Oslo should strive for greater inclusivity in its restaurants
Photo: Bistrot des Tournelles
The Norwegian author Nina Lykke expressed in Aftenposten some time ago that Oslo has become quite a provincial city. There is indeed some truth to this observation. The rise of the petty bourgeoisie is evident, and urban developers and architects are vying for attention regarding the city’s numerous initiatives. Whether this is a case of megalomania or simply intense competition is uncertain, but this struggle occasionally results in bankruptcies and lost jobs. However, it also brings forth new concepts and brands at a rapid pace. One could almost believe they are engaged in a marathon rather than urban development.
Might it be prudent to take a moment to consider time? To think about investment based on long-term sustainability? Perhaps focusing on a few locations at a time? After all, the city is alive, and growth can also occur organically. An urban enhancement should be inclusive, comprising both costly and cost-free elements. A blend of the extravagant and the humble is essential – balance is key. Even those areas that some have labelled as "ghettoised" possess their own charm. However, we must be cautious about referring to a worn area in Oslo as a ghetto.
Currently, the urban landscape is partially dominated by new establishments that often exude an aura that is not inviting to the majority. These venues tend to be expensive and ostentatious, and it would be beneficial to temper this somewhat. If today’s restaurants emanated a vibe that harmonised well with the people, nature, and plants, much might appear quite different.
It strikes me that Oslo lacks a culture of intimate and simple bistros – small restaurants with menus that are affordable. Such establishments are abundant in my second home, Paris. Occasionally, I feel drawn to that city, and I often browse websites and magazines to stay informed about its cultural scene, including its culinary offerings. I have a deep appreciation for neighbourhood bistros serving traditional French fare. I have never been among those who only dream of dining at Oslo's exorbitantly priced restaurants – I am not a socialist, yet I do occasionally find myself somewhat frustrated by the extravagance.
What I long for is the ability to hop on a bicycle or stroll down to a neighbourhood bistro with friends, family, or a partner, to slowly enjoy a tartare, perhaps flush with a hint of wine, while engaging in conversation about various topics – all without having to spend an exorbitant amount in one evening.
A case in point of a delightful bistro in Paris is Bistrot des Tournelles, located on Rue des Tournelles, in one of my favourite area, Le Marais. There, one can find happiness: the right lighting, an appropriately intimate size, old-fashioned charm, and a delicious meal of steak and fries accompanied by a lovely brown sauce. Most importantly, the bill does not deter one from returning. Perhaps there might even be a drink afterwards.There should certainly be limits to how ostentatious a restaurant should be. After all, restaurants are part of our culture and should be able to cater to a range of price points.
And let us not forget the significance of history. I would appreciate a waiter or bartender who shares stories of the restaurant owner’s travels to Greece, Lebanon, or Poland – that would be an additional bonus on the menu. There are far too many concept-driven restaurants in this city that lack a sense of history.
Oslo has every potential to become a culturally oriented and inclusive city, but this requires that menus offer something for the majority – in terms of food, atmosphere, and prices – rather than solely catering to the certain greedy and newly wealthy. They tend to consume too quickly and demand too much all at once.
Let the inclusive nature of restaurants be the essence – it could provide new nourishment for an inclusive city.