Cookbook Review Episode 1: Trine Hahnemann's Copenhagen Food

A trip back to Denmark through Trine Hahnemann's Copenhagen Food, and the best carrot soup I've ever had

When I was a junior in college, I boarded a plane to Denmark, very unsure of what I would find on the other side. At Colby, most students spend one of their semesters abroad, unless they are on a pre-med plan or play a winter sport. I was a double major in Environmental Policy and Women’s, Gender and Sexuality Studies and was on the soccer team, so staying behind meant that I would be without most of my friends, and spending another cold winter in Maine. I went through the motions and found myself a study abroad program that seemed “doable,” to a nervous girl with limited travel experience. Many Colby students had raved about their time in Copenhagen, and one in particular gave me the sound advice to do everything. Say yes. Get out there and try new things. Because everyone abroad will be in the same place as you. Knowing no one, not trying to be “too cool,” generally just looking to see new places, have new experiences, and make new friends along the way.

January 2014- My first week in Copenhagen. Standing in front of Nyhavn Harbor.

It didn’t take long for me to realize how wonderful that advice was. I could go on and on about the lasting friendships I made, the adventures we went on, and how amazing the experiential education was, all of which manifested from a place of saying yes to all that was new in my life. But today I want to stop and appreciate what saying “yes” meant to me in terms of food. It meant trying smørrebrød in the “glass market”. It meant spending entire Sundays at Paludan cafe reading Scandinavian crime fiction (for class!) and ordering my way through every item on the menu (my girlfriends and I still dream of the goat cheese burger). It meant popping in to a corner pizza store and eating a slice alone, but not feeling lonely. It meant long afternoons at the Danish French Bogcafe, sipping on a delightfully oversized caffe latte. It meant trying new kinds of freshly baked Danish pastries, and learning that I don’t enjoy marzipan (a hallmark of Danish sweets). It meant thinking about how I would stretch my food budget at the market, and sometimes eating just asparagus for dinner (lemon asparagus with parmesan was one of the first dishes I learned to make). All in all, my time in Copenhagen taught me about tasting, eating, and grocery shopping with intention. It taught me to say yes to new flavors, and to appreciate simple, seasonal, comforting cooking that is typical of Scandinavian cuisine.

Five years later, I find myself living in Seattle, but still cooking with a Scandinavian slant. I lean in to cooking with the seasons. I refuse to use anything but salted butter on toast and in baked goods. I light candles over dinner, and see each meal as an opportunity to cozy myself, or as the Danish might say, create a bit of Hygge (pronounced hue-guh). And of course, any chance I get, I speak about my time in Denmark, reminiscing with joy as I imagine the aromas and textures of my favorite places, my favorite meals.

I have a wonderful friend Danielle who is the best listener, even when I am telling stories for the fourth, fifth...tenth time. Needless to say, Danielle knows my love of Copenhagen, and also my passion for home cooking, and so one day last Fall, she invited me to join her for a book talk with Trine Hahnemann, the author of the new cookbook Copenhagen Food. Book Larder, a Fremont bookstore devoted to cookbooks, was hosting an evening with the author, where we could go and taste some food prepared by Trine, and ask her questions about the book and her life with food in Scandinavia.

October 2018. Trine Hahnemann reads from her book, Copenhagen Food at Book Larder in Fremont, Seattle.

It was a rainy evening, and I was running late. I swooped in to Book Larder just as the talk was getting underway, and was greeted with a hot cup of carrot soup, and a freshly baked slice of rye bread. I took a sip of soup and stopped. Wow. I thought. Wow. (Again). I looked at Danielle and said, “this is the best carrot soup I’ve ever had.” It was sweet, but also spicy. There was a hint of lime and fresh ginger. With one bite I was transported back to Denmark, cozied under candlelight, and reminded again that when it comes to food, the Danes really know what they’re doing.

Trine Hahnemann prepares smorrebrod at her author talk at Book Larder in Fremont, Seattle.

The evening continued and we watched Trine prepare a beautiful array of smørrebrød (the classic, Danish, open-faced sandwich). I sampled one with hard boiled eggs and tomatoes, and one with cold boiled potatoes and crunchy, fried onions. Trine reminded us that the key to a good smorgas is combining sweet, with salt, with crunch, and with herbs. I loved that framework.

I left that night with a copy of her book, and an eager desire to recreate that carrot soup. This past week as I was planning my meals, I realized that I had a fridge full of ingredients from Local Roots Farm that completely lent themselves to Danish cooking and the recipes in Trine’s book. The decision was made, I would sample several of Trine’s recipes and take a trip back to Copenhagen within my own little kitchen in Seattle.

Below are a few pictures and descriptions of the dishes I made from her book, available here on Amazon. I wouldn’t normally say this, but the book itself is worth it just for the carrot soup recipe. The others, in my opinion, are a bonus :) Trine, thank you for sharing your love of food and special creations with the rest of us. I hope I’ve done them justice!

“Carrot, ginger and lime soup with spelt bread” (p.280)

I am not a baker. At Thanksgiving, I tried to make rolls, and accidentally put a whole extra cup of flour in, which made them taste more like bagels. Even so, I couldn’t shake the desire to recreate that delightful combination of fresh bread and carrot soup; so if Trine said to make spelt bread, I was going to make spelt bread. It turned out to be very straightforward. I couldn’t find spelt flakes at my local market, so I omitted them and added a bit more flour. It was so fun to see the bread rise overnight, and super easy to bake the next day. As for the soup… absolutely divine. It was warming, earthy, and bursting with flavor. I ate it for dinner Sunday night and all throughout the week for lunch. Superb.

“Potato on rye smorrebrod” and “Fried onions” (p.196)

I used to think that smorgas was too complicated for me to make. Every version of the Danish sandwich I saw throughout Copenhagen looked like an edible work of art. But after watching Trine craft a few smorgas with care but not overly complicated assembly, I believed that I just might be able to do it myself. I used smiling eyes potatoes from Local Roots Farm, and the spelt bread I had made for the soup, and swapped out the fresh cress for fresh dill. One other trick I leveraged was soaking my red onions in water before placing them on the sandwich, to make them a little less pungent. The result was an absolutely delightful combination of sweet, salty, herb, and crunch, just like Trine taught us. My favorite component? Probably the crispy fried onions. It turns out, they’re fairly simple to create with a little patience and a dash of self-confidence.

“Frikadeller” (p.118)

Frikadeller is the Danish word for meatballs, and dare I say, is there anything more comforting than a meatball? Even though my execution on this dish was not the best (my onions in the meatballs weren’t cut small enough, and my bechamel had a texture closure to gravy), the flavors in these meatballs were lovely, and perfectly complemented the cabbage I had on hand from Local Roots Farm. I really enjoyed the plate as Trine prepared, but I have to say that when I repurposed my leftover meatballs, cabbage and crispy fried onions into an open-faced, melted sandwich the next evening, I felt like everything totally came together, literally and figuratively.

One week of Danish food was not nearly enough for me, and in fact, may have made me miss this special city even more. I certainly have the 5 year itch and am working on a way to get myself back there, hopefully within the year. Until then, I’m so thankful for Trine’s book which can take me back through a meal in the meantime. Skål!