If you follow Dish and Drink, you’ll know that I spent my holiday’s in Copenhagen, Denmark, where my sister currently lives. And, if you follow global news, you’ll know that Copenhagen is regarded as one of the world’s best and most livable cities–complete with charming streets, impeccably mannered and manicured residents, and comprehensive punctual public transportation.
However, there is one thing that the country with the world’s happiest citizens doesn’t get quite right: the food.
Danish cuisine leaves something to be desired: it’s staples include hot dogs, dense Rugbrod (rye bread), pickled fish, and inordinate amounts of mayonnaise. And on top of that, it’s pricey too.
The grocery stores, rather than sexy, veritable food paradises to which I’m accustomed, are rather glum. Sad stacks of bagged sausages lay understocked in corner coolers. There’s only one kind of chip. Peanut butter is rare and unappreciated. Yikes. The most prolific of markets, Fakta, is therefore referred to by my sister and I simply as “The F-word.”
New York may be full of scrooges, abrasive street-yellers, and hurried inconsiderate commuters. Our trains may be late, and our busses dirty. But, boy, do we have some damn good food.
I’ll take those odds any day.