Aamanns-Copenhagen
If you’re into food, bicycles, and Scandinavian design, Copenhagen is the city for you. Or so I’ve heard. But even if Copenhagen isn’t on your itinerary, you can eat like you’re there by heading to Aamanns-Copenhagen in Tribeca. The restaurant, which finally opened on Thursday after a year’s delay (followed by hurricane-induced postponement), is an offshoot of chef Adam Aamann’s popular Copenhagen eatery that specializes in smørrebrød. (I am laughably incapable of pronouncing this word, and probably much of the Danish language). Smørrebrød is essentially an open-faced sandwich on buttered rye bread, topped with an assortment of meats, cheeses, fish, vegetables, and sauces. These sandwiches have a long history in Danish cuisine, beginning as a humble farmhand lunch in the 1840s, and evolving into elaborate fare at trendy restaurants a few decades later. In modern times it’s mostly eaten as a day-to-day lunch at home and in cafes, although Aamann’s restaurants are pushing the sandwich in a more artistic direction.
Fittingly for an upscale Scandinavian sandwich eatery, Aamanns-Copenhagen’s interior design is elegant but minimalist, with domed light fixtures casting a welcoming yellow glow over honey wood tables and white-painted brick walls. I eschewed the herring and infused akvavit menus and ordered a cocktail, an adaptation of a sidecar mixed with Akvavit and maple syrup. It was slightly over-sweetened, but sufficiently strong to knock the chill out of a wintery and subdued (for downtown New York) Friday evening. The restaurant was busy though, and after a bit of a wait for our smørrebrød I finally understood the aesthetic advantage of the open-faced sandwich. The toppings, instead of being hidden under unphotogenic bread, towered like ebullient food bouquets on slabs of coarse rye. The house-made bread was unlike any supermarket loaf–dense, but remarkably soft. I had expected a sturdier base for the mountainous fillings, but fortunately this was a strict fork-and-knife affair.
A breakdown of the meal follows:
Great: Beef tartare with herb emulsion, fresh tarragon, cornichons (pickles), capers, onion rings, and crispy potatoes. This was a shock since I’m not a tartare fan, but the flavors were so rich and engaging that I almost forgot I was eating raw meat. This was resoundingly the favorite at our table.
Good: Organic egg with shrimp, potato-dill mayo, and potato crisps; and pork breast braised with plums, honey, and balsamic vinegar served with lettuce, pear compote, fresh pear and walnuts. Both had interesting contrasts, with the pork leaning toward almost dessert-sweet.
OK: Roast beef sirloin with crispy onions, remoulade, and freshly grated horseradish. Despite the subtle spicy kick, it wasn’t as exciting as the others. I liked the crispy onions though.
Meh: Chicken salad with baked root vegetables, rapeseed mayo, and apple-celery salad. Anywhere else this would rate an “ok” but the problem is, you could get something like this anywhere else.
Dessert: Koldskål, a bowl of cold buttermilk served with a little pot of granola. This had a pleasing sweet-but-tart quality similar to a yogurt drink. Since I don’t like overly sweet desserts, and it was different, I enjoyed my rather spartan little bowl. That is, until I had a bite of the heavenly marzipan cake and I instantly wished I’d ordered that. Next time, I suppose.
When there would be a “next time” is the lingering question. The portions are small for $8-$9 apiece and I required three to make a meal out of it. I don’t think the prices are unjustified given the neighborhood and the execution, and if I’d had three of the quality of the beef tartare it would’ve been worth it–particularly if I were looking for bar nibbles or lunch as opposed to dinner. My interest in Danish sandwiches was definitely piqued though, and since Aamanns-Copenhagen is the only restaurant in New York City specializing in Danish fare, this is where I’m going to get my smørrebrød fix. Now if I could only learn to say it correctly.
Aamanns-Copenhagen
13 Laight St. between Varick St. and Sixth Ave.
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