Ola
For most of my professional life, I have worked with illustration, animation, and education. But it wasn’t until I was confronted with life’s most fundamental needs for survival that my focus shifted toward something entirely different. During a prolonged legal process and the financial uncertainty that followed, I began to seriously explore what nature actually has to offer – especially in times of hardship.
It was during the extreme drought of 2018, when climate anxiety, legal struggles, and existential questions all converged, that I first began to look more closely at acorns. What I had been told since childhood never to put in my mouth soon became a source of food, meaning, and resilience. It has taken me years to understand acorns as food. They are neither fast food nor something you simply pick up from a store shelf – but they are a crop that is free, accessible, and deeply rooted in human cultural history.
I know how demanding it can be to change one’s way of living – I didn’t really have a choice. Cooking from scratch, preserving, baking bread, or working with wild ingredients requires time, energy, and familiarity – resources that many people today have too little of. Sustainability is often discussed as if everyone stood in the same place in life, with the same tools at hand. But reality is rarely like that. For me, it is not about romanticizing the wild, but about making it practical, tangible, and accessible.
Over the years, I have used acorns as a base in more than fifty different recipes – from noodles and burgers to drinks and baked goods. I have experimented with techniques, refined preparation methods, and explored both nutritional values and how acorns are affected by environmental pollutants. I have given lectures, held workshops and small annual acorn festivals, and built networks around knowledge-sharing and hands-on learning. Gradually, it has grown into something more than an interest: a vision.
I see acorns as a possible complement in the future food system – not as the next green trend, but as an ancient staple with untapped potential. They require no machinery, no irrigation, and no agricultural land. Acorns already grow all around us, on trees that store carbon, support biodiversity, and produce for decades. This is not about replacing agriculture, but about broadening the foundation of how we sustain ourselves. It requires neither major investments nor new technologies – only patience, curiosity, and a willingness to relearn what we once knew.
But for me, it is not only about the fruit itself – it is about the tree, time, and trust. The oak reminds us to think long-term, to build for generations rather than for the next quarter. Understanding the process – from inedible raw material to edible food – has become, for me, a way of reclaiming agency in a time when much else feels uncertain. It is there, in the meeting between the wild and the everyday, that my vision of a new food culture begins to take shape.
Through Under the Oaks, I want to contribute to an alternative conversation about the future of food – one where the wild, the slow, and the historically rooted are given space.







