Travel Diary
48 hours in Copenhagen
Thursday
The first thing we notice about Copenhagen is how clean and orderly it is. We buy tickets for the metro and can’t understand why there’s nowhere to scan them. We get onboard and still no one comes to check them. It seems that Denmark operates entirely on an honor system. Hopefully we can hold up our end of the bargain.
We arrive at our hotel near the city center around 2pm and drop our bags before heading back out. The concierge has suggested a few landmarks within walking distance so after a light lunch nearby, we try to go to the Design Museum, but find it locked up for the evening. That’s OK, probably too soon for an educational excursion anyways.
We continue walking past the museum and find ourselves by Kastellet, an old star-shaped fort around which we found the Little Mermaid sculpture in honor of native son, Hans Christian Andersen.
We’ve arrived in Copenhagen after 5 days on a wedding planning mission in Tuscany where the weather felt like a second summer. Copenhagen, on the other hand, has reached fall and is even giving us our first blasts of winter. After a long walk, we return to our hotel bar to warm up with a glass of wine and a game of rummy before dinner.
Iluka
The culinary theme for the weekend is seafood. It seems Copenhagen has not only embraced their seaside surroundings, but also perfected the consumption of them. Our first proper meal is at Iluka, where we split a tasting menu that includes seafood tartare and trout roe eaten like a taco in nori, oyster soup, and a whole plaice. We add soft-shell crab filled with a paste of herbs and seaweed which turns out to be the best dish of the night.
Stuffed, we skip the nightcap and head home to the warmth of our room instead.
Friday
We wake up mid-morning to a soft rain that will remain constant throughout the day. Though we’re in the birthplace of hygge, with limited time in the city we decide to get out there and make the most of it. After a cappuccino and the first of many tebirkes (a pastry with poppy seeds on top and remonce in the middle), we pass by the Rosenborg Castle on the way to Torvehallerne, an indoor food market. After perusing the gourmet foods, we continue on to Jægersborggade, a street we’re told is full of shops. Halfway there, we realize we’ve made the fatal mistake of not picking a lunch place before being overcome with hunger.
We make it, though by 2pm, most lunch service is done and we settle for eggs benedict and stracciatella on toast at a cafe. Jægersborggade is not the shopping mecca we’d been told it was so after said fortificiation, we decide to get out of the rain and take the metro to bird, the cocktail bar we’d foregone the night before. When in doubt, drink, (er, do) what you know.
We walk in the door to ambient jazz coming from the turntable and Julia orders a ristretto negroni made with coffee bean vermouth while I opt for “Roy went bananas,” an Islay whisky cocktail with a hint of banana and toasted almond bitter. As late afternoon progresses into evening, so, too, do the beats per minute of the music. With the rain finally slowing down, it’s time for dinner.
Donda
At its base, Donda’s menu isn’t terribly different from Iluka, but its Latin American inspiration sets it apart. After learning that one tasting menu was still too much food for two of us last night, we order a la carte:
What seems like a bottomless bowl of fried fjord shrimp
Hiramasa sashimi with yuzu vinaigrette and tomato
Grilled langoustine that we scoop out of the half shell and onto tortillas like butter
Baja fish tacos
Even better than the food is our server Erika who, based on her pronunciation of wine and spices, must speak at least 4 languages. After carefully explaining the menu, she volunteers her favorite spots around town, two of which we’ll visit tomorrow.
Digestivo
After Donda, we’re ready for some nightlife. We head to Blume which boasts a cocktail bar and a nightclub. We’re the oldest couple by far and upon sitting down at a table, we’re immediately joined by three Danes who say nothing to us as they slide tequila shots in front of us. 50 Cent’s “In Da Club” plays ominously in the background.
We’re a little speechless but decide this must also be part of the CPH honor system so we shoot our shots. After a few more minutes of awkwardness, one of the Danes asks me what exactly I do at PwC. I don’t understand. I’m on vacation from New York, I tell her. She does not understand. What do you do at the PwC office, she asks again. Professional services, I tell her. She doesn’t hear me and rips another tequila shot. Julia and I make eye contact, say goodnight, and slide out of the table.
It’s raining again, but we’re just happy to be out of there. We head to Ruby, a well-appointed and age appropriate cocktail bar with a charming staff. We have one drink for our health and head home through surprisingly quiet streets.
Saturday
Today we’re embracing the hygge. It’s a concept we’re familiar with, but when you’re there, in that weather and imagining the dwindling sunlight of full winter, we can understand why it’s a way of life.
After a leisurely breakfast we return to the food market to ostensibly collect some souvenirs, but also to get smørrebrød, an open-faced sandwich with all manner of toppings. We split one with smoked salmon and one with pickled beets, bacon, and liver pâté.
After a sleepy glass of wine, we do some minor sightseeing on foot and return to our hotel to read by the fire and doze.
Aperitivo
Though the lull of the fire is enchanting, we manage to pull ourselves away to visit a few of Erika’s recommendations before dinner. At Balderdash, we’re greeted by another incredibly outgoing staff who genuinely seem interested in us finding a good seat and a better drink. The highlight of the menu is the Mushroom Alexander: gin, chocolate, 3 kinds of mushroom, coconut cream, and topped with shaved deer heart. After a few similarly inventive rounds, we stop by Apero for a glass of wine in what can only be described as your most stylish friend’s living room.
Dinner is at Barabba because after 2 nights off, we’re ready for Italian again. I would never invite a strike of lightning by saying it was better than the dishes we had in Italy, but it’s a damn good imitation. For antipasti, we order pumpkin with waxed cheese, onion jus, and black truffle. For our mains, we order rabbit and apricot tortelli in an eel-smoked broth and spaghetti with colatura d’alici and caviar. Each bite is a symphony.
We are once again stuffed and leave the restaurant thinking about how lucky we are to see these sights, taste these delicacies, and still have a desire to get back to our real home.