Choosing to share at the height of power
Ebru Erke
Last week, I was in Copenhagen to attend the symposium organized by Rasmus Munk, chef of Alchemist — currently ranked the second best restaurant in the world by The 50 Best Restaurants list. For many, the fact that a restaurant and chef operating at the very peak of the global gastronomic stage — with reservation lists filled months in advance and every move watched internationally — would host such a gathering might appear to be a routine PR maneuver. To me, however, the opposite is true. At that level of visibility, calling for “more dialogue” instead of “more spectacle” was a conscious, strategic choice.
What Alchemist and Rasmus Munk achieved through Convergence was precisely this: Transforming power into a platform rather than displaying it in a showcase. Even the event’s name reflects this intent. “Convergence,” in its literal sense, signifies separate streams of ideas and people meeting at a common point. Those familiar with our gastronomic world know well that it suffers from severe polarization, fragmentation and exclusion. In a landscape dominated by these tendencies, the attempt to reposition gastronomy as a shared language strikes me as profoundly well-intentioned. In the fine dining world, success often means retreating into a quiet summit. With this move, the attention that comes with being at the top was deliberately redirected toward a collective space — a reflex rarely seen in gastronomy.
The dinners held over five days, with the participation of more than sixty chefs, were undoubtedly impressive. Unfortunately, having decided to attend at the last minute, securing a seat was impossible, as only fifty fortunate guests were served each evening. While I could not participate in the dinners, from what I observed, culinary techniques, product philosophies and aesthetic languages from different geographies were layered upon one another within Alchemist’s theatrical setting. The resulting picture was not merely “good food,” but something that settled in the mind as cultural exchange.
Yet the true strength of Convergence was felt beyond the plates — in the lecture halls and behind the corridors. The auditorium hosting the symposium was filled to capacity, and the predominance of gastronomy students and young chefs was striking. During coffee breaks, the opportunity to engage directly with chefs they admired was invaluable. The decision to conclude the talks with a live classical music performance on stage was, in my view, a remarkable gesture. Among the speakers were Anne-Claire Yemsi Paillissé of France, known for her academic work in food studies; Rodolfo Guzmán, founder of Boragó, who carries Chile’s nature and indigenous knowledge onto the global fine dining stage; Josh Niland, chef of Saint Peter, whose approach to seafood has nearly created a new paradigm in the field; and Jessica Rosval, culinary leader of Al Gatto Verde in Modena, who places sustainable practice at the center of her kitchen.
On the Convergence stage, the question “Is gastronomy an art?” was elevated directly to the level of cultural policy. Denmark’s Minister of Culture, Jakob Engel-Schmidt, announced that they would examine whether gastronomy could be officially recognized as an art form. The trajectory of Nordic cuisine in recent years is well known — from kitchens functioning as fermentation laboratories to plates resembling works of art. At the heart of the artistic debate stood the perspective long advocated by Alchemist’s founder, Rasmus Munk: According to him, food becomes art not only through technical mastery, but through intention, context, narrative and transformative power. Those who follow his work know that many of his dishes carry a social message. Munk argues that gastronomy’s continued framing largely within the boundaries of “craft” and “commercial production” restricts creative chefs’ capacity for research, risk-taking and interdisciplinary creation. He reads recognition as art, not as a badge of prestige, but as a deeper field of freedom — ground on which chefs may produce not only more ambitious dishes, but bolder ideas. This perspective also explains why Alchemist operates not merely as a restaurant, but as a laboratory of thought and how it has positioned itself at the very summit of the world.
In terms of content quality, the symposium sessions left a lingering impression. At a platform of this scale, one inevitably wishes to see more speakers, more opposing viewpoints and greater interdisciplinary exchange. Nevertheless, Convergence was an important beginning. Because it reminded us of this: Being at the summit is not only about climbing higher; sometimes it also requires looking down and extending a hand. If the future of gastronomy is to be shaped not only on starred plates but through shared ideas, then this direction is the right one. The challenge now is to transform that direction into a structure that is more open, more accessible and more enduring.