Tundra to Table: A Culinary Journey Through Greenland

There are meals that fill you—and meals that move you.

On a cool April evening, I stepped inside the AGO for an experience where the Arctic drifted in—not as abstraction, but as flavour, as story, as offering. Quark Expeditions, in partnership with Igapall, the Greenlandic Chef Collective, brought their celebrated Tundra to Table experience to land for the very first time. Normally reserved for voyagers aboard their polar expeditions, this meal—rooted in Inuit culture, history, and place—was reimagined for the heart of Toronto.

Chefs Iben Lange and Miki Siegstad welcomed guests with an invitation: “Through Greenlandic cuisine and the warmth of shared stories, we hope to give you a taste of our heritage.” What followed was a tasting menu rooted in tradition and peppered with innovation. We began with snowy crab and shrimp, delicately paired with smoked Greenlandic fish, finger lime, pickled shrimp, and a clear tomato consommé. It was a dish that tasted like cold tide and early light—precise, bracing, and pure.

Then came the main courses:

Charred deer loin, bold with juniper and grounded in braised leeks, chanterelles, and cloudberry purée. Poached char, bright with pickled mustard seeds and a beurre blanc cut with juniper oil—like a mountain stream on the tongue. And finally, braised rabbit, earthy and enveloping, tucked inside a crispy parcel, served with kale, caramelized onion, and pearl onions softened to sweetness.

Dessert was Palaannguit, a traditional Greenlandic snack reimagined: berry cream, Labrador tea and lemon ice, and burnt white chocolate. Sweet and sharp—it lingered like a story half told.

Ontario wines poured through the evening—Glooscap First Nation x Benjamin Bridge Rosé , “Mischief” from The Organized Crime vineyard and a moody Cabernet Merlot from Tawse—culminating in a final, smoky toast: Greenlandic Coffee, laced with whiskey, Kahlúa, Grand Marnier, and whipped cream.

Before we sat to eat, guests were guided through the AGO’s Kenojuak Ashevak and Luke Parnell exhibits, a prelude that stitched together image, land, and tradition. The meal that followed did the same, plate by plate. There was no pretense. No spectacle. Just deep respect—for the ingredients, for the hands that shaped them, and for the quiet power of food as cultural memory.