Kagges: restaurant review and a big reason for travel

On our last night in Stockholm, we went to Kagges, a year-old restaurant in Gamla Stan. It opened in 2017 and was recently awarded a Bib Gourmand, a well-regarded honor also bestowed by Michelin. One of my New Orleans cousins had suggested we go; coming from a serious eater like he is, I'd immediately made a reservation and am so glad I did.

As soon as we walked into the tiny spot, with seven seats at the bar directly in front of the kitchen and perhaps ten other tables, we felt relaxed and at home. Given the choice, you won’t be surprised to know that we chose to sit at the bar. Tom ordered an IPA crafted by a brewery in Stockholm, and I started with a glass of cold Albariño recommended by the hostess/sommelier. We were brought the most sublime bread -Tjockbulla, made primarily of mashed potatoes; it hails from the chef’s small town- and smoked butter. I could have eaten 97 of the magnificent rounds. And we also got a darling amuse bouche- tender potato rounds with some ridiculous roe mousse and nasturtium leaves. Divine.

We decided to each order the Kagges choice, the four best dishes of the day, and were not disappointed!

Smoked and lightly charred cabbage with a Swedish creme fraiche (from one farm 100 km away; this was the airiest, creamiest, velvety'est creme ever and one of the chefs told me the taste changes with the seasons as the cows eat more or less grass! How cool is that?!) and lots (!) of roe and brown butter.

A tomato salad with two forms of the same Swedish cheese (one fresh, one aged) and lots of fresh herbs.

Cured mackerel with some sort of incredible potato cream that had been put into a whipped cream dispenser and frothed out plus salad.

And guinea fowl with bone-broth gravy (OMG!) and more salad, this one with a shallot-lemon vinaigrette to die for. "An hour on the shallots and then lemon zest and juice. Then butter, not oil" I was told.

At this point, I was extremely tipsy in the happiest, friendliest way and had been chatting with the three chefs extensively about all their methods and recipes and hometowns and such. I mentioned to one that the bone gravy was so good I could lick my plate. He reached over to the utensil rack and handed me a spatula. Is that not marvelous?

That right there tells you everything you need to know about Kagges. It wasn't as perfect as Ekstedt in terms of the food (although I have no complaints), but it managed to be seriously delicious and dedicated while not taking itself too seriously. I asked the chef who gave me the spatula while telling me about his hometown and managing several stations including a salamander how he seemed so unfettered and calm. "It's all about being from the forest," he said, and for some reason that made absolute sense to me. He said Stockholmers were busier and could be intense (meanwhile, this American from DC felt like the whole of Scandinavia was on some sort of relaxing agent, bless them!) but that being from the forest made him totally tranquil.

Meanwhile, the couple at the other end of the bar from us ^^ seemed to be enjoying their meal as much as we were and had also provided helpful translation regarding degree of bitterness in a "bitter beer" Tom was considering earlier in the meal. It make me feel happy to see everyone in Kagges so satisfied.

I asked Kalle, the main chef/one of the owners if I could take his and his team's picture (there are only five of them total and one had the night off), and they said "Sure, come back here with us."

Kalle, the guy from the forest, another forester and the one who told me about the shallot/lemon/butter vinaigrette, happy Em, and the hostess/sommelier. Is this not a fantastically fun photo?

As I headed back around the bar, I got to talking with that couple. It both helps and is enormously humbling that most everyone in Europe can speak English so well, and next thing I know they've asked if we want to go out for an after-dinner drink with them. Despite our having a 5:45am wake-up call and the man needing to work the next day, we said heck yes! So, Tom, Helen, Per, and I settle our checks and wander through the not-dark-but-late night to a bar with outdoor tables where we got beers (wholly unnecessary for me but really, you only live once). I swear I think we were outside the restaurant before we properly introduced ourselves. 

They are the most delightful people, and Helen and I are already planning to mail each other seeds from our garden. We talked about politics in our respective countries and travel and welcoming people into our lives, and after Tom and I bid them farewell and began walking home, I thought once again about how food draws people together and gives us opportunities to meet and connect with others in ways we wouldn't otherwise have. 

The world is so big, and it is an enormous gift to get to visit parts of it, to meet folks from places I'd never heard of until I met them, to swap recipes and stories, to learn about their families and travels and education and interests. Thank you, Helen and Per, for the generosity of your time and company.

At the airport, Tom noticed that my passport was the thick one, the one with extra pages. He chuckled, and I said I ordered those because of hope and adventure. Although we didn't fall deeply in love with any place on this recent trip, we are bigger and better for having gone and experienced a different way of so many things. America is falling the fuck apart right now. It's wrenching and horrid, but the world is big and full of wonderful people, and I find some peace in that. 

København

We arrived in Copenhagen early on the morning of the 5th and have been going full steam ahead since. The weather has been spectacular, a wonderful reprieve from the steaming pea soup we left behind in DC. 

For most of the first day we walked around getting our bearings and enjoying the Danish Design Museum. We are staying in the Latin Quarter, across the street from the University of Copenhagen. Founded in 1479, it is one of the oldest in Europe, and the main building is quite beautiful. 

the University of Copenhagen

The Design Museum was undergoing some (seemingly needed) renovation but we very much enjoyed the 20th century and Danish Design Classics exhibits. There was a fascinating film on Børge Mogensen, the famed Danish furniture maker, and an eye-popping collection of all the Danish chairs that inspired mid-century design and (many of which) remain beloved and revered. One of the coolest things I learned was the great degree to which Danish artists and designers were influenced by Japanese art, especially the way nature was expressed and honored through it. 

On a wall outside the Danish Design Museum: what remains after some of the ivy was stripped from the wall. I just love this.

Dinner on day 1 was at Aamann's 1921, a warm, stylish place whose chef, Adam Aamann, has updated the humble smørrebrød, an open-faced rye-bread sandwich traditionally loaded with mayo and meat, to a refined dish with more vegetables and herbs. Now known as the King of Smørrebrød, Aamann also makes the soaps for the restaurant bathrooms, and seemingly everything in between.

Our meal was a beautiful one but not terribly memorable; most dishes, including both our smørrebrøds (see the salmon one below), needed salt. But the service was impeccable, the ambiance inviting, and two of our choices, the BBQ ribs of free-range port, new onions, and rocket sauce, and the potato compote with pine shoots, gooseberries, onion, and bacon, were marvelous. 

Yesterday we started with a three-hour bike tour around Copenhagen which was really helpful in knocking out a number of sights in a single, educational way, and it was fun. Like Amsterdam, Copenhagen is a major biking city. The Little Mermaid? Check. Amalienborg, home of the Danish royals? Check. Churches and harbors? Yep. Plus the Free State of Christiania,  excellent history and exercise. 

^The Little Mermaid (Den Lille Havfrue) and the view of Frederiks Kirke from Amalienborg.^ 

^clockwise from top left: Nyhavn (New Harbor); the amazingly cool spire atop Vor Frelsers Kirke; my first snegle; a croissant (Denmark is known for its pastries).^

^the Free State of Christiania, a commune with delineated borders inside of Copenhagen. Though residents (~800) were once excused from paying taxes, they now do. Though you are really not allowed to sell marijuana in Copenhagen, the police seem to have given up enforcing the rules within Christiania. The only thing banned on Pushers' Row is taking photographs. It's a neat place although sadly, the original hippie ideals are giving way to drug-based crime and a rather impoverished life within (according to our guide).^

Last night was dinner at Amass. But "dinner" does the experience an injustice, so I'll write about Amass in a separate post. Go there if you can!

And today was a ridiculously fun day that proved over and over again that travel is the greatest education and opportunity for truly memorable experiences, that spontaneity, flexibility, and following your nose often result in magic, and that following your passions (specifically today: design and food) is always a win.

It involved a return trip to Refshaleøen, an island in Copenhagen's harbor (and where Amass is located), to spend the day eating and drinking through Reffen, an outdoor Copenhagen street food market built from repurposed shipping containers. There are food trucks, all manner of juice and alcoholic beverage, some art and idea labs, and a delightful vintage market. Due to a major finding at said vintage market, the day also involved renting bikes to head back into Christianshavn, the nearest neighborhood with an ATM, then biking back to Refshaleøen and getting a bit distracted by the Sweden-England game which required another beer and lots of cheering, then going to the market only to find it closed but determinedly banging on the door until the delightful Danish proprietor let us in with a gentle smile and an "I'd given up on you." I then explained the bike rentals and rides to and from Christianshavn, but not the half-drunk beer in my hand (sorry Sverige), to which he replied, "Oh, that is far. Well, let's pack it up."

watching the game in Reffen

The rest of that story, which includes a delightful encounter on the metro afterwards, will be detailed tomorrow. But for now, some final photos from Reffen which was utterly delicious and fun in every way.

That pulled pork sandwich was one of the single best things I have ever eaten anywhere. Also, three cheers for Jacobsen IPA and also Nørrebro's Bombay IPA. 

Less than a day to savor Portland, and savor it we did!

Praise be, I have my blog back. The country doesn't have sanity back, but a lot of folks are fighting the good fight. We in Maryland voted today. Here's hoping for a blue tsunami in November.

Anyway, Portland (Maine). After Tom and I left the boys last Friday afternoon, we drove back to Portland. Our flight home left at 2p on Saturday, so we figured we had 19 hours, including sleep time, to enjoy the city. 

This limited amount of time was an excellent challenge. And, as we were childless, we had no need for schedule and every opportunity for spontaneity. Time to be spontaneous is the stuff of dreams, y'all, an all-too-rare thing for many parents.

We checked in, showered and changed, and headed out to dinner. Tom wanted to go to Eventide Oyster Co, and I wanted to try Duckfat, so we decided to go to both. We walked past Duckfat first so grabbed two seats at a communal hightop and ordered a large cone of fries with truffle ketchup and garlic mayo and two beers. 

Duckfat fries and an Oxbow beer

Duckfat is a casual, cozy spot with big plate glass windows facing Middle St. It seems to be a neighborhood joint, the sort you'd love to be able to stroll to on any given evening. The energy was just right, our waiter friendly and helpful, and we totally enjoyed everything.

processing the goodbyes and realizing that our six-week childfree date would really be fun

After finishing the last fry, we settled up and headed down the street to Eventide. The wait was at least an hour, but because we had all the time in the world, we said, "Sure, put us on the list!" and headed next door to The Honey Paw, an Asian fusion restaurant run by the Eventide crew (chefs Andrew Taylor and Mike Wiley won Best Chef: Northeast in the James Beard Awards last year). We snagged two spots at the bar (our favorite place to perch) and ordered the charred broccolini with szechuan pepper and peanuts and the halibut crudo with rhubarb, lemon, micro greens, and fried shallots. More beer, too.

The bartender was an arse, but the broccolini was so good it prompted us to immediately begin researching woks so that I can attempt to recreate the dish asap. The crudo was delicate and utterly lovely though not the showstopper that its vegetable peer was. As we finished up, Eventide texted to let us know a table was available, but full, we declined and decided to go for lunch the next day.

Instead, we walked around and while I blissfully perused a fabulous bookstore, Sherman's, Tom got gelato. I spent a full hour just wandering the stacks, reading book jackets and blurbs in leisurely fashion, and relishing the fact that no one and nothing was hurrying me or asking for my attention. It was deeply lovely, and I feel this must absolutely be so good not only for my soul but also for my brain.

The next morning, we started with coffee at Bard. While we'd slept and lazily gotten ready, seemingly half of Portland had run a half marathon. Some of the early finishers were at Bard too, plus several parents with young kids still in jammies, and a few folks with newspapers. Like Duckfat, it felt totally local. We usually drink Hairbender espresso roasted by Stumptown. Bard's espresso was softer and a bit sweeter, but I liked it quite a bit.

latte at Bard

After coffee it was time to mosey down to The Holy Donut, a popular spot whose donuts include mashed potatoes in the dough. True to claim, the potatoes add both moistness and a soft crumb to the handcut donuts, and I could see why the line snaked through the store and out the door. Also, more marathoners, and really, they deserved treats! We got the dark chocolate sea salt and also a fresh lemon. I am a total sucker for chocolate cake donuts, and indeed, that was my absolute favorite. Also, I love The Holy Donut's give-o-meter (see photo below).

As we still wanted to eat at Eventide before making our way to the airport, we decided to walk off some calories. There are some great art spots, shops, and vintage stores in Portland, and we also discovered a fantastic flea market, the Portland Flea-for-all. With the clock ticking and room made in our stomachs, we headed back to Eventide and, wait for it, got a spot at a bar rail (not a bar, but a bar rail where you could stand up and eat). 

In short order we chose the brown butter lobster roll, the fried oysters with succotash and creole dressing (sadly I did not get a photo), a wild fermented dry cider, and one of the daily specials, a cherry tomato salad with nuoc cham, cucumbers, and shiso. HEAVEN. Utterly delicious, all of it. 

STOP! Just look at that steamed bun and gorgeous lobster salad and those perfect chives.

absurdly good

the PERFECT accompaniment to the food; drink this if you can find it!

Truly, I would order every single one of those dishes on a regular basis if I could. Every bite was a revelation of flavor and pleasure. 

Unfortunately we did have to return our rental car and catch our flight, so we settled up and made our way to the airport.

I really liked the city. I witnessed a lot of kindness there and a wonderful sense of activism, healthful living, and pride. Mom and I are taking a road trip in August to go get the boys and bring them home, and I've dedicated a day to Portland. You can be sure we'll return to some of these spots!