Lunch at Dabbous (Tasting Menu)

Almost one year ago, I made my first visit to Dabbous shortly after it had gotten its first Michelin star, in addition to just about every superlative imaginable from London's major food critics. I was then very impressed by the food and unpretentious atmosphere, and vowed to myself to return soon. However, increasing work commitments and an insanely full reservations schedule meant that I never got round to a second visit till this afternoon - but as they say better late than never!

I was really looking forward to this lunch, especially as it would be my last visit for the foreseeable future. I was also keen to experience if and how the cooking had evolved or improved over the course of the year. Unfortunately, no additional stars were awarded by Michelin this year as I had hoped (perhaps you'll see why towards the end of this post), but the constantly packed space even after 1.5 years of business (and cooling of the initial hype) must mean that this restaurant is doing something right!

Just about a month ago, I had managed to squeeze myself in for a late lunch today via direct correspondence with the restaurant, so I was pretty lucky I guess. (One general tip: don't bother with online reservations systems for hugely popular establishments like this; just call or email for last-minute availability.)

Upon arrival, I was informed very apologetically by Graham, the manager on duty, that my table wasn't ready yet as the customers from the previous seating had not vacated. Not surprising at all, as it is very difficult to keep to a strict turnover time, and you can't possibly ask the customers to leave just like that in an upmarket restaurant. I was escorted to the basement bar and offered some water by Graham's friendly assistant Amy, while he tried to sort out my table as soon as possible.

I was expecting a longer wait (and I really didn't mind) but after what seemed like only 10 minutes Amy returned to say that my table was ready and to take me back up. To my utter surprise and delight she added, 'To apologise for making you wait, may I offer you a complimentary glass of wine to go with your lunch today?' Of course I wasn't going to say no! What a lovely start to the meal.

There have been a couple of fundamental changes to the menu since last year: they now serve only two fixed menus, a 4-course set lunch (£28) and a 7-course tasting (£59). The dishes were entirely different from what I had on the first visit. No prizes for guessing which I chose! I was also allowed to pick a wine from those offered by the glass (more on that soon).

Bread to die for -
still as good as last year's!

Course 1: Muscat grapes with lovage, almond milk and a drizzle of rapeseed oil.

This was a lovely and wholesome starter. The sweetness and juiciness of the grapes were perfectly matched by the mild nuttiness of the almond milk, while lovage and rapeseed oil imparted a touch of freshness with their crisp and slightly bitter taste.

Course 2: lardo on toast with black truffle.

Throw out all your diet regimes - toast doesn't get better than this! Strong truffle aromas really excited all the senses even before I had taken a bite. This reminded me immediately of both the signature truffle toast dish at The Ledbury and the lardo on toast starter that I had at I' Brincello in Florence during my Easter holiday in Italy. Now I had both on the same piece of bread! Slivers of creamy and silky lardo with an incredibly intense flavour, combined with fragrant truffle shavings, generously spread over a warm, crisp and wafer-thin slice of bread - what's not to love? In contrast to the previous starter, this was pure unabashed indulgence and comfort food at the highest level.

The wine that I had selected a while ago was now served in anticipation of the next course. I was a little miffed by the sommelier (not Amy) when I asked him to tell me a little more about this wine; his response in a somewhat patronising tone was 'Well what do you want to know?' and I didn't manage to get any deeper information other than the wine's basic composition. To be sure, I'm no wine connoisseur and I was just trying to learn.

Anyway, this was a 2001 Château Les Ormes de Pez from the St. Estèphe region, a surprisingly mild, fresh and clean Bordeaux, made of mainly Merlot grapes with a blend of Cabernet Blanc and Sauvignon. A truly excellent tipple - I would have paid its asking price of £14 - made even better by the fact that it was on the house (the indifferent sommelier notwithstanding)!

Course 3: carrot cooked in oxtail gravy, with rosemary infused swede cream and smoked powder.

This reminded me somewhat of the single carrot with ash and sorrel cream that was served to me at Noma in Copenhagen at the end of last year. The techniques here were different but no less precise and understated; the carrot had been cooked to amazing melt-in-the-mouth tenderness, with no fibrous hints whatsoever, and retained all its juices. Its sweetness, combined with the deep flavour of the thick oxtail gravy, was utterly moreish and satisfying. How often can one say that of a carrot-centred dish? Not forgetting the jewel in the crown either: a small mound of rich and smooth swede cream, enhanced with the sweet pine-like aroma of rosemary and a smoky aftertaste from the sprinkling of ash. The flavours and textures of this dish were substantial, yet left the stomach feeling surprisingly light and balanced.

Course 4: monkfish with warm potted shrimps, cauliflower purée, pickled cucumber, wood sorrel, pea shoots and oyster sauce.

This was straightforward and tasty. The monkfish's firm and succulent texture and delicate flavour was aptly enhanced by the meaty texture and rich spiced taste of potted shrimps. The cauliflower purée was a perfect complement to the natural sweetness of fresh seafood, while the surrounding pool of oyster sauce (not as viscous, dark-coloured and salty as the bottled Chinese ones, to be sure) bound the whole dish together with a lovely umami. Various garnishings completed this picture of wholesomeness with a pleasant crisp edge.

Course 5: roasted veal fillet with coco beans, chrysanthemum leaf, summer squash, red onions and a light cheese broth with a dash of olive oil.

The was the heaviest dish of the afternoon. The intense aromas of cheese, onion and roasted meat wafted through the air as the dish was being brought to my table. The veal was done just right and had a most tender and juicy texture, and mere seasoning with sea salt was enough to highlight its deep flavour. The was no let-up from the surrounding sauce either; its rich taste, enhanced by a fresh and bitter edge from olive oil, was just perfect for the veal. The generous portion of beans and vegetables contributed a healthy balance and made one feel somewhat less guilty about all this indulgence!

Course 6: chilled lemon verbena infusion with cucumber and perilla (shiso).

This was a delightful breath of fresh air after the extravagance of the preceding courses. The predominant citrus flavour of the infusion, combined with crisp cucumber and the unmistakable sweet minty aroma of shiso, was irresistible. My only complaint was the miniscule portion, even by palate cleanser standards!

Course 7: orange blossom beignet.

I hesitate to call this a 'course' because this was really just a ball of donut-like pastry with custard filling and dusted with powdered sugar. Sure, it was warm, crisp on the outside and fluffy on the inside, and the custard was nice and thick (though I couldn't quite detect the citrusy edge that orange blossoms should have imparted) - but was there anything about this confection that you could not reasonably expect to get in any decent bakery? This last bit of the menu was inoffensive, to be sure, but it was also terribly underwhelming for such an acclaimed restaurant.

Ending bites: baby Japanese peaches with shredded shiso.

These looked nothing like peaches, obviously, but their deliberately unripe state was surprisingly effective; the well-balanced sweet-and-sour taste together with shiso resulted in something that resembled a much juicier version of Taiwanese cured plums, which are often taken after meals to aid digestion.

So what's the verdict upon this repeat visit? I felt that this menu was very different from last year's which had used nuts extensively; I wonder if this change was a result of customer feedback (as nut and seed allergies are extremely common in this part of the world). The flavours had also become noticeably heavier (in a good way - I wasn't complaining). In hindsight, the only disappointments were in desserts; they were now quite nondescript compared to the exquisite execution and good portion sizes of last year's desserts. A real shame to have ended this way methinks, considering the very high level of the savoury courses.

On the presentation front, I also noticed a few chipped pieces of crockery (as in the photos). I know this restaurant is about industrial chic and all that, but a seemingly minor detail like this can detract from its polished image in the long term.

Still, for its unfussy and solid cooking, Dabbous is worth a visit as you probably won't be getting a tasting menu of this quality for this price at comparable starred establishments in London. If its reservations schedule for the next 6 months is anything to go by, the foodie community definitely doesn't seem to be minding a few inadequacies!

Chilling out over lunch at Dinner

A friend Chris whom I met on a recent course in Scotland is in London for a couple of days to rehearse for an upcoming concert. As a food lover himself, he had asked me for recommendations on nice places for lunch at reasonable prices. We met up today, and having found out that he was a fan of Heston Blumenthal I knew exactly where to take him. I got us a last-minute table for a late lunch at Dinner, Blumenthal's London outpost, which I'd visited last year and liked very much. The restaurant has gone from strength to strength since then, rising two places to No. 7 on the most recent St. Pellegrino's list of World's Best Restaurants.

We were not looking to splurge today, so we went for the set lunch. Oddly enough, this is the only fine restaurant I've visited which doesn't offer a tasting menu, and ordering off the more elaborate à la carte menu (which I did on my first visit) would have cost us a lot more for the same number of courses. Anyway, the set lunch menu with a choice of two dishes for each course looked really good too!

Blumenthal's love for reworking historic British recipes, realised only to a certain extent at The Fat Duck in Bray (which I'd visited earlier this month), is given full attention here. Compared to the more formal flagship, there are very little, if at all, table theatrics in this decidedly casual and no-frills restaurant, despite its extremely upmarket Central London location. Head chef and Blumenthal protégé Ashley Palmer-Watts focuses purely on solid historical recreations with big flavours, achieved through modern cooking techniques with a Hestonian twist.

First up, white and brown sourdough bread with organic salted butter. Not mind-blowing in any sense, but still solid and of very high quality (especially the butter). No amuse-bouches otherwise, but I'd known that already from my first visit.

Starter 1 (mine): salamugundy (c. 1720) - smoked heritage tomatoes, radishes, celery fluid gel, buckler sorrel and lovage emulsion.

A tomato salad of the highest order, these heritage varieties were incredibly juicy and sweet, and the smoking gave them a further richness and depth of flavour that one doesn't normally expect from this fruit. The other vegetables and herbs on the plate kept this dish clean and light throughout, from the tart sorrel leaves, to the fresh and crunchy radishes, and the aromatic emulsion and gel. The fluid gel was a characteristic Heston touch, with a texture between jelly and thick jus; the use of gelatin instead of starch-based thickeners resulted in a really pure and crisp flavour. This was indeed a pleasant and wholesome start to the meal.

Starter 2 (Chris'): dressed snails (c. 1884) - with parsley fluid gel, braised fennel, pickled beetroot, carrot and artichoke, salty fingers (a coastal plant) and red wine jus.

Compared to my starter, this was a heavier dish full of robust flavours and aromas. The snails were tender and moist, but what made this dish really special were its accompaniments. The braised fennel had a rich anise-like taste and fragrance, enhanced by the full-bodied red wine jus and balanced by the fresh clean taste of the parsley gel and the tartness of the pickled vegetables. The garnish of salty fingers was a unique touch, with their unusually crunchy and succulent leaves, and a distinctive saltiness that seemed to carry all the freshness of a sea breeze. Who needs ordinary salt to taste when you can have this?

Main course 1 (mine): roast ray wing and admiral's sauce (c. 1826) - sea aster, shallots, fresh peas and pea purée, sauce of brown butter, sherry vinegar, capers and anchovies.

The ray was tender, succulent, and had just the right charred edge from roasting to complement its naturally delicate taste. The predominantly pea accompaniments were pleasantly sweet, and the fresh peas were particularly lovely with their firm crunchiness (much better than frozen peas in texture I must say!). As for the other components, shredded shallots (under the fish) imparted a really great aroma and flavour with a tinge of sweetness, while the sea aster was remarkably crisp and moreish. Lastly, the admiral's sauce, incredibly tasty but bordering on sharpness due to the copious use of capers, both balanced the general sweetness of this dish and gave it a greater depth and intensity.

Main course 2 (Chris'): slow cooked pork belly (c. 1710) - with crackling, smoked hispi cabbage, apple gel and mead jus.

Who could say no to a roast dish as comforting and flawless as this? A little slice of heaven came in the form of a chunk of pork belly, which despite its thickness remained melt-in-the-mouth throughout. It had a wonderfully intense flavour due to the presence of a good amount of fat - so certainly not for the health-conscious! - however most of the fat had melted away during the process of slow cooking so that the meat felt surprisingly lean whilst still retaining its full concentrated flavour. Chunks of perfectly crisp and non-greasy crackling were the icing on this immaculate cut of pork. On the side, a portion of hispi cabbage complemented the rich taste and succulence of the pork with a remarkably deep smoky taste and juicy crunch, while the classic pairing of apple(sauce) took the form of a light gel with just the right balance of sweetness and acidity. A thick and full-bodied mead jus aptly completed this picture of unashamed indulgence.

Dessert 1 (mine): Shrewsbury gooseberry tansy tart (c. 1800) - gooseberry jam, rose custard and caraway biscuit base.

Somewhat reminiscent of a crème brûlée with its burnt sugar top, the presentation was extremely understated for a restaurant at this level; but as they say, the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and on that front this dessert hit the spot completely. This was certainly no ordinary custard pie; each bite released the delicate sweet-smelling scent of roses, balanced beautifully by a small amount of tart gooseberry jam. The palate was also kept fresh by the biscuit layer with warmly aromatic caraway seeds in the mix. Simple and delightful.

Dessert 2 (Chris'): millionaire tart (c. 1730) - olive oil biscuit, salted butter caramel, dark chocolate ganache, with vanilla ice cream on crystallised chocolate bits.

Oh, the sheer sinfulness of this one! Rich layers of caramel and chocolate on a delicate olive oil biscuit base - how could anyone go wrong with that? This seemingly meagre slice packed a really heady punch of sweet, salty and cocoa flavours, with a lovely tinge of freshness from olive oil in the biscuit base. The vanilla ice cream with real crushed vanilla pods was beautifully smooth and creamy, but somewhat paled in comparison to the luxurious tart. The crystallised chocolate, similar in appearance to Cocoa Pops, provided a delightful firm crunch with each mouthful amidst the predominantly soft textures, though it was a tad too sugary for my taste. In any case, this dessert was utterly enjoyable - leave your diets at home, resistance would be futile!

Having finished our set lunch proper, our waiter casually mentioned that he would make us each one of those nitro-ice creams we'd seen being served to every table as far as we could remember. Of course we said yes and assumed that this was part of the petit fours that are customarily offered in fine restaurants to diners at the end of their meal. (I didn't get it during my first visit, and simply assumed that they had forgotten; I wasn't going to appear cheapskate by kicking up a fuss over an ice cream.)

Very theatrical, with liquid vanilla ice
cream mix quick frozen by liquid
nitrogen into a smooth solid form.

Choice of 4 toppings in the bowls: sugar coated fennel
seeds, freeze-dried raspberries, chocolate & hazelnut
bits, apple popping candy.

My choice of freeze-dried raspberries.

Imagine our shock then when we saw a charge of £8.50 per ice cream on the bill! This had to be rectified even if we risked coming across as a bunch of cheapskates. There was no good reason for this extra charge as our waiter hadn't made it clear that it wasn't on the house - and I'd like to think that I should be very familiar with fine restaurant practices by now! I raised a firm point with the waiter who had given us the bill, and fortunately his manager was kind and proactive enough to approach us personally to apologise and to waive the £17 off the bill - good service recovery at least.

For sure, the presentation and making of these ice creams using a signature Heston technique were nothing short of dramatic, but still they could hardly have been worth that much even by Michelin standards. Compared to its use in The Fat Duck which I'd recently visited, the liquid nitrogen procedure was definitely more style than substance here - the ice cream wasn't any more special in taste and texture than what you'd expect from a fine restaurant (or indeed, what we just had in the millionaire tart dessert). To be expected to pay £8.50 for a one-minute show and a meagre cone of ice-cream just seems a little outrageous. Anyway, you have been warned about the price, in case you still want to experience this fancy process for yourself!

Actual petit fours to end the meal: the same offerings as during my last visit, namely a caraway biscuit, and chocolate mousse infused with Earl Grey tea and orange blossoms. These were lovely as usual; I thought the chocolate and Earl Grey combination worked particularly well due to a common mild bitterness, as well as a characteristic citrusy freshness from the Earl Grey which balanced the rich chocolate very effectively.

All things considered, this had been a great meal despite the final hiccup with extra charges (which was resolved in a professional manner). The service was friendly and enthusiastic, the food was brilliant even at this supposedly 'budget' set lunch price, and the atmosphere was completely relaxed, which made for a really lovely afternoon catching up with Chris. I hope to return soon!

[Update 25/09/2013: Dinner has just been awarded two Michelin stars in the latest UK guide (for the year 2014). Well deserved - congratulations!]

First visit and lunch at Pétrus

An old friend Angela from university days has just arrived in London for a short visit, and knowing the avid foodie in me, had asked to try a couple of nice restaurants together. On her first afternoon here today, I decided to take her to Pétrus, one of many restaurants in the capital owned by Gordon Ramsay.

This was a first visit for both of us. Having already been to the flagship establishment along Royal Hospital Road a few times myself, I hadn't seen the need to come here. I figured however that this would be a safe choice, as Pétrus has maintained its top position on Tripadvisor for as long as I can remember, even over the 3-starred RGR (though this could well be a question of affordability and/or availability). Another Ramsay protégé Sean Burbridge heads the kitchen here, and the set lunch is a very reasonably-priced affair with a multitude of choices for each course, in line with other Michelin-starred establishments in this city.

Pétrus is located in a nice little corner of the extremely posh Belgravia neighbourhood, just down the road from Marcus Wareing at The Berkeley. Wine lovers will know that this is also the name of a famous French red wine, and an impressive floor-to-ceiling wine cellar appropriately forms the centrepiece of the main dining room.

Waiting lounge

The initial reception was professional enough but with a few minor lapses: Angela didn't get a bag hook or a small stool for her handbag, which we noticed was given to all other ladies in the room. When we eventually asked for it, our server informed us that they had run out of stools (?!). Also Angela wasn't feeling too well actually so I asked our server to recommend a nice concoction to soothe her throat (a tea or non-alcoholic cocktail), but the server appeared really puzzled by my request, so we just settled for tap water in the end. My request for a glass of wine to accompany my main course was also forgotten, as the sommelier removed both wine glasses from the table. So all in all not a perfect first impression, but also nothing that particularly disrupted our positive mood today.

Amuse-bouche: watercress mousse and salmon tartar on toast with potato salad (hidden).

The salmon was very fresh and moist, and its characteristically deep taste was enhanced by the spicy and smooth watercress mousse. A wafer-thin slice of toast with finely-diced potato salad underneath contributed a pleasant bite and an apt weight. On the whole, a fine little dish whose delicate textures packed a surprisingly good punch of flavours to kick-start the palate.

Starter 1: asparagus velouté with confit duck, soft boiled duck egg and morels.

This was my choice and a truly wonderful way to start. The velouté was incredibly smooth and sweet. The soft-boiled egg had a perfect runny yolk that imparted a luxurious creaminess to each spoonful, topped off by the fresh juicy crunch of poached asparagus tips. The generous bed of duck and morels were the perfect savoury complement to this lovely soup, featuring a tantalising combination of deep and earthy flavours & aromas, and succulent and moist textures. Every mouthful of this starter was a real delight.

Starter 2: tartar of Casterbridge beef on toasted brioche, with a soft-boiled quail's egg, crispy sweetbreads, shaved foie gras and foie gras cream, capers, gherkins and shallot rings.

Angela's choice. Fresh, tender and succulent beef mince was spread on a light and crispy brioche like a chunky paté, and adorned with yet more lavish accompaniments. As with my soup, the runny and creamy egg yolk enhanced the texture of the beef tartar very nicely, while the foie gras and sweetbread accompaniments, with their rich textures and intense musky flavours, were also a perfect fit for the beef. Shallot rings provided further aroma, while capers and gherkins tempered the power of it all with their characteristic tartness. All in all, an opulent yet extremely well-balanced dish.

Main course 1: saddle of rabbit stuffed with foie gras and black pudding, wild mushrooms with fresh peas and pea purée, broad beans, oregano and parnsip garnish, mint oil and rabbit jus.

Not surprisingly, this was a pretty substantial dish with some magnificently rich textures and flavours from the foie gras and black pudding stuffing. The rabbit jus also had a very deep and intense taste, though it was a tad too salty for my liking (and disproportionately generous to the amount of food on the plate, I thought). Thankfully the rabbit itself was extremely tender and succulent, with a lovely delicate flavour. The legumes and herbs also kept things reasonably light in delivering a pleasant crunch and a refreshing spiciness. I should finally mention the sprinkling of wild mushrooms which made a delightfully subtle point with their powerful earthy taste and aroma, and were a totally apt match for the sumptuously-stuffed rabbit.

Main course 2: pan-roasted cod fillet on a bed of Puy lentils, with variations on cauliflower (poached/grilled/puréed/foamed), mussels and a lightly curried velouté.

Again, my first impression was that the fish was swimming in this large pool of sauce (sorry, couldn't help the pun) but otherwise it was a truly excellent dish - unfussy, precise and tasty. The cod was perfectly cooked, with a smooth, moist and flaky flesh, a nicely browned crispy skin and a touch of sea salt. The mussels were agreeably firm and juicy. The cauliflower's sweetness was a wonderful companion to the light flavours of the seafood, while the curried velouté, excessiveness notwithstanding, delivered a delicious kick without upsetting the delicate overall balance. I slightly preferred this dish over the one I'd originally chosen above.

Palate cleanser: passion fruit mousse cornetto with white chocolate shavings and popping candy.

A charming transition into desserts after all that savoury feasting. The sourish passion fruit mousse was incredibly light and refreshing, and the popping candy at the bottom of the cornetto (surprise!) stimulated our palates in the most unexpected and fascinating manner imaginable. The brilliant tingling sensation on our tongues lingered on even after we'd finished and we were relishing every moment of it.

Dessert 1: apple and caramel parfait, with compressed apple, 'cinnamon' (flavoured pastry sticks), 'star anise' (dark chocolate), mini toffee apples, applesauce and cider foam.

A highly creative and beautiful apple dessert with all the usual trappings presented in a fancy manner. This was just about as much as anyone could do to an apple, I think. I was particularly fascinated by the parfait, which had three distinct layers - first a sweet-sour crust of green apple and white chocolate, then a main body of the creamiest and most decadent caramel ice cream, and finally right in the centre, a refreshing and full-bodied iced Calvados filling that gave the tastebuds a really nice jolt to finish. I can't really imagine how this was made - must have required some pretty amazing equipment and/or precision in timing and execution. Anyway as they say the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and this was clearly a success. The accompaniments were somewhat more commonplace and generally apt; the only bits I didn't quite get were the star anise-shaped dark chocolate, which puzzlingly didn't have any taste of anise (unlike the cinnamon-flavoured sticks), and the compressed apple, which I thought somewhat superfluous in execution - surely a fresh slice or none at all would work just as well? Not much point in compressing and concentrating the flavour of such a small slice anyway since apple is everywhere on the plate in some form. (But this is a posh restaurant after all, I suppose!)

Dessert 2: star anise crème brûlée, caramelised pear, pear compote and licorice reduction.

A classic French dessert given a spicy herbal twist, this was very solidly made and somewhat unusually presented like a cheesecake instead of in a ramekin. The crème brûlée had a really rich custard-like texture, complete with a crispy burnt sugar top layer and biscuit base. It also had a lovely deep vanilla flavour (with evidence of real crushed vanilla pods) tinged with the warm, sweet and mildly spicy taste of star anise. The latter was very aptly paired with a licorice reduction that had a similarly refreshing bittersweetness about it. The pear accompaniments had a very nice juicy bite and the caramelised slice in particular had an unusually deep and concentrated sweetness that was a great match for the lush herbal flavours of the crème brûlée. This was on the whole a very interesting and effective combination of flavours.

With the main meal finished, we decided to get some tea/coffee and chocolate at a supplement and received a whole array of chocolate squares of various intensities and cocoa types in a nice little wooden drawer, a dish full of chocolate covered almonds, and the signature Ramsay petit fours of strawberry & vanilla ice cream coated in white chocolate (which I've already had on my own visits to the flagship RGR). Not bad at all for a mere £5 extra per person!

The Sencha was pretty good, by the way!

A very blissful Angela
just before we left the restaurant.

In summary, it had been a lovely afternoon catching up with an old friend over a nice and slow lunch. The service was generally warm and professional and the cooking, though not exactly what I would call mind-blowing, was very solid indeed. We were both sufficiently impressed by this 'basic' lunch menu, and I certainly hope to return myself for the full tasting menu, to experience the full capabilities of the kitchen team.

Dinner at Kokkeriet, Copenhagen

This evening, I visited Kokkeriet for my first spot of fine dining in Copenhagen. This restaurant, located on a side street running along the extensive grounds of the Rosenborg Palace (itself a must-see attraction!), is one of the few Michelin-starred establishments in the city and currently holds the top spot on Tripadvisor amongst restaurants in Copenhagen. Helmed by David Johansen, the kitchen prides itself on its ‘rendition of Danish classics’ using whatever is available 'in the backyard, in the forest and in the surrounding waters' (quotes from the website).

Upon arrival I was received warmly by the front-of-house staff and seated promptly by the window with a good view of the space. The atmosphere was warm, elegant and cosy. I had been one of the first customers of the evening and the restaurant filled up soon after I arrived – not bad at all for a Monday.

I was surprised to be served with a flurry of canapés before being shown the menu, which, according to the servers who brought them, are supposed to set the tone of the evening and create a sense of excitement about the upcoming feast.

The first came very impressively in a gourd-shaped wooden container filled with pine  needles (what could be more representative of the Scandinavian landscape?). This was a trio of (from left to right) malt biscuit with pine salt and pine oil sour cream, fried buckwheat bread with squid ink and truffled mayonnaise, and Jerusalem artichoke cracker with cep cream and grated almonds.

All three morsels were delicious and had a delightfully crispy texture. The biscuit was a successful balance of sweet, sour and salty flavours, refreshed with each bite by the delicate fragrance of pine. The fried buckwheat, my favourite of the trio, had a deep nutty flavour, with rich earthy aromas from the truffled cream to match. The artichoke cracker with cep and almond toppings was similarly tasty though somewhat lighter in flavour and mouthfeel, with a pleasant sweetness and slight roasted edge.

Next up was a tapioca and cod fish cracker with squid ink, seasoned with beetroot, horseradish, mustard and smoked fish powders.

This creative take on a traditional Danish starter of cured fish served with various condiments was very successful indeed – well seasoned and tasty, with a mild spicy edge. Its concentrated and characteristic fishy flavor reminded me very much of cuttlefish crackers, which are a popular snack in Southeast Asia.

Next was a salmon sandwich with cured salmon, salmon roe, baby spinach, dried lime zest and a touch of vanilla.

This was the most interesting canapé to me. Smoked salmon sandwiches and salmon roe are by no means rare, but this version refreshed by lime zest – which gives it a slight bitter edge over the citrus flavor of the more common lemon juice seasoning – both balanced and enhanced the fresh and rich taste of the salmon components more effectively, while the overall tart flavours of this canapé were rounded out very unusually but successfully with a touch of vanilla, which contributed a subtle and comforting sweetness.

Last of the pre-dinner bites was a sophisticated adaptation of a traditional Danish midnight snack Dyrlægens natmad. Just for context, this 'veterinarian's midnight snack' is actually a Danish open-faced rye sandwich (the ubiquitous smørrebrød) spread with pork liver paté (leverpostej), a slice of corned beef (salt kød) and meat aspic (sky), and garnished with raw onion rings and cress. The version before me had foie gras parfait (very similar in composition and texture to leverpostej) coated with rye breadcrumbs, topped with deep fried cured veal strips (an upgrade on corned beef) and a cress garnish, and sat on a bed of black aspic gel.

This was pure luxury; it would be difficult to imagine a more decadent combination in a tiny canapé than a thick, creamy and musky foie gras mousse with deep-fried cured veal strips (think crispy bacon with an infinitely fuller-bodied taste and a more delicate saltiness). The touch of aspic gel (gelatin from meat stock or consommé) provided further savoury depth with its concentrated flavour. The breadcrumb coating added an pleasant crunchiness in the texture, while the mildly spicy cress garnish was a good balance for the generally rich flavours of this morsel.

Having completed this rather elaborate prelude to the meal, the actual tasting menu was now presented, with a choice of either 4 or 6 courses. Juice/wine pairings, cheese, and an additional serving of special sturgeon caviar, are also available at an extra cost. I decided to do the full 6 courses with juice pairings, as the latter seems to be a unique feature of fine Danish/Scandinavian restaurants, and gives the kitchen greater freedom to create highly individualised concoctions to match each course.

For both the amuse bouche and the first course I was presented with a cucumber and celery juice; this was very refreshing and clean-tasting, with strong vegetal notes and a delicate sweetness. All these characteristics complemented the crisp flavours of the amuse bouche perfectly, and worked as an effective contrast to the intensity of the first course.

Amuse bouche: salted fresh tuna on a bed of horseradish cream mixed with canned tuna, fresh cucumber slices, cucumber snow, mint oil, fresh goat’s cream cheese sauce, garnish of cress and dill.

Coming after the extravagant series of canapés, this was most effective as a palate cleanser. The general tone was one of lightness and purity, with delicate seasoning and just the right degree of spiciness for a crisp, piquant taste. The diverse components of this starter worked very harmoniously together to set up both the tastebuds and stomach for the feast ahead.

Bread and spreads were next. Two types of bread were served: brown bread with molasses (a by-product of refining sugarcane or sugar beet into sugar), and spelt bread with sea salt. The two accompanying spreads were: a blend of fresh and brown butter topped with hazelnut crumble, and cream cheese mixed with lime, chives and herb salt.

The breads were still warm when served, and had a firm and substantial texture. The brown bread in particular had an interestingly robust sweetness. The spreads were just as excellent: the luxurious butter blend topped with hazelnuts was fresh and intense in flavour with a slightly sweet edge, while the cream cheese was amazingly light, aromatic and velvety, with a delicate bitterness and acidity from the lime which enhanced its refreshing nature.

Course 1: foamy onion soup, chive oil, bakskuld (a Danish dish of salted, dried and smoked flatfish), other variations on onion – marinated red peel, fried pearl onions, milk poached onions, onion purée, onion powder.

This was a powerfully aromatic dish which showcased the full potential of this bulbous vegetable and highlighted the surprising inherent diversity of its flavours through different cooking techniques. This classic Danish onion soup was made even more tasty by bits of smoked fish nestled within the pickled onion shells, while the chive oil, with its strong onion-like scent and very generously used, was a totally apt enhancement for the dish. On the whole, this was a very warm and comforting start, which despite its apparent formality and sophistication upheld a feeling of immediacy and authenticity.

For the next course, I was offered a sea buckthorn (orange-yellow coastal berries) and grapefruit juice with a touch of salt. My server told me that this was a rather controversial pairing amongst customers, and a sip confirmed my hunch about its taste. Both rather acidic components resulted in an extremely astringent juice that had a strangely spicy edge (perhaps, as I was later told, due to the salt). On its own this juice would have been too tart to drink, but taken with the food it was actually quite an effective balance for the rich flavours stemming from a combination of crustaceans and seaweed.

Course 2: seared scallop with fried sea snails (periwinkles), seaweed purée, pickled sea buckthorn, glasswort (marsh samphire), mussel foam.

Served impressively amongst an assortment of seashells, twigs, samphire, pebbles and coarse rock salt grains to evoke a typical shoreline, this dish was as tasty as it was attractive. The scallop was tender, juicy and sweet with a subtle and pleasant charred edge. The small lumps of sea snails had a fresh flavour and nice chewy texture, while the seaweed purée contributed a most gratifying umami to each bite of the crustaceans. The glasswort with its crisp and salty flavour was another apt enhancement, while the smattering of sea buckthorn provided a refreshing balance with its characteristic tartness. To top it all off, a velvety and full-bodied cover of mussel foam served as the perfect foil for this range of flavours from the sea.

For the next course, I was given a juice of green grapes and cabbage, with a touch of horseradish. Coming after the previous juice this seemed comfortingly sweet, with a spicy and vegetal edge to keep the tastebuds fresh and stimulated. It was a very good fit indeed for the somewhat lighter fish course that was to follow.

Course 3: zander (pike perch) fillet with cauliflower and hazelnuts (both fresh and puréed), egg yolk, lemon zest, lemon verbena and kohlrabi strips, drizzled over by a sauce of fish stock, sour cream, yolk and butter.

My favourite dish of the evening, the fillet was moist and tender, though it could have been slightly larger in proportion to its accompaniments. Its fresh and delicate flavour was very well complemented by mildly sweet cauliflower and kohlrabi (a type of cabbage), and given a crisp edge by the citrusy flavour and aroma of lemon zest and verbena. The rich and tasty sauce, and unusually thick and creamy yolk (beautifully separated from the egg white and delicately boiled to the perfect texture) imparted a luxurious mouthfeel to every bite, and enhanced the taste of the fish with a delightful savoury depth. The hazelnuts were the final icing on the proverbial cake, with their deep characteristic flavour and crunchy texture adding an apt body to this already excellent dish.

For the next dish, orange juice with green tea and dill seeds was presented. This was by far the most memorable and successful pairing, a seemingly bizzare combination that worked surprisingly well - very light, clean-tasting and aromatic with only a mild tanginess, it was a perfect match for the full-bodied scents and flavours of the following course.

Course 4: minced smoked lamb tongue and smoked lamb sweetbreads topped with dill gel, fresh dill, raw chestnuts, grilled cos lettuce, and surrounded by shrimp bouillon with lashings of dill oil.

Like the onion course, the powerful aromas of this dish left a strong initial impression even before I had taken the first mouthful. The fragrant smoked bits of lamb under the layer of dill gel were delightful – the sweetbreads had a velvety and succulent texture, and a particularly deep flavour with a sweetish edge, while the minced tongue had a tender and gelatinous texture that was most pleasing to the bite. The extensive use of dill, with its strong aroma and sweet taste with a fresh bitter edge (similar to caraway), both enhanced and balanced the rich taste of the smoked lamb, while the rather concentrated shrimp bouillon, a most unexpected pairing for lamb, yielded brilliant results, with its full-bodied taste and aroma converging in remarkable harmony with the lush offal components. To finish, a touch of refreshment was imparted by crisp slices of raw chestnuts and grilled lettuce. On the whole, this was a vivid and intense dish with a combination of ingredients that had strong individual characters, yet worked astonishingly well on the same plate.

Moving on to the most substantial course of the evening, I was offered a juice of blue grapes and licorice. This robust drink with an intensely sweet and spiced taste, enhanced by a slight bitter edge, was a fitting equal for the sheer sumptuousness of the next dish.

Course 5: venison shank slow cooked for 12 to 16 hours, scorzonera (black salsify root) done two ways: 1) pickled; 2) fried and rolled in ash, mushroom and licorice purée, marinated mushroom slices, sauce of venison stock, Gammel Dansk (a traditional Danish schnapps made from 52 different spices) and licorice, white chocolate crumble.

The first thing that impressed me was how head chef David managed to come round to every table this evening to carve and plate the meat for all his customers. Needless to say, such personal attention is extraordinary even by Michelin standards. Although the restaurant is quite small, which might make this warm gesture logistically possible on a daily basis, one still cannot take such things for granted. In fact, I should mention that up to this point David had served and introduced most of my dishes (and similarly for other customers), which is very impressive indeed.

But back to the food – David informed me that it was customary in Danish cuisine to serve meat with a variety of sweet and sour accompaniments, as demonstrated in this dish. The venison was pure luxury, full-bodied in taste with an incredibly tender and velvety melt-in-the-mouth texture. This intense meat was well matched by its accompanying sauce and the mushroom and licorice purée, both with powerful notes of spices and an equally deep flavor with an earthy edge, while a sprinkling of white chocolate below the meat imparted an extra touch of indulgence with its characteristic sweetness and density. For balance and refreshment, pickled salsify strips and mushroom slices were an apt addition with their delicate acidity and crunchy texture, while the fried salsify rolled in ash imparted a pleasant and stimulating bitterness.

Imagine my surprise when David said that I could have a second helping if I would like to have more! Despite my stomach already filling up by this point, this was an offer I couldn’t refuse, and a short while later a second plate of venison was served along with a juice top-up. True to David’s philosophy (taken from Kokkeriet's website) that his food should be so good that customers would rather have another helping than move on to the next dish, I had the opportunity to savour this superb dish to its fullest, though I must mention that I was so stuffed by the end of this course that I had to request for a longer break before continuing with dessert. Can you think of another Michelin-starred restaurant on this planet that offers an all-you-can-eat main course within its tasting menu?! It might have been too heavy on the palate and stomach, but when the food is this good, there is very little reason to complain.

Second helping... almost too good to be true!

After about 20 minutes I was ready to finish the meal. Before the actual dessert, I was given a little something to counter the heaviness of the previous courses, and to help alleviate a pretty bloated tummy. This was a celery sorbet with celery powder, chopped walnuts and green grape compote. The main celery components, with a very crisp and clean taste, were a most welcome relief to the palate. The grape compote enhanced the delicate flavour of celery with a pleasant sweetness, while the chopped walnuts contributed a greater depth of flavour, with a characteristically bitter edge that went hand-in-hand with the refreshing vegetal notes of this interlude.

For the final juice pairing I was given a concoction of apple, tarragon and sparkling water. The mild fizziness of this drink was both refreshing and stimulating (and I might add, somewhat unexpected), while the tarragon infusion added an interesting dimension with its distinctive aniseed flavour - very sweet and aromatic, it both complemented and enhanced the core taste of apple remarkably well. The dessert itself had a strong emphasis on apple and tarragon, so this drink pairing was totally appropriate.

Course 6: yoghurt and green apple sorbets, green apple mousse in green apple gel, purée of green apple and tarragon, crunchy meringue strips, green apple sugar film, deep fried yoghurt ‘grandma’ bread crumble.

Different textures were at play here - from the light and airy sorbets, to the creamy mousse, the crunchy bits of meringue and sugar, and the fluffy brioche-like bread crumble. The flavours were straightforward and effective, with a good balance of sweetness and acidity from the apple and yoghurt components. As with the drink pairing, the infusion of tarragon into the purée was a most striking and delightful touch in this dessert. This was indeed a very refreshing and satisfying conclusion to a hearty meal.

Just before I left, I requested to see the kitchen briefly, which David promptly obliged. The floor was a bit greasy from the evening's work so I had to tread quite carefully. Not much action as it was near to closing, but you can imagine what must go on in here during busy times:

With head chef David Johansen, who was incredibly warm and patient.

Peek into the kitchen from the street - probably the
most open fine restaurant I've ever encountered.

True to the restaurant’s commitment to seasonality, this had been an extremely substantial meal, very apt for freezing Scandinavian winters. The portions were generous, and the cooking was both solid and sophisticated, full of rich and intense flavours and aromas. It was good value-for-money by Michelin standards, and cheaper than most equivalent restaurants in Copenhagen. For me it was also a rather fascinating first experience with juice pairings, using a variety of vegetables, fruit and herbs, in unexpected yet surprisingly effective combinations.

The entire service team was excellent, but I wish to highlight two people in particular who made my evening – David the head chef, and Louise, a very new staff who joined the restaurant barely a month ago. Both displayed genuine warmth and enthusiasm towards customers and spoke impeccable English, which is always helpful for foreign guests. Louise has just returned to Denmark from an extended stint in Canada and appeared to be very happy in her latest work environment. David introduced most of the dishes for the evening, and came across as being very down-to-earth – so much so that I wouldn’t have guessed that he was the head chef if not for his slightly different uniform; however, I could certainly tell from his detailed descriptions that he was extremely knowledgeable and confident. Throughout the evening, he displayed a genuine concern for customers' feedback, and his obvious pride for his native cuisine came through in his eagerness to give some background to the dishes he served, comparing tradition with his contemporary execution. At the end of the meal when the kitchen had wound down, he even sat down with me for a good half-hour to go through the details of the entire menu including canapés, and was incredibly patient with all my questions. He also led me on a brief kitchen tour, and together with Louise, sent me off very cordially. This is one dining experience that I would be very happy to repeat if I ever visited Copenhagen again. Very highly recommended.