- Written by: Kaja Sajovic
On Nicolai Norregaard’s Bornholm, the light hits different. The golden Nordic light that paints everything in hues of dreamy and promising. The white sand dunes shifting with the wind along the bent pine fringed coast. An old dilapidating picnic table gets buried in it, inch by inch. By next spring she might be gone completely.
It’s a slow-paced island, with villages full of brightly painted houses that look like a forgotten Wes Anderson movie set, an old man picking blackberries outside his red wooden house and a family sitting in front of the ice cream shop licking the cones like they are trying to stall the end of summer just a little bit longer.
Men are gathered in front of old fishing pubs, getting sprayed by the salty sea water crashing on the pier, and women are tending to their garden patches of pink and crimson hollyhocks in full bloom.
Bornholm is also an island of craftsmen, be it glassware, woodwork or ceramics, with unique pieces reflecting the island’s pastel colour palette.
They have ciders, they have small-batch vinegar production, they have a roadside drive-through sourdough bakery, they have speciality cafes that moonlight as natural wine bars as well – think Copenhagen, but more down to earth, you know, with staff that are still happy to see you.
“I have to take you somewhere,” remembers Nicolai at some point while driving from Dunes Beach Camp – their cute little side project – to Kadeau on the other side of the island.
He stops his car almost in the middle of the narrow road, opposite a quaint farmstead in the middle of nowhere with a sign “Vin”, “Wine”, and “Open every day” in front of it. It's an "honesty natural wine shop" run by a former Kadeau staffer who opened the place to have more time with his daughter, who is standing next to him, clenching his hand.
It’s one of those unmistakably island (and Danish) things. A self-service shack full of exciting natty wines.
But the real characteristic of Bornholm is tens and tens of brick towers scattered across the island (also the stylised symbol of restaurant Kadeau), used for centuries to smoke the mackerels and eel, served on the wooden picnic tables with pints of beer, crab salad and gigantic bowls of mayo.
Bornholm used to have around 135 active smokehouses at its peak near the turn of the 20th century – with stricter sanitation rules and falling fish stocks in the Baltic Sea, less than ten are still working on the island today.
With its own specific, mild microclimate in this part of the Nordics, the land is abundant with gorgeous herbs, wild berries and even fig trees, everything roaming to the two Kadeau kitchens (the seasonal Kadeau Bornholm one and the permanent Copenhagen one) run by Norregaard, himself a Bornholm native.
The fragrant leaves, the preserves holding all the juices and aromas from the summer, the herbal oils, the cider vinegars infused with petals and elderflower and dill, everything that makes his cuisine so personal and instantly recognisable.
It’s Kadeau Copenhagen that earned Norregaard three Michelin stars and a spot on the World’s 50 Best Restaurants list, but it’s the Bornholm one where you can really feel that connection between the dishes and the environment that shaped them – and shaped Norregaard.
Honestly, it’s hard not to get inspired on a picture-perfect summer day, Danish red and white flag flapping in the warm wind, butt-naked young men jumping in the shallow sea facing Poland, pink wild roses peeking from overgrown golden grass, replaced by big red bulbs of rose hip later on in September.
You sip on a lovely, carefully selected glass of grower champagne as you try to take in every photon of the gorgeous late afternoon light before you are called to your wooden table inside the sea-facing restaurant. Staff are shucking oysters amidst raised beds of lemon thyme and dill, and there are some other guests, you know, the very cool and effortlessly chic ones, smoking outside.
The first course is usually the delicate bits of shellfish with pickled vegetables, a nod to Bornholm, a nod to the bounties of the sea, a nod to the coastal vegetation and pine trees bent by the wind blowing in from the Baltic. It’s the perfect introduction to kitchen philosophy.
It’s a deeply personal cuisine, organic, deceivingly effortless and almost, dare I say it, feminine. There’s a lightness, a real sense of sensitivity and kind of poetic traits to it.
Sweet, fresh shrimps pressed into a tartelette on a scallop shell.
Mackerel pie with creamy Loke cheese and pickles on a rye cracker base.
Decades-old Mahogany Clam with Shiso and Hazelnut.
The most tender, slow-cooked Squid with new potatoes, an insane play on textures.
I am glad I don’t have to pick which Kadeau to write about – to me, they are meant to be experienced hand in hand.
You can’t fully understand Kadeau Copenhagen without setting foot on the island and seeing it through Nicolai’s eyes. Because at their (albeit perfect) 3-star place, they aren’t doing the whole song and dance routine you usually expect from these kinds of accoladed dining establishments.
Instead of an endless display of amuse-bouche tartelettes, they go straight to that shellfish-pickled vegetables dish. Instead of a petit-fours praline trolley that makes your head spin with a late-night decision-making process, they opt for their lovely warm walnut tart.
They have also ditched the convoluted storytelling – even though the story of Kadeau and Nicolai’s upbringing on that magical island you never get fed is actually beautiful.
When they roll in their signature salmon, hot- and cold-smoked, served with onion and lavender, it transports you to those smokehouses of Bornholm. Every dish pays homage to the island, every berry, every preserved leaf, every bitter coastal herb, every pine cone, and every drop of infused oil and cider vinegar.
Kadeau in Danish means a gift, a praise, kudos (bastardised from French as you do). As Nicolai, 46, brushes it off, it's a lame name. He is like that, self-effacing, with a sharp dark sense of humour and an astute observer, something that translates well into everything he does. He is not the loud, boastful type of chef who would ever assert himself as the new leader of New Nordic, and Kadeau has always been sort of an underdog among the giants of Copenhagen. Patiently, unassumingly waiting its turn.
In Copenhagen, it’s easy to forget it’s been 20-plus-years since the New Nordic took off. Everything still feels so fresh, so exciting, so young and in vogue. Kadeau is the perfect example. The restaurant, which will turn 20 next year, is definitely having a moment. Not only does it feel relevant, it feels ahead of the curve and not willing to bend the knee to expectations of what a 3-star place should look like.
It's New Nordic as it was envisioned so many years ago, and it manages to shine even brighter today.
Practicalities
Kadeau Bornholm
Adress: Baunevej 18, 3720 Åkirkeby, Bornholm
Open: May to September. Thu–Sun: dinner [18.00]; high season Wed–Sun: dinner [18.00]
Tasting menu: DKK 2,750
Pairings: wine DKK 1,550; non-alcoholic DKK 1,200
Nearest transport hub: Rønne, 23 minutes by car
Website and reservations
Kadeau Copenhagen
Adress: Wildersgade 10B, 1408 Copenhagen K
Open: Tue–Fri: dinner [18.00]; Sat: lunch [12.00] and dinner [18.30]
Tasting menu: DKK 4,150
Pairings: wine from DKK 2,500; non-alcoholic DKK 1,500
Website and reservations
