Umea Food Symposium

In Sweden's Arctic Circle: the world's food writers gathered; installment 2 of 4

The Umea Food Symposium was, as always with Gourmand Cookbook Awards and gatherings, a combination of delicious, uplifting, poignant, fascinating—and sometimes unexpected—discoveries. Its always a surprise, and its always an enriching one. So many things in my life I never would have done without Gourmand gatherings (if i started listing and describing, it would become its own newsletter. So: another time)

But first: I can’t emphasize how much having my memoir manuscript nomination meant to me.

I’ve written cookbook after cookbook throughout my career, many of them award winning. What I loved was the process: a theme, developing creating flavours and scents around that theme/country/culture, concocting dishes to evoke memories, embue delight, bring great pleasure, share knowledge and information. It was like having a dinner party and giving each guest the ability to re-create the dishes on their own tables. At least that had always been the goal I worked towards, and oh how I loved it!

This time, though: I faced the emptiness of missing or disorted smell and taste—how could I find a way back to the world? The memoir tells this story: how I coped (or didn’t), how I coaxed back my smell and taste (which DID return, to a degree, and erratically, and its only taken me 11 years so far). What worked, what didn’t, and lots of recipes which I hope will stimulate and please. As they did me.

So, please forgive my immodest proclamation, but: I won! I won! I won! Here I am with the founder of the awards, the visionary Edouard Cointreau; he is making the announcement, I am gleefully showing off my certificate, with both smiles and tears on my face.

(Photo by Jean-Yves Bardin)

When I went back to my seat, I rested my prized award certificate on top of my (also prized) green polkadot handbag (on the floor in front of my feet).

And watched the parade of others awards and presentations.

Ulrica Soderlind spoke about cooking and eating within the multi-religion community/ies of Jerusalem, the subject of her book which won Best in World. Ursula is one of those rare academics who pursues fascinating topics with energy, honesty, fueled by her own curiosity, then writes about it so engagingly, the books read like novels. Another of her award-winning books (in English) is a (fascinating culinary history of the Nobel Banquets from her vantage point of being both a scholar, and having worked as a chef on the actual banquets)

We had a presentation on the Sami, indigenous people of the North. Nomadic reindeer herders, who roam free of borders, between Sweden, Finland, Norway and Russia.

Chicken A to Z is the new book from our very dear “Chicken Lady”, Mirielle Sanchez. She lives in Provence, her recipes are like a luscious dream. If I were a chicken, I’d want to jump into Mirielle’s pot! #lepouletvoyager

Though they didn’t make it to Umea, Prince Charles and Camilla were recently in Newfoundland, and picked up a copy of “Food, Culture, Place”, a top finalist in the category of Food Heritage. Here is the photo (originally published in The Daily Mail). You can see the Gourmand Award Sticker on it!

Onstage, with our certificates: Alicia Maher for her book Delicious El Salvador; yours truly; Nimi Sunilkumar for Lip Smacking Food of Kerala; and Ulrica Soderlind, Phd. Each of us so passionate about what we communicate/write about.

One night in a little cottage inside a little park, we gathered for ice cream, made of fresh foraged berries; instead of a crisp sweet (usual) cone, this one was made of birch bark. Birch is the reason one sees the word, Bjork all over Umea: Bjork means birch, the trees are practically synonymous with the city. Eating birch bark saved the population through poverty and family. Its strong tasting and odd, and is mainly eaten to remind people of the past and connect to it, though its syrup is used as flavorings in many delicious things, almost like maple syrup.

A particularly poignant presentation was given by illustrator Sarah Dillard, regarding the motive for writing her Children’s book, Blueberry Cake. She touched everyone’s heart, and especially mine, as she described as the importance of smell and memory, love and remembrance. And the illustrations are to fall in love with.

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And, of course, we had a cheese party! Vasterbotten, the local cheese of renown; here an opened half round; grab a chunk and nibble!

Rambling around the streets of little Umea, you would see fellow symposiasts enjoying and discovering. French chef, Cyril Prevost, the face of Masterchef France, among other things (such as cooking for the G7, Meghan and Harry, etc) was making a video of the Symposium, the Awards, the town. He was heading for the ice cream truck parked nearby.

Heading out of the Folket Jus where the symposium was held, Edouard Cointreau, Jr (son of Sr), was smiling, as he headed into the the town, saying: “Everyone here is adorable” (the most perfect description, oh they were!).

Not sure anyone got much sleep; the sun never fully set; I began to feel giddy with sleep deprivation. This photo was taken in my room at 2 a.m.

Eye masks for sleeping help (below photo).

There are always elements of impromptu magic at Gourmand; one never knows when and how it will happen. This time it was a showing of honor for Edouard Cointreau. for creating such an idiosyncratic, fabulous, and for many, life-changing event.

As he proclaimed the gathering over (for now, until the next time), applause broke out and grew, the whole audience rising from their seats for an (unprecedented) standing ovation, an enthusiastic, thundering mixture of clapping and more clapping, and…more clapping.

While everyone was standing and energetically applauding with all their heart, I thought: its like they never want to sit down again, they just want to continue heaping applause, love and appreciation on Monsieur Cointreau. We have all been through so much these dark pandemic years, Edouard especially so. For many of us, belonging to “the Gourmand Family” (membership meaning simply coming to an event and feeling warmly and supportive towards each other) was something that kept us going during this time. The standing ovation was a thing of beauty, a show of survival, family, creating something meaningful, and most of all, of thanks.