N.B. Sørensen’s Dampskibs expedition started up as a steamship company in Stavanger in 1876. Today it is the name of a brasserie that has been around for the last 25 years, and a more exclusive restaurant on the second floor called N.B. Sørensen Annen Etage. Annen Etage means “second floor” in Norwegian, and underlines the fact that the two restaurants have completely different concepts. The wooden floors are old and crooked, adding to the feeling of being at sea even before the first drop of wine hits your tongue. Chef Filip August Bendi is one of Norway’s strongest hopes for the next Bocuse d’Or. His traditional and creative menu suits the historic seaside location perfectly. In springtime the seafood in Stavanger is at its best – and Bendi and his team know how to make it even better. The menu is fixed and consists of four dishes, though this number generously expands by five with additional treats served in between that could easily be mistaken for regular portions. It opens with fried skrei skin, herring roe and parsley, before moving on to a taste of Norwegian childhood with the simple bread on a stick known as pinnebrød. A whale tartare is elegant and fresh and combines two classic dishes in one with its topping of horseradish cream, Kalix bleak roe, milk and nasturtiums. And the best part? We haven’t even started on the menu yet, which turns out to be loaded with the best the sea has to offer. Squid, scallops and monkfish are plated neatly and luxuriously with the first fresh greens of the year. The dessert tops all this off with an ice cream made of yellow beets and elderflower, homemade ricotta, liquorice meringue, frozen yoghurt and purple oxalis. The servings are accompanied by a traditional string of white wines. The kitchen does a great job at bringing you a truly seasonal Norwegian meal with finesse and a twist. Unfortunately, the service is a different matter. Though the timing is precise, the waiter spends more energy correcting the guests than contributing to the positive ambiance and his knowledge is limited. The staff even argue about an overcharge on the bill. It almost ruins the sweet aftertaste of warm chocolate cake dipped in ice-cold milk.
The best way to arrive in Tallinn isby sea. It offers a captivating panoramic view to the silhouette of the approaching city. If you arrived in a different way, visit Restaurant NOA. Itoffers front row tickets to the same view. The view, of course, contributes to the experience, butitisnot the main reason to visit. The NOA Chef's Hall, located under the same roof, is the best restaurant in Estonia. NOA itself is a slightly simpler, more affordable version of it. Round chairs in different colours, designed in the 1960s minimalist fashion, contribute to a cheerful impression in the whole restaurant. And they are comfortable seats for when the panoramic view over the ever-changing sea to the city along with good food and drink nail you to the place. NOA offers a signature cuisine by Tõnis Siigur and Orm Oja, the most creative in Estonia. The creativity is mainly expressed in the numerous additions to familiar dishes. The chicken schnitzel - crunchy surface, juicy middle - becomes a special NOA schnitzel with ruccola mayonnaise, plum ketchup, deep-fried sage leaves, coal-roasted Padron peppers and marinated onions. Sounds like a bit of a cacophony, butitisin reality an excellently balanced dish with plenty of different flavor nuances and visual appeal. And the newest news is the new NOA cocktail list that matches the menu in creativity.
The gigantic windows facing Åsögatan give Nook a metropolitan feel that’s followed up by dark, eclectic furnishings. The menu is playful with street food-inspired dishes at surprisingly affordable prices based on Nordic ingredients with long distance influences and an eye to fine dining. A glass of white Burgundy matches the salmon sashimi slider with mayo, cucumber and pickled ginger, and the kohlrabi tacos with crab mayo, trout roe and lobster tail. The Swedish octopus starter with green chilli oil, Avruga caviar and potato pieces rolled in nori marries nicely with a riesling, but the condiments conceal the mollusc’s delicate aromas. The tartare of dry-aged beef is among the best in town with pickled chanterelle mushrooms, salt-cured pickles, horseradish mayo, crispy fried onions and mustard cress. “That went down easy, I see”, says the waiter as he takes it away to leave room for the main courses. One is brill with tomato and sardine butter, fermented fennel beurre blanc and mashed potatoes. It’s a bit like a fine dining version of the Swedish classic, Jansson’s Temptation. A large serving of venison, seared rare, is accompanied by hearty beets, porcini mushroom cream, sour blackcurrants, brown butter and oyster mushrooms. These are paired with a tight white Spanish godello and a simpler but tasty red bordeaux. The desserts are welcomely light-hearted: a fresh citrus salad and yuzu curd with Sichuan pepper meringue; and a plum and filmjölk sorbet with umeshu foam. As long as you are not misled by the prices and order too many dishes from the flexible menu, a visit to Nook is a stimulating and satisfying culinary experience.
Nordisk Spisehus features a carousel of changing themes, but the common thread is signature dishes from top restaurants around the world that the kitchen has been granted permission to copy or build upon. This evening’s inspiration comes from the European restaurant Arcane in Hong Kong. We start with four snacks that include fried veal sweetbreads and trout cream on toast: a delicious mixture of crisp and smooth textures. We consult with the sommelier and, heeding his advice, we choose a wonderfully structured chardonnay-auxerrois-blend from Zind-Humbrecht to accompany the first two courses. The first serving is a small masterpiece from Arcane: fresh halibut, lightly marinated in yuzu, soy sauce, ginger and olive oil, with small cubes of confited jicama root. This citrus-driven opener with a nice bite to both the fish and the root is a perfect match for the wine. The ensuing butter-fried scallops of the restaurant’s own design are served with lumpfish roe, a crisp net of crepe batter, butter-fried broccolini and a creamy, well-seasoned herb hollandaise. The dish looks and tastes fabulous. Returning to Hong Kong, we are served a small and very tender cut of garlic-glazed flat ribs with spinach and fried shallots. Next up is another Nordisk Spisehus original - canette and a roll of pointed cabbage, salsify and walnuts in three wonderful variations: boiled, confited and fried. It all meshes beautifully with flavourful duck in crispy bites that reflect the quality ingredients and expertise of the kitchen. The restaurant is cosy, though a bit formal, and the staff perform with precision and professionalism throughout the evening. They have certainly succeeded at their stated mission of bringing the world to Aarhus, partly due to their own innovations.
The team at Oaxen has always been early, if not first, on the ball, and so of course they now offer a selection of handcrafted beverages. A battery of “mixers” – sodas with seasonally driven ingredients – lure you in with flavours like raspberry, mint, ginger and burnt honey cola. Add to the alcohol of your choice to make a “grog” or enjoy as a non-alcoholic alternative. The somewhat thin aperitif bubbles from Chartogne-Taillet are served with well-thought-out snacks like confited, fried hedgehog mushrooms with pure forest flavours; typically rich and salty ham from a Linderöd pig, aged 36 months; and fried Brussels sprouts that are juicy on the inside but crispy on the outside. The relatively short wine list with a focus on the organic and biodynamic still manages to cover most situations. And if you ask nicely you might be allowed to order from the wine bible at Oaxen Krog. The steak tartare is a harmony of textures and flavours: soft silverskin onions, silky mustard dressing, bitter cress, crusty sourdough, tangy cream and topside ground to perfect chewiness. Grilled celeriac baked in whey has a complex, deep richness enlivened by whitefish roe and chives. The forest-like flavours continue in a ragout of venison shank with Jerusalem artichokes and ramson capers, and in the dish with grilled duck breast and funnel mushrooms. Do not miss the sides, so carefully conceived that they constitute dishes in their own right. Round off with bread pudding, brown butter, jam and lightly whipped cream. Or the lighter dessert with fresh, macerated blueberries, sorrel, charred meringue and tarragon. Oaxen manages impressively to satisfy many different palates, but still retain its great personality – a warm bistro where the delicious Nordic flavours are purveyed with elegance and knowledge, against Stockholm’s restaurant scene’s loveliest backdrop.
The name could mean several things – that the meat here is top notch or that they go about their business with passion. It could also apply to the fact that they don’t seem to waste a thing. All the fat from the meat is drained off and bottled and all the bones and onion skins are used in stock. Sit at the counter – it’s the best place to be. You can watch the boss Janne Ahola and his team at work in the open kitchen and pick up a tip or two. They’re not averse to answering some questions even though the heat is on, literally and figuratively. The fennel bread is made on the premises and comes as your own darling little loaf with brown butter and fennel dust. Why didn’t we think of smoked asparagus? It’s raw and crunchy with a lovely crisp, fresh taste and the added dimension of smokiness. It’s served with creamy avocado foam, and each ingredient brings out the flavours of the other. The 100% xarello wine from Spain is fruity and peppery and actually has hints of asparagus. Australian beef is up next, perfectly rare, retaining its juices without any blood spreading across the plate into the green spring onion purée that keeps this dish light and balanced. With fried and dried onions on top and buttery onions underneath, it's deliciously oniony. A big, bold and acidic Nero di Troia from Apulia steps right up to this meaty plate. The menu is made up of dishes from all over the globe: “Boquerones” herring, parsnips “baharat”, and “maminha” beef. It lacks cohesion. On the other hand, these guys are cooking stuff that they like, that they’ve discovered on their travels, and they do it with heart.
About a hundred years ago, when this imposing Art Nouveau villa was being designed, a restaurant never crossed the architect's mind. Therefore, eveninour days, the milieu ishomelike and practical, and the newcomer enters an antechamber with a wardrobe. You leave your coat and slowly notice that the restaurant has been adapted to the layout of the house. The kitchen isin the cellar, the bar in the back room... There are several rooms andin the off-peak hours, when the guests are fewer, you might be able to dine in a separate room and feel like home. But the food is much more complex than a home kitchen can handle. The most characteristic (and homelike) dish is the “Paju Villa” seafood soup ofsalmon, potato, and clams, served inan old tureen. The rest of the menu embodies fashionable and creative, decoratively garnished world cuisine. Try the“Marunaka” beef! A fantaisie inspired by the humble old hamburger (or maybe by sushi?), the entrecote hamburger lies on a pillow of sushi rice, covered in turn with a nori sheet and roasted sesame seeds marinated with Ume plum. Tastes like eating hamburger and sushi at the same time.
A hotel restaurant based on a faddy and restrictive diet may not appeal on first sight, but don’t be put off. The paleo diet encourages the use of fresh and natural ingredients while eschewing grains and sugars, allowing for good if somewhat rich food of a quality seldom seen by real cavemen. Seated in cushy turquoise and gold chairs you can observe the staff in the orderly open kitchen grilling marrowbones, provoking primal pangs of hunger in an environment with modern comforts. The clientele consists mostly of hotel guests, vacationing families and solitary businessmen, with the odd walk-in couple. An amuse-bouche of puffy fried parsnips the consistency of prawn crackers, with cured coppa and a green kale mayonnaise, is delightfully moreish. A hand-chopped beef tartare with marrow, deep-fried shallots and thyme is also a rich treat. The low-carb, high-fat feast continues with pan-fried hake served with turnips, apples and a pleasantly rich but tart sauce of kefir and whey. For dessert, creamy chocolate mounds with crunchy sheets of caramel and refreshing goat’s milk ice cream round out the meal. Sourcing local, seasonal and natural produce is high on the list of priorities for Brasserie Paleo, and the kitchen’s quality cooking lets the ingredients shine. The staff are relaxed and charming, and the wine list is long if somewhat conventional for an otherwise unconventional establishment. All in all, we get an appealing if not so realistic glimpse of the Stone Age lifestyle.
Most ofus have seen how top chefs finish their dishes by placing microherbs or minute ingredients on their precise places with tweezers. Whether in real life orin food magazines. But have you ever beento a restaurant where those tweezers are a major piece of cutlery? If not, visit Parrot MiniBar. Tweezers on their own, of course, neither upgrade nor downgrade the food on the plate. However, they challenge it. Tweezers inhand make the eater feel like anything they touch with itisan exact science - or, here, exact culinary. Perfect and flawless. The interior, slightly over the top, but convincing, is meant to create a tropical atmosphere. Right in the entrance hall, the newcomer is greeted byhuge green plants and the taped chatter of tropical birds. The restaurant’s leitmotif is the parrot, present in pictures and figurines. Drinks take the tropical fantasy a step further. The cocktails are served in large bowls, with plenty of tropical ingredients and exotic flavors. (A small wine selection exists to meet the more conservative tastes.) And the food, of course, cannot be outdone by the drinks. Itisnot. Everything that ison the plate comes with exotic sides, is simply prepared andascetically served. One main ingredient with a few accompaniments. That is it. Two techniques dominate: roasting and burning (with a blow torch). Despite the raised expectations, the food at the Parrot overcomes prejudice and deserves tobe eaten with tweezers. Our favorite is the helmeted guinea fowl inXO sauce – a dish with fundamentally clear and simple tastes.
Restaurant Pasfall is relaxed and informal, yet proper and sufficiently mannered in a way that’s only possible when all of the members of a staff master their roles. The style is traditional with a local twist from the island of Funen. We begin the evening with the Danish classic of fried pork belly and parsley sauce – but not in its usual form. Instead it’s served as a snack of small crisp flakes with parsley emulsion. It’s a little tip of the cap to Pasfall’s roots on the island of Funen. An intense and foamy mushroom soup with pickled beech mushrooms is partnered elegantly with a dry S de Suduiraut, whose aromatic notes of gooseberry and fine, slightly bitter finish is delightful with the rich soup. A cold-poached cod is cured, cooked at a low temperature and served with variations of celeriac and a blanket of black truffle – a hearty but delicious dish whose lack of acidity is partially offset by the accompanying Montagny 1er cru 2013 from Jean-Marc Boillot. We stay in Burgundy with a glass of velvety Hautes-Côtes de Nuits from Michel Gros to go with a deep and umami-saturated consommé with pigeon confit in crisp packaging with pickled onion. The service is top-notch, With just over a year under its belt, The Balcony is already firmly established as more than a passing fad with delusions of grandeur. We begin a spring evening in March with a glass of champagne blanc de blancs from Henri Mandois and a rain of snacks. The most memorable ones include the caramelly Jerusalem artichoke purée in its own crisp, fried Kenneth Rimmer Sørensen heading up the front of house, and the wines are well chosen and mature. Pasfall long ago established itself in Odense’s restaurant scene as a classic, with culinary excellence and good service at the forefront. The preparations are precise and the flavours intense, but we sense a lack of balance in the menu between the light and heavy dishes. It’s almost too much of a good thing, one might say; after our evening at Pasfall we are glad, but also very full.
This continental-style brasserie attracts an international audience. On some days you can hear American, British, Korean and Swedish being spoken amongst the diners. The staff handle everything correctly and in perfect English so there are no misunderstandings. The entrance is in the middle of the restaurant, so it can be a bit draughty if you get a table by the door – especially in winter. But the friendly staff warm you up, and so do some of the dishes. Normally, you can choose between three or five courses. The latter is preferable, but when the amuse-bouche enters you will think it’s the starter, given the size. It is pig’s cheek, paired with egg yolk, red beet cream and yellow beets. When the real starter lands on the table it takes the form of salmon, including its roe, potato cubes and crumbs of dark bread. It’s very good, even if it lacks a bit of saltiness. The house version of onion soup contains pieces of wheat bread that almost taste like sweetbreads! All this is swept up by the restaurant’s own unfiltered APA, whose bitterness matches the sweetness of the dish. The rest of the courses are paired with wine, preferably from the Piedmont. With the black sea bream we drink Arneis from Langhe that’s powerful enough to handle both the snails and pickled red onions included in the dish. Unfortunately, there are six or seven additional ingredients, making the preparation feel a tad overloaded. The lamb racks are presented as Baby Lamb, accompanied by a hefty piece of porcini mushroom, and parsnip purée. We receive a palette cleanser before the dessert – sea buckthorn sorbet with liquorice cream and subtle fennel strips. It’s complex and delicious enough to work as a stand-alone dish.
Pastis is the kind of French bistro we all dream of having nearby. The moment you step into its cosy bar and dining room a few steps down, you are transported to Paris and voila, it’s “la vie en rose”. In fact, the menu almost feels like a parody of French cuisine with frogs’ legs, snails, bouillabaisse and quenelles. But that doesn’t mean that the food lacks sincerity. Chef and owner Timo Linnamäki’s love for all things authentically French is deep, honest and appreciated. The crispy-fried, breaded frogs’ legs are tender and filling – we have not seen the like in many years – but perhaps we would enjoy them even more if they weren’t surrounded by so much eggplant caviar. But oh, the veal tongue! Served with a silky parsley root purée with a slightly mineral taste, and a deep red wine sauce seasoned with lovage, it is by far the best tongue we’ve ever bitten into. The wine list has a strong bias towards France, naturellement, but the selection is personal and the breadth is rather impressive for a restaurant of this size. The charming staff are happy to assist with their tips on good pairings. Finish with chocolate parfait and coffee with armagnac!
For nearly 20 years, Piaf’s Head Chef Marc Noël has served attractive plates with the gastronomic DNA of his childhood in southwestern France, a touch of Italian sensibilities regarding ingredients and seasonal herbs of central Jutland. The restaurant appears modest from the outside with an awning, a faded display case on the facade and a cast iron doorway – an appropriate symbol of the informal southern European style that characterises our visit. Noël welcomes us in as if we were his closest friends, as the tones of iconic French crooners such as Aznavour and Gainsbourg fill the room; the decor is stylish yet old-school with draped fabric tablecloths, fresh white roses and spotlessly polished, high-quality glasses. The fish dishes stand out during the evening’s seven-course programme. A cut of steamed turbot shines in the company of a crunchy garnish of julienned Granny Smith apple, salicorn, celeriac purée and a creamy beurre blanc with terse citrus. Textures and flavours cover the full gamut, complementing one another while also singing in their own right. The dish is washed down with a biodynamic Alsace riesling from Bott Geyl, whose mature fruit character interacts brilliantly with the richness of the beurre blanc. Noël’s presentations are informative and unpretentious, but never negligent. The maritime highlights of the meal also include a fried monkfish tail in a foam of Vildmose potato and drizzled with an intense ramson oil. The piquant, garlicky ramson balances the intense flavours of the crisp fried crust of the fish, as do the toast notes in the well-paired Burgundy from Leflaive. Beautiful and classic. The meat dishes and desserts round out the evening with a certain laid-back routine; precise preparations and top-shelf ingredients, but not that innovative. The sweet finale in particular, a moelleux au chocolat with chocolate sorbet and crème anglaise, was heavy on top, lacking both acidity and variation in texture.
Deep down in the jungle of Hegdehaugsveien lies a restaurant so Thai it even has official approval from The Office of Commercial at The Royal Thai Embassy saying that it’s very Thai. They even imported a playlist of that essential lounge music that could be played in any luxury hotel in Bangkok. But jokes aside, Plah is the very essence of Thai fine dining, rooted in Norwegian produce and inspiration, and it has been going strong for thirteen years. Chef Terje Ommundsen has managed to merge the cuisines of these two countries together in a way that is incomparable to anything else. Here you can sample the great tastes of Thailand, and everything is made on the premises from the ground up using only the finest of ingredients. Choose either a large tasting menu that mixes the different styles and regions of Thailand, or a vegetarian menu that is mainly inspired by the north. “Khao griab goong” – a dish of prawn crackers and fish sauce – starts off a serving of three small starters, soon followed by poached chicken in coconut and chillies. It’s not mouth-wateringly delicious, but a great start. The wait staff is great, with a perfect comeback after a slow-and-not-so-welcoming beginning, now they are as proficient as can be, explaining all the different ingredients and the idea behind each dish, pairing it with excellent wine, mainly from the classic regions of Europe. Unfortunately, the interior is a bit passé – and we honestly have no idea why a dressed-up manikin doll is hanging in a swing over our heads, but as soon as the next dish arrives we focus again on the food rather than the décor. The flavours are authentic and not too adapted to the Nordic palate. Plah neung follows – roasted hake in sour garlic and chilli sauce – a perfectly executed dish with a balance of sourness and spiciness. Our dessert, grilled coconut and rice with pineapple and malt sugar, is the highlight of our meal. We wish we were on a beach in Koh Chang instead of in windy, cold Oslo.
The casual dining side of well-renowned PM & Vänner is far from a scruffy little brother but a restaurant that stands strong on its own merits, and indeed, “bistro” may be an understatement. The comprehensive menu admittedly incorporates both French classics like steak minute and Småland blockbusters like three kinds of isterband sausage, but there are also considerably more refined dishes that, in terms of flavour, are like high level spin-offs from the mother ship in the room next door. One example is the delicious, gently baked char with sweet-sour pickled cauliflower, chanterelles, dill and an airy, caramelly brown butter emulsion. The meltingly tender pork belly from Olinge farm is more rustic in style but equally delicious. And, like everything served at this address, it is extremely wine-friendly. Just imagine what it’s like to have Sweden’s most knowledgeable wine geeks on the payroll. On our visit the beverages are brilliantly handled by Swedish sommelier champion John “Patjanga” Nilsson who guides us through the wine bible that makes every visiting wine enthusiast tremble with glee. The dessert, too, shoots well over the bistro target with a delicious pistachio and strawberry terrine, flanked by a small salad of orange-marinated strawberries, elderflower gelée and vanilla bavaroise, sprinkled with violets and marigolds. It is quite rare that “something for everyone” equals a culinarily interesting experience – but PM & Vänner Bistro delivers exactly that, every evening.
“Just like the good old times,”we overhear somebody just leaving the manor tell a friend.Their eyes get slightly misty, because memories of the good old times are an emotional thing. And even though everybody might not say itout loud, they’ll think it. The minimally renovated Põhjaka Manor is skilled at preparing the food and the drink and even at living the life that we remember from the good old times. Some of the fare is available for buying to take home, either at the manor itself orin well-stocked stores. The bread, pâté, liquors and upcoming new products are turning Põhjaka into a real manor. Just like manors used tobe.The dishes served at Põhjaka are the same ones offered in dozens of other restaurants. And homes. Smoked bream cream soup with quaileggorpan-fried pike perch with cottage cheese sauce andnew potatoes are easier than easy to make. But only at Põhjaka are they seasoned with a generous helping of the good old times. How else can those simple dishes stand out so much! An old gramophone stands in the corner and a collection of vinyls on the shelf. Anyone iswelcome to play the DJ and put on their favorite music. Strangely, the music playing at Põhjaka is often (good old?) glam rock. And it doesn't bother us. Instead, it makes the simple country food glam.
There is a wide range of restaurants in Copenhagen operating at altitudes just under the gourmet heavy hitters – Pony is one them. While they offer fewer elements on the plates, and the comfort and service are not quite as extravagant – the flavour is beyond reproach. We choose the changing four-course menu, dubbed “Pony Kick”, and a corresponding number of à la carte dishes to ensure a thorough exploration of the menu. The vegetarian starter is comprised of baked beetroot with fresh goat’s cheese, pickled mustard seeds and ramson capers generously sprinkled with freshly ground pepper. The salty cheese and acidic capers elegantly counter the sweetness of the tender beetroot – and had it not been for the earthy and bitter beetroot wafers, it would have been a perfectly balanced dish. The great flavours continue with thick slices of salted brill. The firm fish rests in a fiery horseradish cream, while the raw Brussels sprout leaves on top add juiciness and a touch of sweetness to the dish. The accompanying grüner veltliner from Arndorfer is an invitingly drinkable choice – as reflected by the one-litre bottle – whose palate-cleansing crispness goes particularly well with the sprouts. The wines are consistently natural wines, featuring small winemakers. A nest of Tuscan kale encircles an orange egg yolk confit, which flows nicely out into the sauce of reduced chicken stock split with parsley oil. The depth of the chicken stock is unforgettable – if Pony sold it to go, people would stand in line for hours to get their hands on it. A standout among the main courses is the flaked cod with a crystal-clear centre, served with baked, shrivelled Jerusalem artichokes and a subtle cream of cod roe reminiscent of the Swedish specialty, Kalles Kaviar. Our delight continues unimpeded throughout the evening, as we are treated to exemplary service by the team of waiters, who exhibit flexibility and a keen sense of each diner’s needs. Pony goes all-in on delicious cuisine, without digging deep into your wallet.
The room is more authentically Italian than a trattoria in Milano. That’s what you get when you use the best interior designers in Norway and the brief says, "Italian style". The wine list is naturally focused on Italy with bottles made by heroes of the non-interventionist wine world as well as more classic producers. The array of antipasti della casa varies every day; today we feast on bresaola with pine nuts and Jerusalem artichoke, salad with bread and capers, truffle tortellini and Parmesan crackers. For the main course we choose grilled boneless rib-eye served with roasted marrowbone and a good heap of butter. The food comes in vast amounts, and we seriously struggle to eat it all. The recommended skin macerated white from Friuli has a glorious orange sheen. A ravioli filled with oxtail is one of those dishes that everyone in Olso has had for lunch at least once. The fatty and gelatinised meat is perfectly tender and the deep taste of the broth makes this a dish worth returning for. The service is attentive in the beginning, but when the room fills up with guests it is harder to get the waiter’s attention. Trattoria Populare is a good place when you’re hungry for pasta, or if you just want to nibble on olives while drinking Tuscan rosé. The outdoor seating area is jammed full of people clambering for a glass of what in Norway is known as “utepils” (a beer outside) even though there is just a hint of sun peering out of the cloudy sky.
The “Love Stew” is heartwarming and seductive: a creamy egg foam surrounded by potatoes and onions shouldered by hearty dollops of Kalix bleak roe. It’s one of the tastiest things we’ve eaten at the city’s top restaurants this year. And the dish is in many ways typical of Klas Lindberg’s ambitious first effort. He is well known from competitions (Chef of the Year and Olympic Gold Medalist), but don’t expect any convoluted contest creations. Here Lindberg has sought out his inner chef – and he is apparently a sympathetic and downright uncomplicated guy. The style is mature and unpretentious with excellent ingredients and the cooking is precise. Dinner is a steady journey through culinary geography and restaurant history. The gastronomy takes no great leaps forward but cherished classics are tightened up. Many of the dishes are finalised tableside. A coarsely ground beef tartare made from dry-aged topside and tasting heavily of iron is mixed by the waiter’s nimble hands. It is simple and good along with flavourful friends in the form of cucumber and horseradish. The scallops get a quick pick-me-up in a red-hot cast iron skillet and are further enlivened by lemon, mushrooms and bottarga. And the sweet conclusion’s showpiece, Baked Alaska, gets a shower of flaming rum. Such flourishes in the dining room add as much to the experience and the taste as they do to the cosiness. A brilliant pork chop is elegantly rustic in its deliciously crunchy, breaded coat served along with sardines, potatoes, and onions in different textures and temperaments. Occasionally the aesthetics and the straightforward flavours are out of synch. The excellent chuck steak with béarnaise potatoes and smoked pearl onions is a welcome ruffling of this populist dish but it looks like a pretentiously arranged pile of leaves. Probably a vestige of all that competitive training. The setting is stylish, comfortable and well groomed – in that generic way that many modern restaurants are. The crowd is savvy and affluent. Some are dressed up, but most are smartly casual, which fits with the relaxed atmosphere. When it comes to what ends up in our glasses, sommelier Totte Steneby performs seamlessly. In a short time the wine experience here has established itself as one of the best and, in accord with the tone of the place, it’s knowledgeable but uncomplicated with a twinkle in the eye. At first glance the wine list is a string of world-renowned prestige players. It’s not cheap, but relax. The wines by the glasses are very good, and so is the whimsical selection of domestic beers. The latter works fine if you’re just there to hang in the bar. Be sure to try some of their snacks, like the tasty house-made version of pancetta and an airy duck liver mousse in bite-size format.
Listen to the murmur spilling out from the Postboxen wine bar and relax at the fine dining restaurant where every serving in the seven-course menu becomes a little adventure. We start lasciviously with seared scallops that melt in our mouths together with a lobster emulsion. Then, with a tart, fresh pumpkin from Vassmolösa paired precisely with a nutty chenin blanc, we are off on a taste journey – the Småland way. The broccoli is a surprise. It comes planed and dried paper-thin, in the form of a cream, and as a vinaigrette based on the stem, together with poached Swedish oysters, almonds, and horseradish snow. Beautiful. Sweetbreads with chicken mousseline, cream of local corn with sherry and black trumpet mushrooms together with the oxidized yet crisp white Rioja makes a sparkling combo. Chef Johannes Persson comes to the table and puts a knife in the perfect, pink, pan-fried venison from Kåremo, lying on a bed of twigs on a rustic cutting board, wilderness-style. That he is flying solo in the kitchen and yet gets everything out at exactly the right tempo to two crowded dining rooms suggests incredible control. Pure love comes out of the oven in the form of a syrup loaf based on grandmother’s recipe. It comes with lard flavoured with thyme and apple, and house-churned butter with cider-marinated mustard seeds. Served in a wooden box with four kinds of bread on straw, the bread serving is a dish in itself. The house apple juice from the juice press is like an exclusive wine. The Postgatan gang’s friendship and appetite for knowledge has led to strong gastronomic development since its inception two years ago. This is how crazy good Småland tastes!
Once you have sat down at one of the tables with red chequered tablecloths, just sit back. The kitchen is highly technically proficient, which means that the ingredients are handled perfectly. They also know a thing or two about flavour, which becomes evident the second the amuse-bouche lands: two dollops of a smooth purée of autumn apples and carrots topped with a few slices of cheese from Almnäs Bruk. These are flavours that immediately feel comfortable with each other. Several smaller producers from different parts of Sweden are represented. The cheese, for example, is from Hjo and the venison from Funäsdalen. Some of the ingredients can be bought in the shop in the same building. The menu is short and seasonal. Every evening there are also some extra dishes on the blackboard. “Menu surprise” is an affordable option with five dishes. We order it and are delighted by the variations on the vegetables served as sides, like creamed savoy cabbage, chanterelles and crispy fried potato pancake. The timing from the professionally friendly service staff is perfect. We feel neither rushed nor have to wait for long. In a nice way, we learn more about the farms that the cheeses or the meats come from. The wine list is relatively short and the staff are very helpful in selecting the appropriate option. The desserts keep to the same confident style. In fact, whoa, here come the 70s in the form of a dense and fresh raspberry mousse. Now that was a surprise! Proviant also has locations on Kungsholmen and Gärdet.
The Majorstua area of Oslo may not be the most restaurant-crowded part of town. Compared to similar neighbourhoods in Stockholm or Copenhagen, it’s more like the countryside, with lots of Range Rovers and not so many great places to dine. But you can find one or two pearls in this sea, one of them being this eminent local eatery. Opened almost a year ago, Publiko quickly gained a large following with a full house every day. Now things have settled down a bit, and we are starting to understand what the hype was all about; it’s simply great food. They describe themselves as a sustainable neighbourhood restaurant with playfulness in their cuisine, and the description is not far off. They serve good food using quality produce that doesn’t empty your bank account. The menu consists of four to five starters based on greens and seafood, and two to three main courses from the animal kingdom, all in season and in line with the current trend of serving not-too-big-dishes intended to be shared. The food is flavourful and well balanced, and not overly complicated. We try a variation on beets with Norwegian goat’s cheese, a dish more common in Norway today than shrimp cocktail was in the eighties. A dry-aged tartare with marrowbone, horseradish and tarragon makes our refined inner caveman cry from happiness, and a more modern take on the classic dish of “skreimølje” (skrei cod served with the liver and roe) is an instant classic that should replace the traditional recipe in every household. Add a small and fairly priced quality drink list with a notable focus on beer, and you’ve got yourself the neighborhood restaurant everyone dreams of having.
Fine dining is dead, declared Pubologi in autumn 2016 and exchanged their fixed menus for à la carte. Otherwise things are still the same at this cosy gastropub in the Old Town: the simultaneously humorous and atmospheric interior design; the large community table down the centre with a few small deuces along the walls; the suitcases suspended from the ceiling; the cutlery in the drawer under the table; and the resplendent red book with countless wines to immerse oneself in. But just because tasting menus are a thing of the past here does not mean we shall eat conventionally. Restaurateur Daniel Crespi’s hedonistic disposition calls for extravagance: “Start with a number of snacks, continue with at least two medium-sized plates, share and sample, and feel free to order different drinks with everything, and enjoy”. And we do. A bit of suet has melted down over the Tsarskaya oysters on the grill and been rounded off by tomato vinaigrette in a delicious balancing act. Equally good and fatty are the thinly sliced scallops in a brown butter fragrant with bergamot. We fall in love with the next buttery variation, with lovage and marrow, served with a tartare of topside energised by pickled onions and crunchy pistachios. Another butter, this time smoked, comes with the raw seared lobster and silky celeriac “tagliatelle”. This is paired with an equally buttery Meursault from Burgundy, which makes us long for more acid or maybe bitterness. The latter, however, we get in excess in a cabbage jus served with small pieces pork loin and flowersprouts. With grated dried char on top and tarragon cream the dish gets lost among the flavours and the impression is incohesive. We conclude with a fun dessert with dried apple and meadowsweet sorbet with a Mazarin almond base, but have to admit that we somewhat miss the fixed menu, even if the new concept actually suits the venue better.
Yummy or strange? Whimsical or just ridiculous? This is the kind of place you either love or hate. And if you are amused by attitude, gimmicks and music, with everything from Siw Malmkvist to Eddie Meduza at top volume, then you’ll have fun with these guys, Jocke Almqvist and Kalle Nilsson. Especially if you like smoke machines and childish fancies. As the menu’s name suggests (“Total Overdrive”), the initial flurry of snacks is epic and delivered at a breakneck pace. Colourful plastic water pitchers land on the table along with ice-cold Koskenkorva vodka, and a giant dollop of caviar to lick from the back of your own hand. We have left the gate. Our favourite is the small omelet that is prepared tableside and topped with crunchy deep-fried grated potato – then suddenly a big spoon is shovelled into our mouths with fried lobster, porcini cream and shaved black truffles – followed by rolls of red beets with camembert cream, even more truffles (this time white) and a delicious pancake made from reindeer blood topped with whitefish roe. The iconic butter-fried brioche, with a smiley drawn in rosehip cream on a round of foie gras mousse, served with a plastic duck. All this happens before the first real dish – a subtle and well-executed, punk-free scallop in a kombu broth with dill oil. The tempo and the staff's attitude are a big part of the proceeds. And behind the cheap tricks lurks a solid craftsmanship – a performance with 18-20 dishes requires meticulous control. Still, they manage to convey the illusion that most of it is plunked down on the table at random. Like the slightly absurd dish that is presented as “the classic shrimp tree” where raw shrimp cling to a burned broccoli stalk. Is it good or a parody? We do not know, but right then we do not care. The evening’s high note is a raw langoustine tail topped with cabbage and Spanish almonds – closely followed by the ingenious conclusion: butter-fried brioche with cinnamon roll ice cream and iced Swedish punsch. The punk boys know the limits – and that alone is worthy of praise. Next door, at Punk Royale Café, one can drop in more spontaneously.
Radio looks like the inside of a Scandinavian designer log cabin, with raw wood and large, empty windows facing out towards the iconic former home of the Danish Broadcasting Company’s radio studios – thus the name. The restaurant is the epitome of modern, healthy Nordic cuisine made with the season’s simple ingredients. We begin by feasting on rustic Øland wheat bread and an irresistible butter whipped with buttermilk and browned onion. Strips of Danish octopus are served with a creamy sauce of bakskuld (salted and smoked witch flounder), apple vinegar gelée, and grated egg yolk. A burnt leek adds a tad too much bitterness to this otherwise delicious dish with a good balance of richness, sweetness and acidity. Saltwater-poached cod with raw, marinated celeriac, celeriac purée, hay-cream, apple leather and toasted buckwheat seeds actually proves somewhat bland. Meanwhile, a 2015 aligoté from Meursault, fresh and acidic with a touch of butter, goes perfectly with the dish. Although also arriving in white and light hues, the next dish has a copious and fulfilling depth of flavour: baked Jerusalem artichokes with crisp pickled onion, a foamy sauce of Jerusalem artichokes and roasted almond butter for an added umami kick. A dark yellow 2005 riesling from Joseph Schmidt in Kremstal has a good age and is sufficiently stout to withstand the smoky richness of the Jerusalem artichokes. The cuisine is veg-intensive and many dishes resemble each other, following the formula of a root vegetable, a light sauce and a little bit of protein. It’s monotonous at times, but every dish shows careful consideration of balance and texture. Our waiters share their wonderfully nerdy enthusiasm for the wines and food, so we leave Radio wiser and with a comfortable lightness of body.
With over 100 Masters Level restaurants, the Nordic countries offer a wide variety of excellent culinary experiences. The Top 30 are all at the Global Masters level and they include some of the best restaurants in the world.