(Air) How much sky belongs to a plot of land? In Österlen, a corner in southeast Sweden where villages are named Gislövshammar, Brantevik, and Simrishamn, the answer is an infinite amount. No elevation or row of houses breaks the view of sky blue, cloudy white, and foggy gray. Strings of geese and other birds, seemingly twinkling in black, cross this flat land high up in the air, which only gently arches downward at the sea horizon.

This is where you’ll find Vyn, Daniel Berlin’s hotel and restaurant. Guests approach the property on farm tracks, only a few hundred meters from the beach, where jet-black, shiny wet stones glisten. If you attune your sense of smell, you’ll detect the wind carrying an unmistakable blend of sea air and damp earth from nearby pastures. Hardly any people are encountered here. On a clear day, the Danish island Bornholm is visible, framed by the large windows in the dining room at Vyn.

In the fall of 2023, Daniel Berlin opened a new chapter in this place, with Vyn being the most acclaimed new opening in Scandinavia. The years prior were characterized by stark contrasts of light and dark. His restaurant, Daniel Berlin Krog, also located in the Österlen region, had only recently been awarded two Michelin stars when his wife, Anna, fell ill with cancer. The chef closed his restaurant in 2020, and his wife subsequently passed away a few months later; their twins were still very young.

At Vyn, which Daniel Berlin runs together with sommelier Joakim Blomster, a traditional 18th-century farmhouse was extensively remodeled. The dichotomy between the bar area and the dining room couldn’t be starker in terms of air space. The first appetizers are served in the former barn, whose wooden roof beam structure high above the floor resembles a vaulted rib, shaping the room into a rustic cathedral. Here, you also have a clear view of the open kitchen helmed by Daniel Berlin and his team. The main courses of the menu are served in a former pigsty, a compact room with a concentrated atmosphere and a view of the Baltic Sea.

For Daniel Berlin, who describes himself as an irrevocable land dweller, the element of air is crucial. However, you only notice it when taking a look beyond the apparent. Unlike fire, water, or earth, air is invisible, after all. For one, there is his fondness for flying game. As a hunter himself, he is as knowledgeable about the habits of wild ducks as he is about the flying speed of ptarmigans or the modest flapping skills of plump partridges that are challenged by hunting dogs in the fields. Daniel Berlin reveals that he hunts wild birds several times a year. “I love serving birds, which is rather unusual for fine dining. Maybe a quail here or a pigeon there, but that’s about it. You really do have to know how to work with their meat.” He once served an entire bird menu, he recounts, including magpies, and the variety of flavors in the meat even extended to oyster dishes thanks to seafowl.

Air defines Daniel Berlin’s cuisine as well, from the method of dry-aging in cold air that is so essential to him, details such as fluffy whipped pheasant or mallard fat, to the exciting temperature contrasts for which he is so renowned. These require his dishes to be served to the guests as quickly as possible. Daniel Berlin deliberately does minimal garnishing. One well-known example is his signature dish, the “Hot and Cold Scallop”: it is a scallop that is served half raw, smooth and cool, and half caramelized and hot, with aromas of dill, apple, and sugar kelp. The contrast is created by placing a frozen metal plate on top of the scallop when it is cooked “and, very importantly, an ice-cold plate for serving.” Another is the hot plum cake in the shape of a Lego brick, on which an iced slice of butter is placed in the kitchen. On top of crushed ice sits a small bowl of fjord shrimp and ice-cold cream from Fjäll beef, also known as Swedish mountain cow, and three different types of plum in the form of fruit leather, fresh fruit, and soft jelly, as well as horseradish and plum seed oil.

Sommelier and business partner Joakim Blomster also works with air. He not only decants and aerates red wines or full-bodied white wines, but also champagne—provided the winemakers ask for it. Blomster is convinced that the soul of champagne or wine can only fully be sensed if the winemaker’s requests regarding aeration are honored.

No air, no music; and music not only plays a key role at Vyn, but it has always been important in Daniel Berlin’s life, too. “My father loved blues, and as a child, I saw B.B. King in Malmö. I used to play drums and bass. Nowadays, I’m dragging my children to Vivaldi concerts in churches, even if they want to leave after a few minutes.” He has never understood a silent restaurant, he says. “Silence can be good, and I like to listen to it consciously. But a restaurant has to be a happy place for me.” The sound design at Vyn is created by a studio in Malmö, and the dramaturgy of the playlist was meticulously developed together. Anyone walking towards the restaurant through the long, light-flooded corridor with a side view of the sea at 6 pm on the dot will be pushed by the uplifting sounds of Ennio Morricone’s L’estasi dell’oro and almost levitate. Later, as dusk falls, Gunnar Wiklund’s Minns Du Den Sommar and Richard Hawley’s There’s a Storm a Comin’ flood the room. “I want to give something to my guests in terms of music,” says Daniel Berlin, in addition to the senses of the eyes, mouth, and nose. And he means that quite literally, too. Upon request, guests receive a QR code with his playlist.