Scents and sensibility

Kille Enna got acquainted with the life of a chef the hard way, and since then she has done it the animal way: by instinct. She’s not afraid of anything. Only of not daring.

Kille Enna doesn’t want to be disturbed.

She doesn’t mean to be arrogant, and it’s not that people aren’t welcome, either. But when she opens her doors to guests, it’s because she has invited them, because she has the energy to let people in and offer them what she has: food, feelings, and tall tales. She has travelled more than most, always on the hunt for aromas and flavours, and along the way she has discovered her mind and temperament are more southern Europe than the half German, half southern Jutland blood that runs in her veins.

“It’s all about feelings, emotions, Mille,” she says and gesticulates dramatically. She stands in the centre of the room and holds my gaze in a very demanding and rather un-Danish way, while revealing her habit of mentioning the name of the person she’s talking to, especially when making a point. And Kille makes a lot of points.

Nevertheless she has chosen a life away from the throng; she and her husband Morten have settled just outside the town of Ystad in Sweden, a place from which she can choose to take in the world in measured doses. One of their two houses is Kille’s laboratory and contains a professional kitchen surrounded by a garden with a large greenhouse. The other house is where they live. The fields around them are UNESCO protected and the road is theirs. A sign at the beginning of the road says ‘Private’, and should anybody stray this way, she politely asks them to turn around. It’s impressive, she thinks, that people are able to work in the company of others, of people yelling and shouting and swearing and being noisy. She herself would never be able to get anything done. So when she asks not to be disturbed, it’s not because she dislikes company, but rather because she’s like a piece of fly-paper catching any and all human vibrations.

“I need to cultivate my oddity to have a chance. I’m a lone rider,” she says.

Continue reading in Oak volume One