Firstly, let me introduce myself. I’m Livi, an illustrator from Hertfordshire in the U.K. I spend my days drawing maps, food and children’s books. You can see more of my illustration work here. I love my job and adore food illustration, so expect the odd drawing to appear on this blog.
I’ve been ‘umming and erring’ over what to write for my first blog post. It was my hollow-legged boyfriend, who just looked at me blankly when I was tearing my hair out and said, ‘Write about Copenhagen.’
Well, of course… We only got back last weekend. Why on earth didn’t I think of it before! So, here goes…
Copenhagen had been high on my list of ‘dream mini-breaks’ for a while but its costly reputation made me hesitant. But once Aaron & Bryce Dessner teamed up with Mikkel Borg Bergø and Claus Meyer to create Haven, a food, art and music festival, my boyfriend and I knew we couldn’t pass up such a perfect opportunity to see the city.
And oh what a city! I was completely taken (perhaps quite predictably) with the beautiful architecture, charming multi-coloured streets and plethora of bicycles. But I’ve got to be honest with you, I gave my heart to a loaf of Rugbrød. I fell head-over-heels for the stuff. ‘The stuff’ being a sourdough-based rye bread, low in fat and packed with fibre and nutrients. (I will be baking a loaf very soon, once I manage to source some rye kernels…) It’s absolutely delicious. I first tried it at Atelier September, accompanied by a soft-boiled egg, ribbons of Comté cheese and, of course, butter.
Next on my list of earth-shatteringly-delicious-things is the Høj Snegl, which I’ve since learnt means ‘high snail.’ I really didn’t need another reason to love these tall, chocolate and cinnamon pastries but there we go.
However much I loved the High Snail, in truth, it wasn’t the pastry I’d been fantasising about in my daily 11 am cravings. This pedestal had been reserved for the kanelsnurrer.
Now, we can all appreciate the wonder of a cinnamon roll but I simply haven’t eaten a pastry quite like a kanelsnurrer in the UK. They’re so very different from their saccharine American cousins. There’s something reassuring and comforting about their perfectly imperfect rustic forms. No need for cream cheese icing here, they’re delicious just as they are. Serve warm with a strong coffee.
(I’m pretty determined to try and recreate the buttery cinnamon scented hug of the kanelsnurrer soon. Watch this space.)