A Weekend in Copenhaguen and an Evening in Noma
An extravagant thought-provoking trip organized around a dining experince to the soon-closing “best restaurant in the world”
About 2 years ago, while I was studying my Master’s in Food Journalism in San Sebastián (Spain), The New York Times announced the closing of Noma, the many times called “best restaurant in the world”. The news blew like a bomb in the gastronomic world and we talked about it extensely inside the classroom.
Three weeks later, I was in Copenhaguen visiting some friends, a trip my husband Ross and I had planned previous to the announcement. After wandering around Christiania, we walked to the restaurant, which was still running but closed until dinner service. I was hyped by the news cycle and wanted to see it in person, even if —I though— would never get to dine there. The exterior schocked me as there was no restaurant to be seen from the street. Only an elongated greenhouse by the water. It created a feeling of mystery, of an elevated Hagrid’s cabin.
I actually got to explore the greenhouse and beyond only a month ago, in the most extravagant weekend of my life.
René Redzepi told The New York Times the restaurant would close for regular service at the end of 2024. It actually didn’t as it was extended for one more season, this current one. When Nicholas, our friend who lives in the city and is quite the foodie, heard the news, he tried his best tricks to get a table. “We won’t have a chance to get a reservation for two or even four, but we could get lucky if we book for 6”. So last November we had to commit to be in Copenhaguen by mid-April, when he called excited to say he had gotten us in.
We had never booked a trip solely to dine in a specific restaurant. But after paying for the meal to ensure the table, we were fully aware that was happening. Our lives started to turn around that reservation, which made us push to close on the house we bought 3 weeks earlier than expected and rush workers to finish renovations just in time for the trip.
The evening was promised to be extravagant but to cut on some costs, Ross managed a business visit to Europe and I also left Boston some days earlier to go to Spain and visit family on the way. Thankfully, our accomodation in Copenhaguen was also guaranteed, as Nicholas and Tanja welcomed us to their lovely house.
Exploring Copenhaguen’s design and food scene
I have only been to the Danish capital twice, but every time I leave inspired. It’s green, social and it has a fantastic sense of design and craftmanship.
Ross and I flew seperately and met in Copenhaguen airport on a Thursday evening. Thankfully, our jet-lag was much more under control, by having adjusted to European times some days before. The big event was the following day, so we made sure to be prepared.
On Friday morning we went downtown by ourselves, while Nicholas and Tanja finished their woorking week. We didn’t need to sightsee, but our intend was to find some nice things to take to our new house.
My favorite place for that is Illums Bolinghus, a mall only dedicated to national designers that has different sections (kitchen, furniture, lamps, textile, decoration…) with items to inspire. I bought some nice kitchen towels and two beautiful USB charged lamps to take home.
Another favorite of the city is TorvehallerneKBH, a fresh produce and eat-in market that shows the bountifulness of Danish food. Tidy, elegant and exciting, all at the same time.
Ross and I queued to get a smørrebrød for lunch. Also called “an open-faced sandwitch”, smørrebrød is a slice of buttered rye bread generously topped with various ingredients such as cold cuts, meat, fish, prawns, pickles, spreads and lots of garnishes. I chose roastbeef (with piccalilli, fried onions, pickled cucumber and horseradish) and salmon salad (with smoked salmon, crème fraiche, mayonnaise, onions, capers, roe, lemon rybread crisp and pea sprout). Ross went for the classic shrimp (hand-peeled shrimps, mayonnaise and lemon on white bread) and roasted pork (with stewed red cabbage and picled cucumber).
On Saturday we woke up to freshly baked cinnamonand cardamom buns, a sweet courtesy from Tanja. We spent most of the day with our friends and their children and also managed to go to a Royal Copenhaguen outlet store to purchase some more pieces for our plate and mug collection. One of the most popular ceramic brands in the country, it was founded in 1775 and became the Royal Porcelain Factory. Their blue and white designs are the most iconic, but Ross and I fell in love with their Flora collection a few years ago and we have been slowly gathering some precious pieces. Last year we also got some small Christmas plates and so the outlet was a small paradise for us!
Copenhaguen in spring is delightful, and we joined the locals in enjoying the sunshine al fresco. Our lunch was on a rooftop and we had a simple meal of fresh battered fish and chips.
For dinner, Nicholas smoked and grilled a salmon and we had it with asparragus and potatoes. A perfect ending to a beautiful couple of days.
A hyper-local dining experience
Our reservation was at 6 o’clock. We got there a few minuets earlier and we were welcomed inside the greenhouse. After having it seen from the outside two years before, I got to step inside. It was like entering to a magical world of herbalism and potions. While we waited for the other couple that would complete the table of 6, we were served a lemongrass tea and soaked in the views and the excitment we were all feeling.
Nicholas and Tanja’s friends arrived and we were told to continue walking following the path on the other end of the greenhouse. Two imposing doors framed the entrance. They were decorated with dried motives of this dining season on progress: the Ocean.
Inside, an army of cooks welcomed us in unison taking us aback. In the middle of the crowd, the chef and owner René Redzepi was smiling and greeting us.
We were seated at a round table that was already full of food. Raw food. “This that you see, is going to be everything you’ll eat tonigh”. All harvested, foraged or fished in close proximity.
The menu consisted of 15 dishes and we chose to pair it with selected drinks. One half of the couples went for the non-alcoholic pairing, and the other-half with the alcoholic one. I am not much of a drinker, so I may be biased, but I found the non-alcoholic option much more interesting as the flavor of teas, juices and fermented beverages were very distinct and you could see how they complemented the dishes clearly.
Slowly, the room got filled with guests and at some point we stopped hearing the shouts of the cooks welcoming new diners. The ambience was relaxed and immediately you felt you were somewhere special where the connection with nature was not only in your plate but also in the choice of furnishing materials and on the huge glass walls that faced the canal and bonded the dining room with the outside.
The kitchen was composed of a set of very long counterspaces that dominated half of the room and were completely exposed to the looks of the diners. After the meal, we were shown around, and we were told it was a very conscious design: the countertops served as hot plates and were much easier to clean than normal cookstoves, freeing up a lot of time after service. There were other kitchens aside the dining room, where some dishes were prepared before-hand, but all of them were finished in front of the customers. As an experimental restaurant, it also had different labs were they tried tecnhiques with an enphasis on fermentation, for which they are world famous.
In their website, they present themselves as such:
“For the past twenty years, noma has been a restaurant ever curious to learn and grow—to be the best that we can be! Our origin is rooted in an exploration of the natural world, which began with a simple desire to rediscover wild local ingredients by foraging and to follow the seasons.
Since the early years, we have added many layers to what we do; we have teams dedicated only to innovation, another team is specialized in fermentation, we have fulltime foragers, gardeners, and researchers. We’ve traveled the world in search of inspiration, technique, friendship, and new ingredients. Over the years we’ve grown our staff from a mere twelve, to now more than one hundred.
Pursuit of knowledge, devout creativity, relentless teamwork, and surprising our guests are essential to who we are.”
Ocean Season 2025, their last one, showed that indeed. All the dishes honored the product (crab, scallops, mussels, seaweed, squid, burbot, mushrooms…), showing its presence but transforming it just enough to awe.
An standard-bearer for New Nordic cuisine, Noma will close this Spring with Ocean Season, which came after their Vegetable and Forest Seasons, and follow the example of Redzepi’s teacher Ferran Adrià and become a creative lab. Noma will continue serving food, though, unlike Adrià’s restaurant El Bulli, as they are planning on carrying it on through periodic pop-ups around the world.
They have also created sub-ventures to reach a broader audience. Noma Projects is an e-store where you can buy original sauces like their mushroom garum, which we got as a present after dinishing our meal. Noma Kaffe is defined as “A new filter coffee subscription from restaurant noma, featuring beans sourced and roasted by our team in Copenhagen”.
Lena Hennessy, chief operating officer of Noma, mentioned that “We want to redefine ourselves as an organisation. Not in the format people have become accustomed to. But feeding people, yes”.
After Redzepi’s words to The New York Times on January 2023 claiming that “to continue Noma, we must change” due to “unsustainable” reasons, it seems the change is on the way.
Julia Moskin wrote:
“The style of fine dining that Noma helped create and promote around the globe — wildly innovative, labor-intensive and vastly expensive — may be undergoing a sustainability crisis.
Mr. Redzepi, who has long acknowledged that grueling hours are required to produce the restaurant’s cuisine, said that the math of compensating nearly 100 employees fairly, while maintaining high standards, at prices that the market will bear, is not workable.”
Ross and I paid a lot of money for that meal. Think of an extravagant number and double it. We saw it as a life-time experience that we got to share with our friends and as a vacation, all together. We had a very interesting dining experience and left happy. But, according to Redzepi, all that money we spent was not enough to keep the restaurant going. Not enough to having everyone involved paid fairly (eliminating the idea of unpaid interns), not enough to run the operations and the creative part it envolves. And I am sure it’s true.
So, is it the end not only of Noma but also of fine-dining the way we knew it? Ross and I will never spend the money we did in another dining experience, but some people might. Only a few very priviledged ones. So, is sustainable fine-dining really only for the ultra rich? And if so, can it really change the way we think about food and raise broad concerns if only the most priviledged ones are going to be listening?
These questions were presented two years ago with Redzepi’s announcement but they are still very relevant today. To me, fine-dining shouldn’t only represent a delicious event, but like art, it should also make us think, give us a new perspective.
I left Noma with a full happy belly and with an inspired mind. Can I also learn to forage and discover new ways to utilize more of the animals and vegetables from where I live? Is there a way to reduce our dependence on a handful of species and start relying on others, making our meals and ecosystems happier?
I just wish the creative minds of the gastronomic world can find a way to make these questions accessible to everybody, because they are important. Redzepi is defenitely trying and I cannot wait to watch his documentary Omnivore to be aired worldwide on AppleTv on July 19th.
Our extravagant weekend in Copenhaguen ended and once back in Boston a move to the new house awaited. Until now, I haven’t really had a chance to reflect on it, though I realize it left a mark as two weeks ago I decided to go foraging myself and I wrote about it. As a food writer I am trying to do my part, even if my voice is not loud, I believe individual action is key and every small change can be significant to make a more conscious and sustainable — in all senses— world.
Looking forward to reading this!
You raise some very good questions. here. Fine dining may not be here for long. Especially with the impact on workers. Those open sandwiches sound delicious!