Is there a right time for an iconic restaurant to close? Kissa Castañeda muses on the art of saying goodbye
When chef Ferran Adrià announced that he was closing his celebrated restaurant El Bulli in 2010, it sent shockwaves across the food world. Was the master of molecular gastronomy, who came up with such ground-breaking and much-imitated dishes as the liquid olive, really bidding farewell? Journalists assembled think pieces to dissect the decision, diners scrambled to secure an already hard-to-get reservation, and chefs and industry folk pondered the future of fine dining.
But the reason was simple: Adrià said operating El Bulli at the same level wasn’t sustainable, and that he wanted to pursue a different direction by transforming it into a research lab and exhibition space. He was merely following his heart (and his gut)—which is exactly what resonated with the legions of food lovers and critics in the first place. In the competitive restaurant industry, what makes a chef stand out is honesty, not theatrics, and a fervent desire to pursue a philosophy.
Following Adrià’s reign was the climb to prominence of an El Bulli alumnus, chef René Redzepi, who fuelled the rise of New Nordic cuisine with his restaurant Noma. From 2010 to 2015, we witnessed his massive influence on the global gastronomic scene. He single-handedly helped transform Copenhagen into a dining mecca, shifted the conversation to locavorism and zero-waste cooking, encouraged chefs to try foraging, and added a certain warmth—hygge, if you will—to the fine-dining experience.
What transpired after years topping the lists was already somewhat expected—he temporarily closed Noma in 2016 and continued on a pop-up tour around the world. On February 16, Redzepi reopened the restaurant with a greater focus on seasonality and defined by a more casual flavour. It also has an urban farm.