Emile van der Staak (Sint-Michielsgestel, 1976) is a chef with a mission: to change food culture as an initiative against climate change and loss of biodiversity. That's why he cooks with plants and vegetables that he sources from the food forest. With success: last year, De Nieuwe Winkel was named the second best vegetable restaurant in the world. And since last May 30, a second Michelin star hangs on the facade. MASTERS sought out Emile.
"Through the oldest shopping street in the Netherlands, we set out on foot in search of De Nieuwe Winkel. We walk past façades from the seventeenth century, an originally medieval city castle that now houses a hotel, and Anton Pieck-like stores such as Het Theeza(ak)je, a barbershop with guitars on the wall (the barber is also a musician) and liquor store Schavuit & Co, where you can not only go for genuine Nijmegen beers like Oersoep, but also for tattoos or a haircut. You can't imagine a nicer route to the restaurant. By the way, that location goes even further back in time: the restaurant is in fact the oldest core of a former orphanage, with an entrance dating back to the fourteenth century. Within its walls, however, the main focus is on the future: how can we change the way we eat and grow food in such a way as to reduce our impact on the environment? Emile van der Staak has set himself this mission. He leads me into the test kitchen, where experiments are being conducted with plants sourced from food forest Ketelbroek in nearby Groesbeek. In the room is a large, long table surrounded by chairs by Maarten Baas and above it a gigantic chandelier by Ward van Gemert of design firm Nightshop Rotterdam.
We take a seat and, behind a glass of homemade juice, Emile talks about the origins of his passion. "We used to have a vegetable garden at home and then you naturally start to understand how seasons are related to yields and what you can eat beyond what dominates the supermarket shelves. When I was fourteen I had a part-time job in a kitchen. I did that purely to earn some money and also out of a kind of boredom: I had to do something, right? It's that a friend of mine was already doing that job, that's how I got into it. I started in the kitchen sink and after a few months I was allowed to prepare the sandwiches. That was a milestone. I had fun doing it and continued to do so while studying Civil Engineering. Eventually it turned out that I was better at that part-time job than at my studies. I wasn't necessarily more interested in it, but it came easily to me and things that come easily are fun to do. My parents were definitely not with me. My mother comes from a hospitality family: her father owned several hospitality businesses in the postwar years, and the story goes that my grandfather died as a result of the stress and hard work. 'It's all fine what you're going to do as long as you don't work in the hospitality industry,' my mother always instilled in me. It's also a bit of 'not in the cookie jar!' On the day of my exam, I dropped out of college, so I never got the degree. I had a moment of insight and walked out of the exam room. And now I'm going to be a chef, I imagined. I had no idea what it was, haha. It was a decision motivated by naivete. "
Revelation
It was a matter of course that Emile took the cooking course. He completed that in a year and a half. "Officially it can't be done, I sabotaged things a bit. The teachers also saw that the theory in particular was not at the level I was used to - it irritated me and so I asked critical questions. They wanted to get rid of this agitation and suggested that they accompany me outside the school towards my exam and make sure that the administration behind the scenes was in order. We shook hands and I didn't go back. Miraculously, I passed that exam and had all the papers. But I couldn't actually do anything at all, had to learn everything after that. As a result of speaking a little easily, I got in here and there. So I applied to Nico Ladenis, who was cooking three stars in London. I was hired and traveled to London. He would arrange room and board, but it was just a hotel, so after two weeks I ran out of all my money. On a friend's credit card I just barely managed to buy a ticket to come back, haha. Still, I have fond memories of it. Because it's a refreshing experience to sell your stuff in Holland and leave for London with two suitcases." He was also hired by Paul Fagel, who would prove to be an important teacher for him: it was through him that he really understood exactly what the cooking profession entailed. "Until then, I had just been hobbling around. Paul Fagel is of course a grand master, with a large brigade, various parties and a cuisine based on the classic French style. That was a revelation to me! I gained a lot of experience there and caught up considerably. When I was told to plicate tomatoes the next day, I looked up what that meant at home at night - I had no idea! That's partly how I bluffed my way through. I was eager to learn, motivated and worked incredibly hard there. In that kitchen, under those conditions, with so many professionals around you ... So much energy was released there that I bluffed my way through. Paul Fagel noticed that too, which allowed me to make very quick strides in his kitchen team."
Frozen steaks
After Paul Fagel, he ended up in the kitchen of Comme Chez Soi in Brussels and La Rive at the Amstel Hotel. "That all came about by chance, there was no plan behind it. Looking back on it, I had a heavily classical education when it comes to gastronomy. The other day we had the chief Michelin inspector over for dinner and he also wanted to know where I had worked. He didn't fall off his chair, but he didn't understand a thing. I was trained at the most classical end of the spectrum and what I do now is at the most innovative end. But I still apply many of the preparations I learned there. I still use the parsley coulis from Comme Chez Soi. And so one does still have to do with the other." When Emile had enough manual dexterity and self-confidence, he started looking into starting his own restaurant. "That whole process from 'I'm going to do that' to opening still took six years. In 2006 I was in Nijmegen for the first time and bought a house right away, with the idea of starting a restaurant there. I thought: that will be settled within six months. But it wasn't. Meanwhile I had to earn some money, so I worked on the Waalkade and other places. You can guess what kind of catering establishment is located there: frozen steaks and salmon. In retrospect, that was an important phase anyway, because it was when I broke free from the beliefs associated with top gastronomy, for example concerning the use of luxury products. Had I started a restaurant the day I landed in Nijmegen, it would have been one in line with what I had learned, with turbot and lobster. Because I spent five or six years working in all sorts of places just to make some money, I became completely detached from that world. Unintentionally, I took time out to choose a different approach."
Fewer animals, more plants
What was also a factor that forced him to that other avenue of approach was the 2008 banking crisis. "As a result, everything collapsed and you could no longer go to the bank for a loan to start a restaurant. All that together made me realize that I had to make do with minimal budgets and could no longer use luxury products because those prices were no longer justifiable. That's how the "bistronomy" was born, an idea inspired by something I had seen in Paris: young chefs, early in their careers, take matters into their own hands, buy an old bistro, cook a very limited selection, put all their attention into that small menu, and that way they can also charge reasonable prices. That whole cocktail of elements, prompted by the banking crisis, inspired by what I had seen in Paris, made bistronomy in the Netherlands. We were the first in that. For 25,000 euros I took over an old bistro in Hertogstraat and with a minimal investment of 90,000 euros, some second-hand stuff and the necessary arts and crafts we were able to start a little restaurant. I started working with products with a lower price, but that didn't mean they had a lower value. Value and status I started to separate completely. We also chose one menu so we didn't need a lot of staff and put all our expertise and know-how into it. It was an interesting mix of elements that produced a revenue model that was realistic." Even then, Emile placed a great deal of emphasis on the use of vegetables because of the realization that no more than 20 percent meat is better for humanity and the environment. "That started with the simple observation that if you put an endangered species on the menu, it doesn't make the world a better place. Later you start reading more and learning about how our diet is related to the climate crisis and the decline of biodiversity. Along that 11-year process, that story of content has deepened and behavior has also continued to change - each time based on new insights. And then you gradually arrive at the route of fewer animals and more plants."
MASTERS MAGAZINE
Want to read more of the interview with Emile van der Staak? In the summer edition of MASTERS, an interview with Sven Kramer, a driving impression of the Bugatti Chiron Super Sport and an examination of Max's Effect. But above all, it features people who bring light into the darkness. Like Henk Jan Beltman, who took over Tony's Chocolonely because with a business you can make the world a more beautiful place. Chef Emile van der Staak, who has the ambition to change our food culture and therefore cooks with plants and vegetables sourced from the food forest. Designer Nienke Hoogvliet, who has introduced natural seaweed paint as an alternative to harmful textile dyes. And Anna Nooshin, who denounces the current social media culture of pretty pictures. In her documentary, she also shares the less beautiful aspects of her life. All of them people who ask questions, present mirrors, make steps. Steps toward a healthier world and more understanding society.
MASTERS #50
