The name of the secret drug was Giro del Sapore. It’s Italian for “a tour of flavours” and was an introduction to three Italian sister restaurants in one evening. Starters and snacks at Acquamarina (fish & seafood), a taxi to have the first course(s) at L’Altro (rustic “homecooking”) and finally a hazy walk down to Era Ora (Michelin star-studded), where the main course, cheese, desserts (yes there were two!) and coffee with sweets were served. Quite a challenging evening but in a very lazy way.

When we first made our booking, we had no idea how the concept would unfold and as the date grew closer, we started guessing and plotting: “Will it feel like one long sales pitch?”, “Will we have to talk to other people?”, “Would they mind it if we brought Tupperware for the leftovers?” So by the time we arrived, we were kind of expecting it to be like the first dinner at the inlaws’, complete with sooo-what-do-you-do-for-a-living’s, awkward clanging of glasses against plates and screeching cutlery.

But boy were our indulgent prejudices put to shame! Never again will I question the eternal niceness of other food lovers. Or the wisdom of Nicky (Delicious Days), who said that she somehow always really clicked with other foodies. It was a bit like being in Babette’s Feast, where a heavenly meal had the power to unite a crusty old congregation, only all of us played the part of the general who was able to identify the meal as the masterpiece of a well known chef. Anyway, enough of Karen Blixen and her crusty bits. Let’s jump straight to dessert.

Nikolaos Strangas, dessert chef at Era Ora, where have you been all my life? I want to have your baby! If not for any other reason, then for you to relieve me of my fancy pastry cravings while I’m preggers. Hell, with the rate I’ll be slugging down the cakes, I won’t be needing a baby to get a bump growing. Or maybe I should just kidnap you and lock you in my basement with state of the art kitchen gear (but only rubber knives – I’m no fool) and let you slave away all day. No, I would neeeever do that. Promise. I’ll content myself with a pitstop at his newly opened Cake-Away on Åboulevarden 7 in Copenhagen. Have already made advances to the lovely ladies Kerry and Louise, so maybe I will be able to behave after all. But wait – haven’t even mentioned the desserts yet. Bad girl!

After my encounters with the Nordic approach to desserts at noma, AOC and Dragsholm Slot, I have started missing a bit of oomph at the end of my meal. Maybe it’s because I’ve mostly had lunch at those places, but the desserts have always had a certain lightness and delicacy to them that keep me wanting more, even needing to order petits fours just to make sure I had my chocolate orgasm at the end. My point is, that even if we were pampered with coffee sweets at Era Ora (the first picture) they weren’t necessary to finish me off.

The first dessert was a scoop of blood orange sorbet on a bed of cookie crumble and a smooth blob of panna cotta flavoured only with a cone shaped sugar type called “panella”. A very well balanced dish with the tart sorbet refreshing the palate after the cheeses, the crumble adding sound and texture and the panna cotta indicating the more indulgent style of the following dessert.  Next up was a kind of thick chocolate wave on top of which were placed a scoop of sweet licorice sorbet, a square of mocha cream on a thin cake and some more crunch.  Very easy on the eyes, not too heavy on the tummy and very satisfying on the taste buds. Finally, we had a tray of little treats to go with the coffee: Soft and dense chocolate truffles, tiny carrot cakes (not my choice for that setting) and differently flavoured marshmallows with the perfect bite to them: (as far as I could tell) Blackcurrant, salty licorice and passion fruit all of which were my favourite. In fact I can’t wait to try using blackcurrant in my marshmallows the next time.

So, my dear readers. The moral of this story is: If you have yet to make a New Year’s resolution, make it to try Nikolaos’ little pieces of art before 2012. And now: Time for some sleepy eye.

As you can see from the three posts in the link, I have never fully mastered the art of the perfect icing, but when I saw the Danish tv-show called “Det søde liv“, I had to give it another go. Now, if you look at the icing, it’s almost uncannily white and fluorescent. Toothpaste couldn’t have made a whiter result and it’s all in one tiny detail: The beating.

Blomsterberg’s Classic Kransekage (makes 8)

This recipe is entirely from the talented pâtissier Mette Blomsterberg. You can find it here in Danish, but I have also taken the liberty of translating it, cutting it in half and adding a tiny tweek of my own.

Cakes

• 250 grams pure marzipan
• 100 grams fine cane sugar
• 50 grams egg whites (I used the pasteurised kind, so I can’t say how many regular ones it would take, but in Denmark you need the pasteurised kind for the icing anyway).
• The grated zest of half an organic lemon

Icing

• 50 grams icing sugar
• a drop or two of pasteurised egg whites

Mix the egg whites and the cane sugar well and let it sit for about an hour while the sugar dissolves. Mix it into the marzipan along with the lemon zest by hand or spoon, a little bit at the time until you have an even mixture. Spoon it into a piping bag and spray onto a lined baking tray in your preferred size (a good bite size is approx 5 cm long and 2 cm wide) with plenty of space in between. Leave them to dry for 30 mins, turn the oven on to 200 degrees Celcius and then adjust the shape with a finger dipped in water so it doesn’t stick. Bake them until they’re golden, about 8-10 mins depending on the size. Leave to cool completely.

Meanwhile, beat the icing sugar and a bit of egg white fluffy with an electrical mixer or a very energetic hand. Make sure the texture is smooth but still firm enough to keep its shape. Fold a piece of  baking paper into a thin cone, pour in the icing and cut a tiny snippet from the tip of the cone. Then decorate your “kransekager” as you like and leave to air dry for a while. Enjoy with some creamed grandma coffee and make sure you keep that pinky finger erect while lifting the frail porcelain cup. That’s part of the game.

Okay, so I’ve had this amazing New Year’s post planned for quite some time now where I finally give you the recipe for the traditional Danish New Year’s kage “Kransekage” (above left and partly on the right too) that I’ve shown you only in the shape of a picture for the last two years. But then January happened and I’ve done nothing about it so far. That’s why I’m giving you, my supposed readers, the chance to interact and change the course of history. I will post the pictures of my New Year’s cake below and the recipe will follow, but ONLY ON DEMAND!!! How about that for a tempting offer? Anyway, looking forward to seeing if you’re still out there and as curious as ever. Ready? Here we go (I won’t be waiting by the computer, no I won’t. But maybe I’ll finally sort out my desktop while I’m here, you know? Delete my unnecessities and all of those “Linx_ 2_ kool_ stuff.doc” things crowding my workplace. While I’m at it, maybe it’s time to exchange the picture of Matt Damon on a bear skin for something more 2010, say that pale guy from “Twilight”, no wait, that Malibu Ken dude from “New Moon” getting out of the water. Yes! That’s what I’ll do. But don’t mind me. Just post a comment if you want me to fill in the blanks between these pictures.)

UPDATE: It seems there’s a genuine demand for the kransekage-recipe in New York (thanks for a great evening with your really nice friends and your dad’s turtles Sarah!), so here it goes:

Kransekage (12 people)

Recipe adapted from this original

Cake

• 500 grams of marzipan
• 200 grams of icing sugar
• 1 egg white
• 25 grams of chopped almonds (optional – I like the bit of bite it adds)
• 1 tbsp freshly ground espresso beans OR 1-2 tsp lemon zest

Icing

• 250 grams of icing sugar
• 1 pasteurized egg white

Mix all of the ingredients for the cake well - with your hands, yes, get them in there and down and dirty. If you just found a rock where you thought your soft marzipan was, try grating it first. That usually does the trick. The espressoed version makes for a grainy texture and rustic look as you might be able to tell from these pictures – as well as gives a good kick to an otherwise very sweet experience. The lemon zest version on the other hand is much more perfumed and delicate. Anyhoolahoop, after you’ve kneaded the marzipan, sugar, egg white, almonds and espresso/lemon zest put it in a plastic bag and leave it in the fridge for 3-4 hours.

Turn on the oven to 225 degrees Celcius. Take out the mixture from the fridge, sift a bit of flour onto a clean table and roll it into long, 1,5 cm thick “sticks”. Then cut them into separate sticks with alternating lenghts, 8 cm, 12, 16, 20, 24 etc. Depending on how small you want the top layer of the cake to be, you can also start at 6 cm. And now comes the fun part – it’s play dough time. Connect each stick with its own end to create circles. You might need to smooth out the joint with a tiny bit of water. When all of the circles are done, put two fingers on the inside and a couple on the outside of each ring and gently press them down and up so it gets a flat bottom and a narrow top. That way when you layer the rings, the transition between them will be nice and gradual as it should be – but hey, I don’t expect all of you to be that anal. And finally – always stack the rings to match the size before you place them on two baking trays with plenty, and I mean PLENTY of space in between. Bake them for 8-10 mins and leave them to cool completely before you make the icing.

The above measures make a lot of icing, so if you’re not into a laced-over cake, you can also make half and there’ll be enough to go around. Put the icing in a piping bag or a plastic bag with a tiny hole. Then decorate the rings as you like and make sure to finish off with a circle of icing as glue between the layers. Then stack the layers before the icing sets and leave them to dry completely. And – you’re done (literally).

Just to show you how a “kransekage” looks, when it hasn’t been on the floor…(compare to previous New Year’s eve-post here).

And while I’m at it: Happy New Year and welcome to 2009! Hopefully it’ll be a year filled with heavenly mouthfuls.

On the metro I nearly strained an unmentionable muscle or two trying to rescue the sucker from certain doom. Lo and behold if it didn’t make it in one piece to the party only to be knocked off the table shortly before this picture was taken.

At least now I know why we chose to make these sturdy fellows for an alcohol infested evening such as this… Happy new year people!