first,” says Nicolai Tram.
He felt that wherever he was, his thoughts were somewhere else. If he was at work, his thoughts were at home with the children and Eva. If he was at home, his thoughts were at work.
“My thoughts were always in the places where I wasn’t. It was a kind of pseudo-life, where I was scrambling to keep up appearances at the expense of my mood,” he says.
Today, they live life in the forest with nature – and not work – as the focal point.
“It was quite anxiety-provoking before we did it, but often the worries are the worst. It turned out there was nothing to worry about,” says Nicolai Tram and continues:
“And one should probably also remember that it’s not an ultimate decision to move to another country. It’s not like there’s a door that closes, so you can’t go back again. If it hadn’t worked, we would have just moved back. But it worked well – really well – and today we can’t even dream of moving back.”
After the move, Nicolai Tram rediscovered his joy of cooking. Now, however, the food is made over an open fire instead.
“The fire has something quite fantastic. There’s presence and coziness because you can’t control the fire in the same way as a stove, and it requires you to be present all the time,” he says.
Additionally, according to Nicolai Tram, there’s something ‘primal’ about cooking over an open fire.
“It was our ancestors who discovered that you could heat food over fire and absorb nutrients better that way. Without cooking on fire, there’s nothing. It’s just boring. I quite like that thought,” he says.
Although Nicolai had sworn he would never own a restaurant again, it turned out that way. He and Eva have opened a small restaurant at the bottom of the house they live in.
“It actually doesn’t feel like going to work at all, but just like having dinner guests, and we love that. So it’s perfect!” he laughs.
We ask – Nicolai answers
What is Nicolai Tram’s favorite ingredient, what is so fantastic about cooking over an open fire, and when was he last impressed by a dining experience out? We ask, and Nicolai answers.
Who are you?
I am the father of our two boys, Finn and Bjørn, aged eight and ten. I’m also married to Eva. Four years ago, we quit our jobs, sold everything we had, and moved to Sweden. Here, Eva and I are self-employed with our own company, where food is the focal point.
I don’t say what I work with first because I try to avoid letting my work become my identity. There are many other things that define us as people beyond what we work with.
Education?
I am a trained chef and have worked at the restaurant La Terraza del Casino in Spain, Dragsholm Castle, and Restaurant Jacobsen.
Today, my wife and I run a company where we, among other things, provide recipes and photos, develop ideas, and do consultancy work. In addition, I have written several cookbooks about cooking over an open fire, and I have appeared on Go’ Morgen Danmark as a chef.
We have also opened a restaurant in the basement of the house we live in here in Sweden.
How has your path to what you do today been?
It can probably be briefly described as a rebellion.
I previously felt that I was being forced into a box and that I had to fit into a hamster wheel. I had set the rules myself, but they were copied from others’ lives. I had seen how others managed work, children, house or apartment, and admired them for it. Having a career job and a house, dog, and Volvo was the ideal. When I found myself in the middle of it, I felt extremely torn between the things I wanted. I felt I barely had time to be there for my children, my wife, my work, and my friends.
We weren’t particularly happy. So we made a big change and left our entire life in Copenhagen to move to Sweden. It has given us more time and more surplus. We spend a lot of time in nature, and the greatest of all is nature. Right now, I’m standing and looking out at something I would almost describe as Narnia; a snow-covered forest, a rushing river. It’s utterly fantastic.
Why have you written cookbooks about cooking over an open fire?
I am a trained chef, and I can’t let that go. I live and breathe to cook.
When you move to a forest in Sweden, it’s natural to light a fire. Just as unnatural as it might seem to light a fire in an inner courtyard in Copenhagen, it’s natural here. You light fires everywhere.
Something happened inside us when we lit the fire. It became a gathering point and extended the seasons because you could be outside even when it was cold and gray or snowing. You sit and look into the flames, and I started thinking that you could probably put some food in it. So when I sat there in front of the fire and started cooking on it, I relived my passion for cooking. I had been missing that. And I wanted to pass on that passion.
What’s so great about cooking over an open fire?
I really like the presence when cooking over an open fire. You have no temperature control as such, so you have to be focused, concentrated, and engaged in what you’re doing. The fire will always do something other than what you want. There is a concentration and focus that occurs when cooking over an open fire.
I also like that you are out in nature when cooking. In our family, we make a big deal out of finding beautiful surroundings to cook in.
I like the taste and the smoke. I like the intense heat. It’s especially good for caramelizing.
I like the concept. You can do things with fire cooking that you don’t normally do in a kitchen. In a regular kitchen, you can’t, for example, cook a piece of meat that hangs over the heat and is cooked by the radiant heat from the flames.
It’s a bit cooler to cook over a fire than on a grill. You’re in touch with something primal. It’s the fire-cooked food that has created us and made us who we are. There’s no doubt about it. Without the fire, we’d still be sitting in bare bottoms chewing on eucalyptus leaves. In the past, there were forest fires, and it caused the meat to char. Our ancestors discovered this, and by eating it, they found, among other things, that you could absorb nutrients faster than if you chewed, for example, leaves. The fire made us feel safe and allowed us to move further north because we could keep warm with the fire.
What’s your tip for the best dish cooked over an open fire?
If you need to peel it, don’t. Whether it’s a beetroot, parsnip, carrot, or potato. Don’t peel it, but put it in the embers and burn off what you would normally peel. Afterwards, remove the burnt part, and you have a tender, juicy, delicious interior that’s insanely tasty.
What’s your best memory from the kitchen?
I have many good memories, and many are centered around the fire kitchen.
There was a time last year – actually around this time – when my wife insisted that we all sleep in a tent by a beautiful lake. There wasn’t heaps of snow like there is this year, but it was cold and gray. We set up tents, and at night it became frosty. We ended up freezing. There was frost on the tent when we got up, and my children were completely shocked that my wife had thrown them into the forest to sleep. We made morning rolls in our dutch oven as the sun rose over the lake, and it was so beautiful. It’s a damn good memory, partly because we were met with a challenge that we overcame.
My wife and I often talk about having this idea that once we clear the challenge, we’ll be happy and content. Not before. But that’s not true. The challenges help create the feeling of happiness.
What dish do you like to make the most?
Right now, I have a dish on the menu at our restaurant that I’m crazy about. It’s a charred leek with a sauce made from pheasant. I really enjoy making it. It’s a really simple dish, but it tastes insanely good.
I like making food where you can’t hide. There are no flowers, herbs, foam, or gel. It’s just a leek and a sauce. This places demands on the ingredients and that things are made fantastically. If they aren’t, the dish isn’t good. There’s a nakedness in the dish that I like.
What dish do you make most often in your own kitchen?
Pasta with meat sauce for the boys. I also make that over the fire.
What’s your favorite dish?
All food that is made with respect and love.
What’s your favorite ingredient?
Leeks. I like the sweetness that leeks have. And they have complexity in the layers, where they become completely inedible, in a way, where they squeak in your mouth if they’re not cooked properly, but fantastic if they are.
I quite like that leeks come from the bottom shelf in the ingredient hierarchy. You often take the green top and cut it away, then slice the bottom part into rings and use it in a soup or similar. But leeks have a fantastic taste, a fantastic structure, and a fantastic mouthfeel.
I like looking at leeks. That they can be tiny and thin or huge and thick like a baseball bat. They can do a lot of things.
Where and when were you last impressed by a dining experience out?
Last year at this time, my wife, Eva, and I were invited to the USA with our children to do a pop-up restaurant. When we finished that, we were invited to the head chef’s home. He made fire-cooked food for the four of us, and it was quite good overall. But he made a dish with a charred pineapple, where he threw a whole pineapple with the skin into the fire and charred it completely. It tasted fantastic. I must admit, I “plagiarized” the dish afterward and almost took credit for it, it was that good. But it was his idea.
Do you have a favorite restaurant?
It was Geist. But Bo Bech has stopped there, and I haven’t actually eaten there since.
I’m a sucker for when someone dares to present themselves entirely unadorned and pure, allowing a few ingredients to speak for themselves. Bo Bech is a master of that, and he is a great inspiration for me.
What’s your favorite machine?
My mechanical rotisserie from 1890, which I gave myself for my 40th birthday. I’m pretty fond of it. It can be taken out to the fire since it doesn’t require power. So you can do rotisserie on it over the fire, and I think that’s pretty cool.
What’s your least favorite kitchen machine?
I have a strained relationship with sous vide. Mostly because it’s the diametrical opposite of fire-cooked food. Everything is controlled and regulated. In my mind, when everything is controlled and regulated, the presence slips away. With sous vide, you put the meat in a bag and then forget about it. There’s no love in it. It’s just control. Where there’s only control, there’s no love.
What do you think is the most important thing people should remember when cooking?
Remember that someone is going to eat what you’re making! You shouldn’t cook to dust off your ego but to please others. That should be the driving force when cooking. There’s a reason it’s called a restaurant because people are restored there. I think that part is important.
Facts
Name: Nicolai Tram
Residence: Sweden
Father of two children aged eight and ten.
Runs Homemade Agency with his wife, Eva, where they, among other things, provide recipes and photos, develop ideas, and do consultancy work – all centered around food and gastronomy. They also have a restaurant – Knystaforsen – at the bottom of the house they live in.
He and his wife are also authors of “Bogen om bålmad” and “Grøn bålmad“.
Find Nicolai Tram on Instagram under @nicolaitram.
Photo: Eva Tram