Dark bread. Strong cheese.
I found a few things to adore in Copenhagen. The rampant bicycle usage. The intoxicating friendliness of everyone I met. The abundance of blonde hair and blue eyes and big, burly, bearded Viking men.
But also, the bread. The dark bread, repeatedly punctured with a million seeds. I found this sandwich – smørrebrød – at a tiny restaurant with plenty of seating overlooking a canal. After a few days in Denmark, I could fudge reading a menu, grasping a few recognizable words: bread, cheese.
I ordered this, asking for a side of mustard. I was not prepared, however, for that translucent rectangle atop the cheese. Gelatinous, with an overwhelming presence of meat, I assumed this was birthed by beef broth. I tried a few bites, but the Jell-O texture and too-meaty flavor turned me against it.
But really, who needs more than cheese and bread anyway?