Local and seasonal ingredients, artfully put together.
Photo by author
The New Nordic cuisine movement, with its innovative approach to traditional ingredients and focus on ethical production, inspired a gastronomic shift. It also put Copenhagen, the capital of Denmark, firmly on the map as a formidable culinary capital.
The movement was guided by ideas from a manifesto prepared by Scandinavian chefs, including Claus Meyers and Rene Redzepi of the culinary landmark Noma. Noma, often ranked at the very top of the world’s best restaurant lists and a flagship of this philosophy, strived to re-create Scandinavia on a plate. Artful meals featuring foraged herbs and ingredients like Faroe Island shellfish, Greenland shrimp, beach dandelions, hay-smoked quail eggs, reindeer moss and ramsons (wild garlic) began to prevail. Ingredients, both seasonal and simple, fresh and sustainable, defined the meals that resulted. The accompanying service was characterised by poetic precision.
New Nordic food, based on the kitchen manifesto, began to flourish, especially in Copenhagen. Defined by a micro-seasonal, hyper-local approach, a dedication to foraging, conscious cultivation and an innovative style of cooking, a litany of acclaimed restaurants popped up, many distinguished with Michelin stars. In Copenhagen, the movement has continued to gain momentum, and now there is a sizeable number of cafés offering the fare of Nordic climes at more accessible prices.
The practice of urban farming and sourcing ingredients from one’s backyard or rooftop continues to thrive. Bygaard, an urban farm specialising in organic gourmet mushrooms, is a case in point. In climate-controlled containers, kilos of speciality mushrooms are grown for Europe’s top restaurants and sold directly to consumers all year round. Øens Have, a sprawling urban farm in the city, is replete with everything from vegetables to flowers to bees. Amid this oasis of green, a restaurant sits offering a true farm-to-table dining experience.
Alongside this New Nordic approach, the traditional Danish table continues to thrive as a hearty affair. A beloved feature at any conventional repast is frikadeller, or fried minced-meat balls, served with boiled potatoes and red cabbage. Another is sild (herring smoked, cured, pickled or fried). Smorrebrod, the Danish open sandwich that has now made its way around the world, is equally ubiquitous in its appeal. Upon a modest square of rye bread (which stays fresh longer than white) are heaped an overflow of delicious toppings. Mild cheese with peppers, smoked eel with watercress, pickled herring with capers — begin this seemingly endless list. It’s clear that the warm, gregarious Danes have appetites as hearty. Torvehallerne, one of the several gourmet food markets in Copenhagen, is peppered with small independent businesses that offer all permutations of delectables from oysters to cream puffs to crepes. It is here that I sample Stjerneskud, or Shooting Star. On a bed of buttered toast are piled fried fish, a mound of shrimp, sliced cucumber, caviar, garnished with dill and a twist of lemon, all slathered in sour cream dressing.
Peer into any baker’s window, even on the wintriest day, and a wonderland of baked confections reassures the eye. What we know as the “Danish pastry” is called wienerbrod here, and it translates literally to Viennese bread. Legend has it that a Danish baker moved to Austria in the 19th century, where he honed the art of creating this flaky, butter-laden confection, giving it its name. Another bakery staple is the kanelsnegle, or cinnamon snail, a sweet, buttery scroll laced with cinnamon.
To accompany all that eating, Danes enjoy a drink. To experience a native high, sample a shot of aquavit, a clear spirit produced from potatoes or grain and spiced with caraway seed. While a battalion of outstanding microbreweries abounds, it is infinitely worth popping into the Carlsberg brewery. Not least because the museum attached to the brewery is a lively, interactive gem that takes you through the history of the Jacobsen family. Note the timeless designs on the labels of the Carlsberg bottles. Pay heed also to the tremendous art collection that brewer Carl Jacobsen built up during his lifetime, a smattering of which can be seen here. Avoid sampling such a great quantity of beer at the tastings in these cellars that you neglect a look at the horse stables. These draught horses, once used to deliver beer around Copenhagen, formed an indispensable part of the business. Danes have a penchant for bold flavours. Aromatic cheese. Pickled vegetables. Herring. Liquorice. I buy a bag of salmiakki, a small black salted candy. Its sweet-salty taste profile stands apart from liquorice sampled elsewhere. With the discovery of yet another distinctive flavour in Copenhagen, I’m prompted to appreciate the preservation of the unique.
In finding more strawberries and asparagus on summer menus, or when I hear about foods being prepared with a greater emphasis on the preservation of their natural flavours, my heart gladdens. A little more thought in the kitchen, the curiosity to discover ingredients that lie around us, and a desire to produce food of outstanding quality can add nourishment to our lives.