Toronto-native, Copenhagen-based David Zilber describes himself as a chef, fermenter and food scientist. While serving as the Head of Fermentation at Noma, a restaurant that repeatedly tops “world’s best” lists, he co-authored the New York Times bestseller and oft-named best cookbook of the year The Noma Guide to Fermentation with head chef René Redzepi. With a series of all things best under his belt, the trained chef moved on to join forces with the bioscience company Chr. Hansen. All the while, Zilber has appeared as a judge on Top Chef Canada, given style notes (Issey Miyake suits, Lemaire polos) to W Magazine and travel advice (plan hard for the solar eclipse) to T: The New York Times Style Magazine and participated in the Venice Biennale. On Instagram, he shares tantalizing images of food—think trout roe beurre blanc and boiled chicken pho ga—alongside book recommendations and on an adjacent account, photos shot on 35-millimeter film. He charges his followers not only to be mindful about what they eat but also what they surround themselves with generally. “Everything feels disposable these days,” he muses. “People want to build and acquire, but no one wants to maintain.” Here are a few of his favorite things.

Dasha Pelsen Print

For years, the Russian artist Dasha Pelsen has been making amazing artworks with agar, bacteria and molds. When she was just starting out, she sent me some to decorate the fermentation lab I ran back at Noma. I wanted to continue to weave her visual thread through to my new space at Chr. Hansen, where I develop recipes and experiment in fermentation food science. Her works are otherworldly. At times, they look like Landsat images or vistas of alien landscapes, but they also help to remind me that science and art aren’t somehow opposed. They feed into each other, in continual discourse. They are, in fact, both creative, highly inspiring endeavors.

Henckels Chef’s Knife

I bought this knife, my first, with a $300 government tools loan for new tradespeople when I was 18, almost 20 years ago now. I was still in high school at the time and doing an apprenticeship program with a pan-Asian restaurant in downtown Toronto. I was so excited to buy it. It felt so real—like I had entered a profession that would nurture me as long as I nurtured it. I kept it sharp and clean and tucked away safe in its drawer. My father, an aircraft engineer, once took me on a tour of the Boeing manufacturing floor. There, I saw an older mechanic’s big red tool chest with a giant label on it that read, “Please don’t ask to borrow my tools. My tools are my life.” I went up to him and asked about it, and he told me that if everyone on the floor was responsible for their own tools, there would be no bad craftsmen. That really stuck with me. Don’t blame your tools for your mistakes. And don’t shirk their maintenance onto others. The buck stops with you. That’s why this knife is worn to the bone, all its branding buffed off, its shape whittled away having been sharpened every week for years. The handle is scuffed, and it is by no means pretty. But it’s sharp. And it’s mine. And I’ll hand it down to my child to instill those same values in him when he’s old enough. Because things should last.

Brother P-Touch Label Maker

As creative, left field or eclectic as I may be, I’m also extremely pragmatic. I come from rigorous kitchens—places that run like clockwork and brigades that move in lock step. Organization is key, which is why I have my trusty label maker to help me arrange my kitchen. Everything needs to be clearly labeled and kept neat and tidy. Because an organized space facilitates an organized mind. In my opinion, an organized mind is much more effective than a cluttered one at being creative and put to work.

Onggi by Adam Field

My first onggi was made by Adam Field of Helena, Montana. He’s a master ceramicist crafting traditional Korean fermentation vessels. I use this for kimchi, doengang, misos—all of it. New, shiny things are great and all, but it’s just as fantastic to get in touch with the traditions that keep themselves alive generation after generation.

Marcus Aurelius Bust

I purchased this sculpture from a small artisan’s shop on the Greek Island of Antiparos. I had read Aurelius’ Meditations earlier that year and wanted a little reminder with me when at work: “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.”

OBJECT LESSON IS A FEATURE IN WHICH WE TAKE A MAGNIFYING GLASS TO CREATIVE'S MOST PRIZED PERSONAL POSSESSIONS. ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE CREATIVE VOYAGE PAPER, ISSUE 5 →