Ossigeno #13

Seduction and revolution of botanical gastronomy. A conversation with Emile van der Staak Stefano Santangelo In the province of Gelderland, Netherlands, an almost whispered revolution began about sixteen years ago. Like all notable uprisings, it evolved into a full-blown riot – in this case, taking place on a 2.5 hectare battlefield, on which thirty-two active soldiers are deployed. The army that the botanists Wouter van Eck and Pieter Jansen assembled is one of plant species that provide food year-round, without the use of irrigation, pesticides, or fertilisers. It is the Food Forest Ketelbroek – a physical place and a discursive space where the following dialogue with Emile van der Staak, founder of De Nieuwe Winkel, a Michelin-starred restaurant and a hotbed of new ideas for sustainable and responsible cuisine, is ideally set. The umbilical cord between De Nieuwe Winkel and the Food Forest Ketelbroek is indistinguishable from the other, equally invisible ones that connect the countryside with the city: it coils about twelve kilometres into the country and from there passes the nourishment — the raw material — that forms the bones, muscles, and tissues of the idea of a minimally environmental-impact cuisine, with high social impact. The Food Forest Ketelbroek is a womb that generates incessantly. We are all part of a system, at once natural and artificial, that is evolutionary in nature, and your personal evolution has taken you from a degree in civil engineering to a Michelin-starred kitchen. As we evolve and grow, we are inevitably saddled with some responsibilities, and take on others willingly. I’m wondering if being part of a movement that feels responsible for doing something about climate change grew out from your natural approach to vegetarian and vegan cuisine, or did this interest, this activism preceded it. I have always believed that whatever profession I chose, I wanted to be part of the solution. Had I pursued engineering, I would likely have focused on timber constructions and bio-based building materials. But I became a chef. And it quickly became clear that the greatest challenges of our time – biodiversity loss, climate change, health issues, and animal welfare problems – are all closely linked to food. The most impactful thing we can do for the planet is to eat less meat, particularly less beef. This realisation shaped the foundation of De Nieuwe Winkel, which from the beginning embraced the mantra: fewer animals, more plants. Over time, this evolved into a fully plant-based restaurant. For me, moral ambition means not only excelling within my field, but also taking responsibility for driving a meaningful change. It’s not just about causing less harm, but about actively creating a better alternative. That’s why I didn’t just reduce the use of animal products. I committed to developing an entirely plant-based cuisine, not as a limitation, but as an opportunity. As a chef, you don’t just influence what people eat; you can shape the culture around food. You have the ability to shift public’s perception, to show that plant-based cuisine isn’t just necessary but also exciting, innovative, and deeply gastronomic. Food is more than sustenance: it’s tradition, experience, and identity. By introducing new flavours, techniques, and ways of thinking about food, you can help people embrace change. And with every successful dish, every memorable experience, acceptance grows. By taking plant-based gastronomy seriously and elevating it to the highest level, we lower the barrier for people to engage with it. What was once seen as niche or a compromise is now becoming the new normal. The more people discover that plant-based food is not just sustainable but also delicious and full of possibilities, the more it becomes a preferred and celebrated alternative. In this way, change becomes not only necessary – but inevitable. And it was necessary for you to discover the Food Forest Ketelbroek and its creator, botanist Wouter van Eck. Would you explain how this encounter came about? Even though Wouter and I lived just a few kilometres apart, it took a mutual friend from Amsterdam to finally set up a meeting between us. I still remember that first encounter vividly. It was over ten years ago, on a cold and rainy day in November, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled to show up at what was then a very young food forest – a baby-forest, really. But the moment Wouter started speaking, everything changed. The first sentence he said stuck with me: «Agriculture as we know it is an empty field in spring, then a lot of input – big machines, fossil fuels, pesticides, fertiliser, weeding, ploughing, watering – and then, at the end of the season, an empty field again. This is not how nature works. If you do nothing in our climate, everything will eventually turn into a forest». That idea resonated deeply. It was such a simple but radical perspective. Instead of fighting against nature, what if we work with it? What if food production could actually support biodiversity instead of depleting it? It was a completely different way of looking at agriculture, and I wanted to understand more. So, I came back. Every week. I wanted to see, to learn, to experience how this food forest worked, how it grew, evolved, and sustained itself. Over time, the Food Forest Ketelbroek became not just a source of inspiration but an integral part of De Nieuwe Winkel. The philosophy behind it – letting nature take the lead, embracing diversity, patience, and resilience – became the foundation for the way I cook. What started as a rainy November meeting turned into a long-term collaboration and friendship. Wouter’s vision changed the way I think about food, ingredients, and what a truly sustainable and responsible menu can be. Now that your association with the Food Forest Ketelbroek as well as the Bodemzicht and De Ommuurde Tuin regenerative gardens – from which you source the raw materials – has become so significant to your work, I imagine you make suggestions. There’s a constant exchange of inspiration. It’s never a one-way street. Take Esther from De Ommuurde Tuin, for example: she studied forest ecology, so she already had a natural affinity for these ideas. Over the years, she started growing Chinese mahogany specifically for me, and I source large amounts of wild garlic, Douglas fir, and linden leaves from her. The initiators of Bodemzicht were already moving in a similar direction, questioning the reliance on annual crops, like cauliflower and onions, and shifting towards a greater focus on perennial species. We regularly discuss which plants are particular successful in the kitchen, so they can integrate them into their planning. 138 139

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