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Open sandwiches (smørrebrød), meatballs (frikadeller), crispy pork belly (stegt flæsk) … There are many must-eat dishes for food lovers visiting Denmark, though perhaps nothing springs to mind as readily as the Danish pastry. But how are you supposed to choose from the countless bakeries on offer? And once you have decided which to visit, which pastry to eat? As a long-term resident of Copenhagen and pastry obsessive, I took on the Guardian’s challenge to find the best Danish pastry in town.
Let’s get started with the shocking fact that Danish pastries are not actually Danish. In Denmark they’re called wienerbrød (Viennese bread) and made using a laminated dough technique that originated in Vienna. There’s also no such thing as a “Danish” in Denmark – there are so many different types of pastry that the word loses meaning. What we know as a Danish is a spandauer – a round pastry with a folded border and a circle of yellowy custard in the middle. Then there’s the tebirkes, a folded pastry often with a baked marzipan-style centre and poppy seeds on the top; a frøsnapper, a twist of pastry dusted with poppy seeds; and a snegl, which translates as “snail” but is known as a cinnamon swirl in English.
I decided to compare bakeries based on their snegl – partly because they are my favourite but mainly because you can find one just about everywhere. I’m also clear on what constitutes a good one: it should have a crisp outer circle and a squidgier middle, which Danes regard as the best bit, and should taste of cinnamon and sugar.
With a steady stream of often international pastry chefs leaving the city’s high-end restaurants to open their own bakeries, new outlets are popping up nearly every day. There’s a low-key fight going on between old and new, but in this Instagram age it’s not a fair one. While the more traditional bakeries are marked out by the golden kringle, a sign like a pretzel, hanging outside their shops, the boutique-style bakeries have nearly always got better lighting and more vibrant displays.
For me, it’s a classic story of modernisation and renewal: some adaptations may go too far, but others make traditional pastry taste even better, so why not? I explored both types: the traditional bakeries imbued with hygge and historic charm, and the chic, patisserie-style places. Try them both – it’s fun!
Sankt Peders Bageri
Famous for its “Wednesday snegl”, Sankt Peders is the oldest bakery in the city, dating back to 1652, and it looks the part: on a cobbled Old Town street, it has a golden kringle hanging outside, and the scent of cinnamon perfumes the air. I ask for their classic pastry and am handed a cinnamon snegl. It’s round, rather flat, and decorated with a splodge of white icing. I bite into its crisp outer edges and find a soft inner section. It’s good, but the lack of height – along with the teeth-achingly sweet icing – means it won’t be in contention for a top spot.
30 kroner (£3.50), 5/10
Brød
Hipster vibes abound at Brød, a small modern bakery on Enghave Plads in the vibrant Vesterbro district. Babies are sleeping in prams outside and a man wearing a teeny-weeny beanie pulls up on a cargo bike as I arrive. The young baker serving me is very proud of Denmark’s pastry expertise and advises me to try a snegl, a spandauer and a tebirkes to get a fully rounded idea of what they do. How can I say no? The spandauer and tebirkes are good, not too sweet, but I’m a particular fan of the tall cinnamon swirl and its deliciously squidgy middle.
30 kroner, 7.5/10
Juno
This has been consistently rated one of the best bakeries in the city since it was opened by the Swedish baker and ex-Noma pastry chef Emil Glaser in the Østerbro district in 2017. I drop in to try their classic cardamom bun, but there’s nowhere to sit so I take it to work. It’s beautiful to look at, delicately plaited and dusted with sugar and black flecks of cardamom. It’s sweet, slightly chewy and very moreish. At this point I think I should be more like Prue and Paul on Bake Off and just eat a morsel of each pastry to avoid the ensuing sugar crash that will derail my day. But I find I can’t stop myself.
34 kroner, 9/10
Discount 365
Before I tell you to shell out for one of the city’s more expensive pastries, I have a responsibility to make sure cheaper versions are represented here. So I visit a local supermarket, Discount 365, and buy a thin, flat and cold snegl from the bakery cabinet, topped with a circle of white icing. It’s crisply crunchy nearly all the way through and lacks a soft middle. There’s not much in the way of cinnamon taste and there’s absolutely no lingering flavour, except for maybe margarine. Pay more: you’ll thank me. 12 kroner, 1/10
Albatross & Venner
They are still rolling up the shutters of the Torvehallerne food hall when I arrive, but a decent queue is already forming at Albatross & Venner. I count 10 different types of pastry as I wait: next to fat cinnamon swirls, there are chia swirls, feta and spinach swirls and other savoury options. I opt for a cinnamon snegl, which they make with coffee syrup. The thick, uneven rolls are a little clumsy, but it’s glazed, soft and delicious. There’s no real definition between the outside and the inside so it’s not in the elite league. But it is hearty.
35 kroner, 6.5/10
Lagkagehuset
Although I’m a big fan of independents, it would be remiss to not mention the city’s bakery chains. Lagkagehuset is a classic, with a modern concrete and marble interior, and reliable options from a counter that offers everything from great sandwiches to glossy cakes and quintessential pastries. Bakery snobs despair at their mass-produced goods but I remain a fan. I plump for a direktørsnegl, a big chocolate-topped cinnamon swirl, which is messy with an oozy centre. If you don’t love really sweet things you may find it too sickly – but that’s not how I roll. 27 kroner, 8/10
Riviera
Run by Italian chef Chiara Barla, this neighbourhood bakery near Nørreport has a chic minimalist interior and is known in Copenhagen for serving the best tebirkes in the world. I watch the bakers roll out and shape pale dough behind the counter as I try their pastries. After weeks of tasting, I can say hands down that this is the one. The plaited, sticky, orange-glazed cinnamon snegl is a feast for the eyes and a party for the mouth; the lightly lemony vanilla custard of the spandauer is exquisite; and the tebirkes is like the most delicious love child of a traditional tebirkes and a doughnut.
35 kroner, 10/10
Laura Hall is the author of Modern Scandinavian, a Substack about life in northern Europe
