accidentally on purpose in copenhagen
How a business trip became a love letter to buns, bikes, and the quiet magic of showing up + tons of recommendations w/links!
I just spent a week onboarding a new Danish client for our creative studio in Copenhagen, and I'm still on a surreal high.
This. Is. My. Biggest. Client. Ever.
In every sense of the word.
Let me set the scene: A few months ago, I had no reason to think I'd end up in Copenhagen this year. Sure, it's been quietly parked in the back of my mind as a ‘must-see’ city, but I hadn't given it serious thought in a while. I didn't have a plan, a ticket, or a project lined up. What I did have was a growing conviction that if I kept creating and showing up, something big might happen. And wouldn't you know it? It did.
This trip and the following words are tiny testaments to the magic that happens when you stop overthinking and start making. When you muster the courage to create, to share your work, and say yes even when it scares the hell out of you.
As much as I hate to admit it (because I’m partially an introvert, and sometimes just socially anxious), the universe rewards action and doesn’t really reward wallflowers. That’s been my mantra this year. It’s why Café Isolde exists in the first place: I chose to create, and the rest has been a beautiful ripple effect.
Newsflash: you can still catch an exhilarating ride at 31.
(At 41, at 51, at 61...)
Unlike every other city guide to Copenhagen or what those perky 48-hour itinerary videos suggest, I didn't get anywhere near a bike. Not because I don't think you should —I mean, it's the bike-friendly capital of the world— but because my shoulder decided to freeze up the second I lifted my bags for a three-hour drive into Atlanta, chasing a flight across the pond. It turns out that shoulders are essential when hauling your life across an ocean. Who knew!
At any rate, Copenhagen can keep its two-wheeled charm for now. I had other plans: Eating pastries, soaking up Scandi-design, and surviving meetings on adrenaline and espresso.
Here's everything I did —and ate— as the spinoff of blurring the lines between business and pleasure in the Nordic region.
#1 — Atelier September
We dropped our bags at the hotel in Østerport and barely took a breath before hunting for food. (Okay, we both showered after that 8-hour flight, but you get the idea.)
My man suggested Atelier September, and I didn’t even glance at the carefully crafted itinerary I’d pieced together. We just marched into town caffeine-starved, hungry, and ready for anything.
Here’s the thing: you can’t go wrong with food in Copenhagen. (Or much else, really. It almost feels illegal to know a place like Denmark exists.) So if you take anything from this list, let it be this: Don’t lose your sense of wonder. Walk around. Get curious. Pop into places you’ve never heard of and let the city lead you. It won’t steer you wrong.
As for Atelier September, we didn’t make it in time for food. The kitchen had already closed, so we pivoted. We wandered down the street to another bakery called Bagt. We ran into the same issue, but they had a few fresh sandwiches out, so we bit the bullet, loaded up on caffeine, and kept it moving.
A quick note: Atelier September is always packed during peak hours. So if you’re tight on time, have a few backup spots in mind. Again, none of the alternative options around it will disappoint (and I will get to them).
But first, let me get this out of the way: I did make it back to Atelier September the next day, before heading in for my first full workday at the client’s headquarters in the City Center (Indre By). But in true New York fashion, I was rushing that morning. Struggling to find my footing, fighting jet lag, and scrambling to find an electronics store open before 10 am so I could buy two plug converters I’d forgotten to pack (and didn’t get at the airport upon arrival). Rookie mistake.
So there I was, at Atelier September, ordering my first Avocado Toast in Copenhagen (far from a basic choice here, by the way): The Avokadomad is practically an art form, in the shape of rye bread and buttery soft, thinly sliced avocado. I ordered an iced vanilla oat latte to go with it, sat down, and realized, with a sinking feeling, that I had mismanaged my time entirely. Something I hate. Something that never sits well with me, no matter how chill I think I am.
As the food hit the table, I felt that small internal scream rising, you know the one. I was out of time. I couldn’t eat in.
Panicked, and as second-nature, I asked for a to-go box. The sweet server blinked at me like I’d just asked for a small goat. She went to the back, returned, and told me, politely but confidently, we don’t have that.
So there I was —how very un-Danish of me— chugging my iced latte, leaving my barely-touched Avokadomad behind, burning a metaphorical hole in the table, and striding out the door. I swear it was the best [minuscule bite of it] I’ve ever had.
I am giving myself some grace, though, but whatever you do, don’t ask for a to-go box in Denmark. And definitely don’t rush. The Danes don’t rush. They take their time, and they do it well. So, take a seat, slow down, and don’t try to outpace the locals :)
#2 — Bottega Barlie
This was probably the spot where I felt the most local, the most young, the most cool, and it wasn’t even on my itinerary. The vibes were just right. Which only proves my point: let the city guide you.
The sun was subtly shifting into its golden hour grandeur, and people were spilling onto the street, soaking it all in. The whole thing just clicked. The wine here was fantastic, and the food was predictably fresh but absurdly good. If you find yourself here, get the Haddock Ceviche. *I know, ordering ceviche in Scandinavia sounds counterintuitive, especially when you’re from the tropics and have eaten your weight in actual ceviche*. But trust me, no one does seafood like the Danish (Mexico, I’m looking at you).
Other must-orders: the oysters (so good, so different), and the stracciatella with sourdough. Non-negotiable.
#3 — Zeleste
I felt genuinely spoiled with this next one. Zeleste was a local recommendation. And by local, I mean my new Danish team brought me here for welcome dinner and drinks! Take any restaurant tip with a grain of salt, but if you're after the perfect intersection of charm, intimacy, and the kind of halibut that ruins all future halibut for you, this is your spot.
It’s giving dinner date, but honestly? Find any excuse to go. A solo moment, a celebration, a “just because I’m in Copenhagen and fabulous” night. Zeleste delivers. From A to Z, everything was impeccable. I ordered the halibut (as I mentioned) and added a side of burrata in a bold and slightly unhinged move (yes, you can order it as a side here, and yes, you absolutely should).
Are you sensing a theme here? Fresh cheese and seafood! mhm…
#4 — Apollo Bar
This next spot was high on my must-visit list. Apollo is a Copenhagen-based museum restaurant tucked into the historic Kunsthal Charlottenborg courtyard, one of the city’s main cultural institutions.
I’ll be honest: I think it’s overrated.
In complete transparency, my boyfriend wasn’t feeling great that night, so maybe my experience is colored by the heavy cloud of exhaustion we were both under. But still. I ordered the prix-fixe menu to justify having a little taste of everything for a relatively better price (girl math university in session) and hoped for the best. As it turns out, the highlight for me was their Negroni Bianco. It was bright, layered, and actually interesting. Everything else? Meh. The food leaned heavily into the “crunchy raw vegetables” vibe, which sounds virtuous in theory but is a bit too al dente in practice.
Something tells me I should’ve known better. While undeniably charming and tucked away from the chaos, the restaurant is in Nyhavn—Copenhagen’s historic harborfront, aka the city’s most picturesque tourist trap. You go once, see it, and don’t need to return.
#5 — Brasserie Barner
After two full days of being in-office, the weekend finally rolled around and with it, a change of pace. We relocated to a perfectly unbothered Airbnb in Østerbro, which opened up the chance to explore the area more deeply. Østerbro is Copenhagen’s quiet, residential side (more clean laundry lines and baby strollers, less chaotic, cool). We craved that calm. If you're after something a bit grittier or scene-y, look into Vesterbro instead.
Brasserie Barner wasn’t on my radar, but luckily, it was on my partner’s. And honestly? I’m still thinking about it. Service-wise and food-wise, this was hands down my favorite experience of the entire trip. We both agree it ranks as one of our best dinner dates ever — and considering we’ve lived in New York (on and off) for years, that’s not a statement I make lightly.
It’s hard to pin down exactly what made it so good. There’s magic in the details: reimagined comfort food held to quietly high standards, served on delicate, mismatched china that could’ve belonged to someone’s stylish Danish grandmother. The glow of candlelight, the hushed and mellow warmth of the room, and quite literally the best service I’ve experienced in a long time. It felt unpretentious, intimate, and beautifully self-assured.
The place wasn’t packed (just a few tables around us), but the atmosphere was quietly electric. There was no pretense, no spectacle, just good food, good timing, and the kind of experience that sneaks up on you as iconic.
I’ll be finding my way back here for sure. You should definitely seek it out if you come.
If you’ve made it this far, first of all, bless you. I didn’t mean to write a novela, but the words tend to spill when you fall in love with a city (and a cardamom bun or five).
Somewhere between my fifth restaurant review and my third rewrite, I realized this story needed to be split into two. We haven’t even gotten to the art, the design, or the nitty-gritty of why Copenhagen really carved a place in my heart. Denmark left a mark, and I want to give you the full picture.
So consider this Part I: the more ‘edible’ half. Part II is coming in hot, with all the museums, visual moments, quiet revelations, and unexpected parallels I found between the Danish and my home country. (Also, there will be more food, and we will get to the pastries.)
There’s also a ton of unposted content —especially from the museums— that never made it to my IG stories. Which is exactly why I prefer long-form content. Stories disappear, captions get buried, but I get to stretch out and show you what moved me here.
I’m also toying with the idea of creating a downloadable little cheat sheet—something you can keep on your phone if you ever find yourself in Denmark. If that’s something you’d actually use, let me know in the comments or slide into my inbox. I want to make things that feel useful and beautiful.
The rest of the story —how it unravels and ends (or starts)— will pick up right where this leaves off. Sorry for the cliffhanger energy, but I finally have time to sit down and make sense of the last month of travel, change, and creative growth. I wanted to bring Café Isolde back with a proper bang.
Thank you for reading, feeling this with me, and letting me take you along for the ride. I look forward to seeing you in Part II. I promise it’s worth the wait!
With big love,
-I
💪🏼
It's so engaging, every detail you write and how you put your thoughts into words. 🙌🏼