Umami isn’t a flavor you learn. It’s one you remember.
I was invited to host a dinner in a space designed by Sverre Fehn here in Norway. Four of us held the space with Bielke&Yang, Smau Arkitektur MATRE and myself. The rest unfolded together.
I opened with the fifth flavor. Umami, beyond sweet, salt, sour, and bitter. The flavor that makes Japanese food itself. I walked them through the geography.
The connection across the ocean. But naming umami isn’t understanding it.
Then I handed them a small cup of broth. The fifth flavor stripped to essence.
They tasted it and something shifted. Familiarity without recognition. The feeling of knowing something you never knew you knew.
What followed was six courses dinner. But the real moment had already happened when we all tasted the same cup and remembered something different. Something true.
I made the dinner. But we designed the experience. Food is the most direct way to make someone present. That's experiential design. When people step into a space held with intention, they become part of the story.
This doesn't happen every day. That's what we're building toward.
Photo: Bjarte Sandal