This article is part of FT Globetrotter’s guide to Copenhagen
Koan, with its exquisite and expensive 17-course tasting menu, is the epitome of Copenhagen fine-dining. Within weeks of opening in April 2023, it had won two Michelin stars at the hands of owner and head chef, Kristian Baumann. Born in Korea but raised in Denmark, he combines the two cuisines to dazzling effect. But there’s an intensity to both him and his restaurant that could either thrill or discomfit diners. Or perhaps both.
The restaurant is well out of the city centre, slightly north of the Little Mermaid sculpture. The evening I dine there, the entire waterfront is cloaked in fog, making the entrance into its clean Nordic interior feel particularly cinematic. When I arrive at around 6.30pm, there are more staff than diners, and with table space for about 25 people, the ratio is never particularly restored. The kitchen is completely open; the grill, the fridges and the sink are all visible alongside the chefs working in something of a hushed reverence.
As a guest of Koan, I’m soon sipping a refreshing champagne from Ulysse Collin with a quintet of pretty little amuse-bouches. They set the tone for the rest of the evening, merging Nordic seafood with Korean flavours in a highly sophisticated package, presented by a smiling Baumann. Most have delicate floral and tart flavours with my favourite being a calamansi, a Philippine citrus fruit, filled with cured egg yolk, trout roe and wasabi.
Baumann, who worked at Noma before setting up the more casual 108 that closed during the Covid-19 pandemic, explains that Koan is a deeply personal project, marrying his birthplace with his adopted home. “Korean guests say, ‘There are so many flavours we know, but others we don’t know.’ And the Danish guests are the same,” he adds. It’s demonstrated in the next two dishes. The first is a mandoo (fried Korean dumpling) of well-spiced pepper pork with a more neutral sauce made from mussels and gochugaru, a mild Korean chilli. The second is an unusual cold-noodle ensemble, made from lobster heads served with a broth of lobster claw and sudachi, a Japanese citrus fruit. The first is rich and powerful, the second highly delicate.
But my delight is accompanied by an uneasiness. My colleague Tim Hayward has previously noted Koan’s habit of upselling champagne — on top of the tasting menu (DKr3,300/$470/£370) and wine pairings (from DKr1,800/$255/£200) — and I’m only too aware of the criticism that has been levelled at the city’s fine-dining establishments and their working conditions in recent years.
Last year, Baumann faced allegations from TV2, a Danish TV station, of creating an atmosphere of fear and unhappiness among employees in his pursuit of perfection. There’s certainly a deep earnestness to him and his chefs, but he says he has taken steps to improve working conditions while making them transparent to guests through the open kitchen. Koan is only open for dinner four nights a week, and Baumann refuses to use stagiaires, paid or unpaid, something Noma has been accused of overly relying on. He also underscores how long many of his workers have been with him. There are no easy answers to the debate, but it is a side of fine dining that more guests should perhaps reflect on. At the same time, there’s little getting away from the fact that the food is both special and delicious.
Next up is one of Koan’s signature dishes: a pretty white kimchi, made from kohlrabi. It’s certainly unlike any kimchi I’ve tasted, and is frankly too subtle for me, although the umami tones of the broth of herbs and elderflower oil are tastier. It’s a dish, though, that Baumann is particularly proud of, and is served in a bowl that combines pieces of Ming and Qing pottery with modern Korean porcelain.
Meanwhile, the music — a mixture of melodic pop and indie music that builds in intensity — gets loud for a Michelin venue. (Baumann later tells me it should have been louder still as he doesn’t like guests whispering to one another, but that some customers had asked for it to be turned down.)
It’s impossible to escape a Copenhagen fine-dining meal without a caviar course — or two, or even three — but the one at Koan is probably the best I’ve eaten. Tofu seasoned with pine nuts is served with langoustine, dried strawberries and goji berries, and topped with caviar. Two more highlights follow swiftly. The bread course is again tweaked in a novel way, as kkwabaegi: a twisted doughnut covered in pine salt, and served with whipped double cream. It has a deep-fried deliciousness, and I’m not surprised to hear Baumann say that Rasmus Munk — head chef of the showy Alchemist — once ate seven of them in a row. What comes next is even better: the classic Korean blood sausage, its richness and spiciness offset with dried blackcurrants.
Accompanying all this food, I have selections from all four drink menus, and especially enjoy the non-alcoholic choices such as a yuzu vermouth and a Japanese green tea, while struggling slightly with the sool, or fermented rice drinks, apart from a fabulous Korean rice whisky. The latter accompanies another rich course of rib-eye beef and kimchi, in which the meat is particularly tasty. At this stage, I hear a neighbouring table almost begging for dessert, but there are two final savoury dishes to come. Both are based on rice, the first served with toasted beechnuts, fried anchovies and winter truffle, and accompanied by a sensational langoustine tail covered in chilli; the second involves a rice porridge, served with a lobster sauce and Norwegian scallop.
The first dessert is a palate cleanser, like an upscale, complex granita made from a sorbet of combawa, an Asian citrus, and a sauce from its leaves. A soufflé made from milky oolong tea is warm with a crispy top and mushy inside, and comes with a lovely toasty ice cream made from roasted seaweed, topped perhaps predictably with caviar. It is wonderful, but I’m frankly relieved that there is just a quartet of petits fours to go. It’s a classy end to one of Copenhagen’s best, and most thought-provoking, dining experiences. Langeliniekaj 5, 2100 Copenhagen. Website; Directions
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