Faked Meat included not only making meatless versions of animal products, but inventing entirely imaginary meat-free animals like this "Biccio" sushi, made from a fish with multi-colored flesh.

Building upon the tradition of clay cooking for a project called Roots, Vogelzang encased root vegetables in the muds and clays they grow in and baked them into lumps that look almost like abstract sculptures. The clay shells are broken at the table to reveal the warm root inside, turning the diners into archaeologists.

The Photosynthesistree uses the energy and light from desk lamps to "bake" leaf-shaped dough biscuits, which are ready when they become crunchy and golden brown.

The knitted casings of the Cuddly Sausage hope to draw a connection between the fuzzy animals we hold and the fuzzy animals we eat.

Bits and Bytes was an installation that used a jawbreaker-like candy called "magic-balls" in Dutch. The balls work as a low tech conveyor belt, allowing the diners to pass plates of food among them. Guests were also encouraged to add small notes or other funny touches to the passing dishes.

At the Axis Gallery show, a wall of spoons contained bite-sized portions of various colorful (and unfamiliar) foods which invited people to sample them in an unorthodox way.

When Proef, Vogelzang’s restaurant, opened in its first location in Rotterdam, she asked each diner his birthday, and served them one of four "elemental" meals according to their astrological sign: Fire, water, earth, air.

A sharing dinner at the Axis Gallery in Tokyo required guests to dine wearing bib-like napkins which were suspended from the ceiling.

Veggie Bling Bling is an experiment to help kids try new foods. Giving them a strange plate of vegetables to eat doesn’t go over so well, but if you give them jicama and radishes and instruct them to make jewelry and glasses out it, kids are more likely to try it.

At the Connection Dinner for Droog, lamps were set up to "cook" a tablecloth made of dough the night before a dinner. For the dinner, bowls underneath are filled with soup and stew that steam the dough and make it soft and edible again, like bread for dipping. After the main course the bowls were removed to reveal a tablecloth made of pink sugar dough, served with caramelized fruits and nuts.


Marije Vogelzang Reinvents The Ritual Of Eating

Vogelzang's work is the opposite of the fussy molecular gastronomy: She isn't designing food, after all, but rather the experience around it.

"Eating design" is not a phrase we toss around here on Co.Design regularly. Designing dining environments, yes. Designing food preparation accessories, yes. But Dutch eating designer Marije Vogelzang would argue those all fall within her preferred field of expertise, as they examine the curious interaction between our hands, our mouths, and our stomachs. Vogelzang’s projects combine the taste of strange (or familiar) ingredients, the camaraderie of the dinner table, and the showmanship of the culinary arts. In essence, she gets people to play with their food.

Vogelzang’s work has included projects as diverse as creating installations that explore the role of lettuce in culture, to making gun lollipops to show sugar’s effect on your body, to catering special dinners with utensils ranging from spatulas to forceps. As the proprietor of the Amsterdam cafe Proef, Vogelzang serves local meats alongside organic produce much like her fellow restauranteurs, but has a knack for preparing and presenting food that’s anything but traditional.

Call her an artist, call her a designer--just don’t call her a chef. Vogelzang’s work isn’t designing food, after all, it’s designing the experience around it. In a way, it’s the opposite of the fussy, over-processed molecular gastronomy movement that’s sweeping culinary culture. Vogelzang’s eating design is far more elemental, more engaging, and more entertaining.

Here’s a sampling of some of her projects, see more at her website.

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