My definition of family extends beyond blood lines. I spent three weeks in Denmark, the last leg of my summer in Scandinavia and it only took a week to become a part of a new family.
“If you’re visiting Denmark, you must stay with my cousin, Pia. She would love to have you.” As I was leaving Norway, those were the words of Jarle, the friend of a friend who hosted me in Oslo. I wondered if he was just being kind. Would she want really to have a stranger stay with her?, I wondered. He insisted she would. A few months later, he connected us via email. Pia responded, graciously extending the invitation.
I rented a car in Copenhagen for the three-hour drive to Kolding, a 750 year-old city in Southern Jutland with a population of 60,000, about three hours west of Copenhagen. When I arrived, Sofie, Pia’s daughter, answered the door. She was home visiting from university for the week. As Pia was busy on a call, Sofie warmly greeted me, helping to lug my bags upstairs. Shortly after I got settled, Pia appeared with a hospitable smile. Dinner was ready and waiting for me. She had prepared a whole salt-baked chicken and salad, paired with a lovely white burgundy. A few hours into our meal, I knew we would be friends for life.
A few brief interactions with Sofie revealed how wise she was beyond her years. I thought about my early twenties self and I was nowhere near as emotionally mature and insightful as she – not to mention generous with her time. She dedicated a day out of her week to give me a tour of Aarhus, her charming university town. Though, that day we spent most of our time on a rooftop, soaking in the view over coffee and discussing life.
Two days into my stay, Pia introduced me to her close friend Anette, a worldly journalist turned tour guide in Kolding. Anette offered to give me a tour of a local museum as she had a group scheduled that day. During the museum visit, Anette and I talked endlessly about life and politics. More so than any other country in the region, in Denmark the people I met were deeply disturbed by the state of affairs in the US. By the end of the day, Anette was convinced I should run for president. I laughed out loud but she was serious!
To my delight, we all shared a mutual appreciation for food and cooking. Pia had a special dinner party scheduled at the end of the week with an intimate group of family and friends. I wanted to pay her generosity forward the best way I knew how so I offered to cater the dinner. We decided on a cocktail hour with a starter followed by a four-course seated dinner. Sofie was my talented sous chef, prepping and executing with precision. Dinner was a hit. The conversation was engaging. Best of all, there wasn’t a morsel of food left on their plates at the end of the meal.
After a long day exploring on Saturday, Anette and her husband, Geritt, extended an invitation for dinner at their gorgeous old farmhouse in Kolding. Geritt was the chef du jour. After hearing about the dinner I made a few days earlier, he was nervous about cooking for me. He was especially disappointed to hear I served four courses so he made sure to have four courses as well. I was thoroughly amused by it all and, ultimately, quite impressed with his culinary skill. He served a rich wild mushroom soup to start, a lovely salad, leek-wrapped fish in an orange cream sauce for the main and the dessert, prepared by Anette, was nothing short of remarkable. A homemade hazelnut meringue was split, filled with cream and topped with fresh blackberries from their garden. Rustic and elegant.
On my last night, Pia insisted that since we would not be together for Christmas, I could not leave without having Christmas dinner with them. We were officially family now. So, after a long day of exploring, we came home and Sofie and Pia began the prep for my Christmas dinner. I wasn’t allowed to help. It’s a rarity that I have the pleasure of being a guest at someone else’s table. I loved being a spectator. Just the sound of the menu excited me – roasted duck breasts, spiced, sweet and vinegar-infused braised red cabbage, caramel potatoes and a decadent sauce for the duck. It was all marvelous. It tasted just like Christmas.
As my departure approached, we became sentimental, anticipating that it would be hard to say goodbye. We vowed to meet up again – their next trip to New York and my return Pia’s birthday in a few years. It was then that I committed to returning to Denmark in the near future.
Food and cooking has always been a connector in my life, a catalyst for meaningful relationships. There is nothing that deepens a connection like sharing a meal, or better yet, preparing one together. As I’ve said before, it’s the people I’ve met on this journey that makes it remarkable. My memories of Denmark will forever be filled with food, family and, most importantly, love.
