Words by Marcelo Jaimes Lukes
Photography by Sacha Maric
Mads Refslund wanted to be a writer. His high school teacher told him that wouldn’t happen. “He told me that writers need to sit still,” chuckles Refslund. “I couldn’t do that.”
Three decades later—and 4,000 miles away from his high school—some things haven’t changed. He crushes the wax from a nearby candle and spreads it on the table. Refslund then looks down at his powdered creation. “I need to use my hands at all times.”
Upon his teacher’s suggestion that he pursue a craft, Refslund started working in a restaurant kitchen as a school internship. “I’ve never looked back.” He rocks on his stool and pauses to reflect. “Wow, this is the first time I’ve considered that. I’ve only ever worked in a kitchen.” He laughs. “Thirty fucking years.”
Since opening to much acclaim in 2023 on a quiet block in Greenpoint, Ilis has cemented itself as a departure from the foam and tweezer foods that often define chefs of Refslund’s caliber. Adamant that he’s not trying to codify a genre, he shares that maintaining a menu of static dishes often burdens his peers. “I’m always chasing what’s most delicious,” he says. “And I never want to be put in a box.”
He’s quick to add that crafting truly exceptional food is a dance between meticulousness and experimentation. “Precision is crucial. But thinking differently is what sets you apart.”
The precise and vibrant menu at Ilis is in constant flux, shaped by the constraints and immediacies of the natural world. “When you work with seasons, you’re reacting—not planning,” he says matter-of-factly. I ask him to clarify—aren’t there ways to anticipate what’s coming next? He shakes his head. “It’s different every year. Let me give you an example: bamboo shoots are around for less than two weeks. We can’t test them beforehand.”
As a result, the tender stalks appear on the menu for a few days—grilled over the wood fire—only to disappear into buckets to ferment for the coming months. “We’ll see them again next year,” Refslund says, as though bidding farewell to an old friend.
COOKING FOR NEW YORK
Refslund doesn’t call his food Nordic cuisine, though many try to. As the co-founder of Noma, he’s been tied to the Nordisk Mad—Nordic food—of it all, but shrugs off the association.
“I wasn’t trying to do Nordic food,” he says of his early days in New York. He explains that the crispy salmon skin beloved by diners at ACME wasn’t inspired by Danish cuisine, but rather because Refslund had access to eye-watering quantities of excellent salmon skin from the iconic Bond Street Sushi, just down the block.
“At Ilis, it still isn’t Nordic.” Refslund raises his arms and gestures out the window. “Look around. We’re in New York. We’re in Brooklyn.” That’s not to deny his formative years in Denmark, he clarifies. “Of course, I’m from Denmark, and that cooking is in my DNA. But I’m inspired by New York, by Japan, by Mexico.”
Dressed in all-black and set against the exposed brick wall, it’s clear that Refslund is now, first and foremost, a New York chef. I ask him if that’s what he’d call himself. “Look, I’m not in Denmark anymore,” he says. “I cook for New York. Sometimes my food has a Danish inspiration, but mostly, I cook what I like to eat.”
What Refslund likes to eat is messy. It’s food you can savor from your fingertips.
“One of my favorite dishes on our menu is the smoked eel,” he says with a grin. “My dad would make it when I was growing up. He’d roll it in flour and then pan-fry it. We’d sit together and pick it apart with our hands.”
Refslund's favorite foods still don’t require utensils. He tells me that he gets bored at half-day tasting menus, and scoffs at gilded flatware and white tablecloths. “I’m happiest when I eat on the street hunched over a plate.”
“Food should make you stop for a second”
At Ilis, guests hardly eat on the sidewalk. Instead, they dine in a former rubber warehouse transformed into an open kitchen that’s both palatial and moody, adorned with art sourced from the Farschou gallery next door. As guests enter, they walk past a gargantuan Ai Weiwei zodiac rooster and gaze at chefs working diligently in a dark space that’s capped by a floating white structure the chefs call “the cloud.”
Refslund philosophizes as he breaks down a loin of aged tuna. “You should be close to food. Never distant.”
Refslund doesn’t mean that metaphorically. His guests engage with their food directly—squeezing the umami-rich guts of a tomato onto a briny oyster before bringing the shell to their lips. They look a squid in the eye, only to cut into it and realize that its “tentacles” are actually a chili-brined cabbage.
“Food shouldn’t be good just because of the setting. It should be good wherever.”
FIRE AND ICE IN BROOKLYN
Now in his second year at the helm of the open kitchen at Ilis, Refslund continues to evolve. A new menu format kicking off in September 2025 offers guests a choice between a focused seasonal menu and an omakase-style experience showcasing ingredients from across North America.
Refslund tells me that night after night, what he’s really aiming for is to pique his guests’ curiosity. Not novelty for novelty’s sake—though a seafood boil served in a pig spleen is certainly out of the ordinary. No, the chef wants Ilis to be the setting for the raw, instinctive response when a bite makes your mouth water. “I want them salivating,” he says. “Not just for flavors they’ve never had, but flavors they’ve never had together.”
What Refslund is after is the jolt of surprise that can only happen once. “Food should make you stop for a second,” he says with a smirk. “You should get a little messy. And then you should wonder.”
ILIS
150 Green St,
Brooklyn, NY 11222