Expat chefs put the world on our plates

Food and eating can be among the most intimate of human activities, and at the same time the most social. When you eat in a restaurant, you’re asking the chef, usually a stranger, to prepare something with his or her hands for you to eat. It requires the utmost trust, yet we do it without thinking.

For some cooks, the relationship is even wider: they have become, by the nature of their enterprise, representatives of a whole other country, of a culture, of a history. They present to you not only their own skills and tastes but also those of the place and the people they come from and have left behind.

Karin De Bruyn and Guido Everaert have gathered together the stories of 20 such food ambassadors in the new book Melting Pot: De wereld kookt in België (The World Cooks in Belgium). It’s not only restaurant chefs: there are the Sudanese owners of a food shop, a Portuguese pastry baker, a Turkish olive oil trader, a Bolivian barman and the proprietor of an Indian food truck.

“About 10 years ago, I met a Belgian guy who was living in Portugal,” De Bruyn explains. “He’d left everything behind and was living a much simpler life. And he was much happier than he’d been here. That was something that stuck in my mind, and it occurred to me that if we found people like him abroad, there must be similar stories the other way around.”

So they went looking for people who came to Belgium for whatever reason – “sometimes well thought-out and sometimes by pure chance”.

They weren’t interested in telling everyday stories of people who come from another country and open a restaurant. Instead, they wanted people with outspoken opinions on cuisine, or, indeed, on life. De Bruyn: “The people we ended up selecting all have things in common: They have a lot of talent, but they also question themselves. Even the Michelin-starred chef doesn’t think he’s at the top. These people are always doubting themselves, looking for new ways to be innovative.”

The essence of food

One of the expats is a chef from Iceland, Vilhjalmur Sigurdarson of Souvenir in Ypres, who illustrates that trait perfectly. He trained in his homeland but decided to strike out in the wider world.

“Compare it with mountain climbing,” he says. “The preparation is immense, and the excitement you feel when you reach the first summit is unimaginable. Of course you’re proud of yourself, but then the real drama unfolds in front of your eyes: all those other summits that have to be conquered. Every chef is a hopeless romantic: We wreck our bodies, our lives, our relationships, all in the quest for the ultimate. The ultimate, which then is ultimately eaten up.”

“I think it’s part of their characters,” says De Bruyn. “They want to out-perform themselves. Nothing in life is a given, and the moment you think you’ve achieved what you wanted to achieve … they all told us that’s the moment where you start going downhill.”

But innovating doesn’t always mean more or bigger, she notes. “Sometimes it’s the other way round, going back to the very essence of food, something smaller that gives you space to be playful.”

The food and drinks service industry offers new arrivals particular opportunities. There’s likely a network of prior arrivals who have set up in business and can offer jobs in the short term and potentially investment in the longer term. There’s also the chance for the enterprising and creative types to make a mark. There may be a surfeit of gyros snack bars, but most other sorts of cuisine still have room for growth.

“These are very creative people,” De Bruyn says. “It sounds a bit of a cliché, but they all want to express themselves. So it’s a way of being creative, but it’s also a way of holding on to something from their roots. Very often it’s a question of pride and of keeping memories alive, of their childhood, of their mother or grandmother, of their home.”

Customers, too, are open to these cultural influences. If we are willing to eat food prepared by a stranger, we’re also willing to eat food from strange places prepared in strange ways.

“Our cuisine is a communal cuisine; it lends itself to sharing,” says Haile Abebe, owner of the Ethiopian restaurant Toukoul in central Brussels. “That means a certain level of refinement is not achievable. You won’t come across any oysters here because you can’t share an oyster. It’s a very conservative cuisine, with a great deal of respect for tradition, flavours and spices. If you want to innovate, you have to go about it very carefully.”

That balance of the creative and traditional can be comforting, De Bruyn points out. “Even in these very turbulent times, food is something that people can still understand,” she says. “We may suffer a fear of the unknown, but people tend to forget that when it comes to food of different origins. Food is one of the very few domains we’ve found where people just open up to all kinds of new influences, different flavours and manners and experiences, without any apprehension.”

Coincidentally, food was imported directly into De Bruyn’s home from far and wide. “My father was a captain on a cruise ship, and whenever he came home, he brought dried herbs or some kind of exotic ingredients,” she says. “So foreign food was something that was present during my youth. Then after my studies, I left Antwerp and went to live in Luxembourg, where I worked in a hotel with a gastronomic restaurant. That’s where I really picked up a love for food.”

And of course, there’s something in the whole enterprise for those who come to take part. “What’s the worst that could happen? I leave a lot to chance, but I’ve had a fantastic life for more than 30 years, with no two years the same,” says Food truck chef Mahesh Chandran. “If you can begin as I did to look after yourself early on, your self-confidence grows. The projects I’m working on now I know will be successful. I’ve never been super-rich, but I’ve never been super-poor. Life is pretty simple, and that’s good for me.”

Chefs’ picks

The book’s authors not only relate the personal stories of the chefs and owners they interviewed, they also pick their brains on our behalf. Each person was asked for tips on places to eat and drink, as well as where to find the best or the most sought-after ingredients. A sample from across Flanders and Brussels:

Vajra in Overijse. Recommended by Lhamo Svaluto of Tibetan dumpling bar Mo Mo in Brussels. “They’re one of my most important suppliers. They’ve been around for nearly 30 years, and they’re far and away the oldest and most reliable of the organic suppliers. They know their market extremely well, and can assist and advise.”

Jigger’s cocktail bar in Ghent. Recommended by Abe Taghdis of Uncle Babe’s burger restaurant in Ghent. “Fantastic surroundings, and a terrific barman who’s a master of his craft and doesn’t hesitate to try out new things.”

Hungarom in Brussels. Recommended by Joaquim Braz de Oliveira of Forcado pastry shop in Saint-Gilles, Brussels. “A fascinating shop, with fantastic products. Absolutely delicious sausages and Hungarian charcuterie. There’s always something new to discover.”

Ikebana in Berchem. Recommended by Ramazan Goktepe, owner of Turkish olive oil shop Ta-Ze in Ghent. “Simple, freshly prepared and delicious. I can imagine there might be more prestigious sushi houses around, but this is a place I like to come.”

El Sabor Andino in Antwerp. Recommended by Sandra Delgadillo-Porcel of Mama Matrea in Antwerp. “Peruvian cuisine and delicious Pisco, the Peruvian-Chilean grape brandy. And of course the ceviche is exactly as it should be. Unpretentious but delicious, with friendly service.”

Table d’Amis in Kortrijk. Recommended by Vilhjalmur Sigurdarson of Souvenir in Ypres. “A huge talent and a man who keeps going until the balance of flavours is absolutely right. I admire that.”

Melting Pot by Karin De Bruyn and Guido Everaert is published in Dutch by Luster
Photo: Lhamo Savuto of Mo Mo in Brussels, © Karin De Bruyn