The first time I see Andreas Viestad, he is standing on the Svalbard Archipelago. At roughly 80 degrees north, the Norwegian islands, he explains, are the northernmost inhabited place in the world. (About 2,800 people live here among the snow, ice and polar bears.) Behind Viestad looms the MS Origo, a cruise ship-cum-floating hotel that is frozen in the Arctic ice. Wearing a parka with enough goose down to stuff half a dozen duvets, he stands in his portable outdoor kitchen preparing Svalbard beet soup with goose stock (a heartier version of borscht) for an episode of his popular television show, New Scandinavian Cooking. Viestad gives a fascinating (if somewhat chilly) introduction of the recipe and the region, but I am just as happy to be watching from the comfort of my living room.

Until recently, my knowledge of Norwegian food was limited to the kind of meals a friend remembered from her childhood in Norway: “meat, potatoes and brown sauce.” But today, Scandinavian cuisine is known for its brash diversity and worldly finesse, and the Norwegian capital of Oslo has become a culinary centre.

So when I arrive in the so-called Viking Capital, I’m excited about my lunch with Viestad, Norway’s best-known food writer. A tall, handsome 32-year-old with neatly trimmed brown hair and sparkling blue eyes, he writes a popular newspaper column, “ Det beste jeg vet” (“My Favourites”). Viestad’s best-selling English-language book, Kitchen of Light, was a companion to his television show that aired for two seasons on public television in the U.S., as well as on networks in China, the U.K., Italy, Germany, South Africa and elsewhere. His next book, Hvordan Koke Vann ( How to Boil Water), was just published this fall in Norwegian and is due out later in English.

He greets me at the door of his apartment in St. Hanshaugen, an affluent neighbourhood on Oslo’s west side, and takes me to the kitchen. Its white walls are adorned with quirky touches, such as the photograph of Norway’s Queen Sonja eating a potato-pancake-wrapped hot dog. As the music of Paul Simon plays on the stereo, Viestad fastidiously whisks mayonnaise while a photographer takes pictures for the new book. After the mixture has emulsified and the moment captured, Viestad and I walk to nearby Pascal, the most recent location of the internationally acclaimed brasserie. The menu consists mainly of luxed-up brown-bag fare: salads and sandwiches. Viestad orders a salad of quintessentially Norwegian stockfish, baked vegetables, egg and potato, while I opt for the local halibut, sprinkled with cilantro and topped with mango chutney and yogurt.