February Bites
Ocean Season at Noma
Hello, Delicious: The Noma Edition
I usually document my cooking and dining adventures on Instagram Stories, but since those disappear after 24 hours, I wanted to create something more lasting—an archive of my favorite eats to share with you all. Enter Hello, Delicious!, my new blog series where I round up the best meals, recipes, and food finds.
Most weeks are routine: meal prepping salads and bowls, making salmon and veggies for dinner. But within the ordinary, there’s always an exceptional dish or restaurant worth sharing. And then there are weeks like last week, when I found myself in Copenhagen, dining at Noma.
The first installment is longer, to give deserved attention to what it’s actually like to eat at Noma—for all the curious food lovers and inquiring minds out there. As the series evolves, I’ll refine things along the way, so drop any questions, thoughts, or suggestions. I’d love to hear them!
Dining at Noma
The Noma Experience
February was filled with great meals, but dining at Noma was an experience of a lifetime. After a disappointing visit to Single Thread a few months ago, I was ready for my next big culinary adventure.
As you may know, the Noma we know today is closing at the end of Ocean Season this year. I had floated the idea of dining there to my husband, who—being the hero he is—woke up at 4:00 AM on reservation day to battle the internet and Noma hopefuls for two hours before securing our spot.
Noma’s menu rotates through three seasons: Forest & Game Season, Vegetable Season, and Ocean Season. We landed an Ocean Season reservation, meaning no reindeer brains for us—just lots of beautiful and locally sourced seafood (my favorite).
We took what we could get: a 5:30 PM reservation on a random Wednesday in February. When I say I travel to eat, I really mean it. After booking flights, a few other dinner reservations and our hotel rooms at the Villa Copenhagen, which I 100% recommend, we were off to Denmark.
A quick note on picking additional restaurants in Copenhagen. Noma has left its footprint on the restaurant scene here. At countless restaurants and bakeries, you’ll commonly find Noma alum running their own casual, fine dining restaurants and bakeries. Some standouts for us were Rosio Sanchez’s taco eateries and of course, Hart Bageri.
Richard Hart (known for popularizing sourdough bread in America), was head baker at Tartine in San Francisco (another fun connection) and then moved to Denmark to bake for Noma. He now has many bakeries in the city and while b.Patisserie’s kouign amann still reigns supreme for me, I’ve not had and probably will not have a better pastry than the cardamom bun at Hart Bageri. A must visit if you are making the trek to Copenhagen.
The Pre-Dinner Build Up
I’ve debated how much to share here. I’ve read countless blog posts, social media posts, Reddit threads, and reviews, and one thing I want to make clear is: taste is subjective. Just like taste in music, art or anything else, you can have two people eating the same meal—one loves it, the other hates it. So what you’re reading here is my take.
I’ll admit, I was nervous after reading mixed reviews online—some claiming Noma had lost its magic. My verdict? Emphatically disagree. René Redzepi has crafted a spectacular final menu that is likely to evolve as the season progresses on.
We arrived at 5:15 PM and were ushered into a greenhouse glowing with pink neon lights and plants, where we sipped on herbal tea before being led into the main dining room. Along the snowy path, we got a peek into the test kitchen—and even glimpsed René himself.
The Noma Vibe
I’ve been to a few three-Michelin-star restaurants. Some can feel stuffy—I’ll never forget when a server walked my husband to the bathroom, waited for him, and walked him back. (We still laugh about that.)
Noma? Not stuffy at all. Yes, the tasting menu is steep, but it’s a unique, immersive experience at one of the best restaurants in the world, and the cost feels justified. Which is really what you ask for when you dine at these types of establishments.
Our main server and sommelier were fantastic, and serendipitously both had Colorado ties! Our server had worked at Frasca in Boulder, and our sommelier (originally from Holland) has a father who resides in Southern CO. What are the odds?
Speaking of our sommelier—she was absolutely fabulous, recommending local wine and beer since we opted out of the full wine pairing.
The Food!
First impression? The “table setting” was seafood on display that would be featured in our meal (you can find more pictures and video on my instagram if you’re craving visuals). A stunning preview of the courses ahead. Once it was removed, we dove into the first course: Scandinavian king crab leg.
I’ve eaten a lot of crab in my life, but this? Hands-down the best. We followed with three more crab-centric dishes, including a crab shell broth that I wanted to bottle up and take home.
Next came courses highlighting blue mussels and scallops, plus two of my favorite bites: a wasabi-like taco and seaweed served three ways. (Clearly, I love umami.)
We moved on to squid, beet sashimi (beets were everywhere in Copenhagen), a berry jerky, and the main course—a medley of burbot, mussel broth, scallop, and pickles.
The Oops Moment
High-end dining can feel intimidating. The dishes arrive and you often wonder: Do I use a spoon, fork, or my hands? What order do I eat this in? What even is this?
At some point, we missed the memo on our main course and started drinking the sauce that looked like broth. Our sommelier caught us mid-sip, laughed (we all did), and generously brought us a whole new dish of sauces so we could dip the fish properly.
Lesson learned: Fine dining mistakes happen, and it’s okay! Sometimes, they even make the meal more memorable.
The Sweetest Ending
Stuffed but happy, we moved on to dessert. Foraging plays a big role here—one mousse dish was topped with mini pine needles that looked like Christmas trees. Not something I expected to eat, but it was fantastic.
The standout? The cardamom sea star. I can’t even begin to describe it, and photos don’t do it justice. It captured the essence of surprise, beauty, and wonderment that defined this meal.
Wrapping Up
I won’t spoil the entire menu and wanted to leave vague descriptions, but am excited to share these few highlights. Some mystery should remain, especially if you’re lucky enough to score a reservation before Noma closes.
As we wrapped up our meal, we walked through the open kitchen, mesmerized by the precision and organization. I picked up a copy of Noma 2.0, which was waiting for me along with a goodie bag as we left.
If you have the chance to dine at Noma, do it. And if not, I hope this gave you a little taste of the experience.
Until next time—stay hungry, stay curious, and stay delicious. See you in the next Hello, Delicious!