Amass

Where do you go to eat before going to see the Eurovision Jury Final?  Especially when said show is being held far from the center of Copenhagen, in a mid-revitalization port/industrial zone on its own island?  Well, if you're smart, you get Jonathan to be in charge of the reservation.  And he, as always comes through, hits the goldmine called Amass and delivers you right to the restaurant's industrial yet laid-back atmosphere in a former warehouse space:

We were nervous about how long it might take us to get to these far-far away lands, of what has temporarily been dubbed Eurovision Island by the city of Copenhagen for this week's EuroInvasion.  Of course we arrived slightly early.  And by slightly, I mean like one hour early and may have freaked out the staff a bit during their pre-dinner meeting.  Thanks Copenhagen public transportation...why did you have to be so freakin' effective.  We were seated in a waiting area and were brought some seriously good Austrian sparkling wine (foreshadowing, perhaps).

 And with that first sip of the sweet nectar, Jeff transformed into EvilJeff...More on that later.

While we were sipping our sparkly wine, we were presented with the three menu options.  Seeing as we had three hours to enjoy the kitchen's creations, we opted for the smaller tasting menu with six "official" dishes (with wine pairings for almost every course, obviously).  The pre-starter starters of sour pancakes, served with a broken creme fraiche and lumpfish roe and enhanced with the flavors of the various organic herbs grown within site of our table, just outside, requires a lot of self-control and pacing for what else was about to come our way:

We were given a tasting size of the below wine, to go with the first official starter (and the flatbread that became the unofficial seventh dish of this menu):

About that flatbread:  The servers may have seen us fighting over (I'm only half-kidding) these insanely good fermented potato flat breads served with the spread of burnt green onion, wild garlic and leeks. May more rounds of them found their way onto our table.

Next came the light fish course made of hot smoked lumpfish, ramsons and green coriander seeds.  Holy beauty of texture.  Wow!

The second starter of roasted chicken skins, with salted plums, radishes and scurvy greens (which have an unfortunate name, but an incredibly crisp taste to balance the richness of the skins):

All of our starter dishes devoured, we were then moved on to this incredible little red from France.  [If you ever one across it, buy lots of it for your home...garage...office!]

Then came the roasted beets.  I can honestly say, I have never tasted beets like this in my life (& I am a bit of a beet freak).  I frequently roast various versions, kinds, colors of beets at home in different concoctions.  This may have come on the biggest plate and in the smallest size, but kicked quite the taste punch.  Prepared with rose hips, black garlic, cepe, and served with water mint, there were hints of chocolate-ness mixed with the familiar sweetness of the beets.  Feast your eyes:

Then arrived the madness that is the double magnum of this:

Don't worry, it wasn't all for us to consume...But we got to keep it at our table for a while, trying to avoid the obvious jokes and innuendos and instead focused on training our palate for what was about to come our way:

Then came the piece de la resistance.  I'll let the color speak for themselves but know that you're looking at a dry-aged beef, with roasted carrots, beach peas and a browned buttermilk sauce I could've literally licked off my plate (or                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       to spoon out like soup).

Then arrived the rhubarb sherbet, served in a "soup" of rosemary and topped with a bitter and sweet burnt chocolate [Note:  rhubarb seems to be very popular in all of Scandi, but particularly in Denmark, which I'm totally fine with].

Aaaah...we gorged this perfection of a meal-ender right into our stomachs, accompanied by a little coffee.  And then more stuff showed, up, so we ate these as well.  How can you refuse, when you meet the chef, and a response of "I.just.can't.anymore." will just not do.   Aslo it would've been outright rude if we left any of this behind...for reals]

And bam, like that four stuffed guys wondered over to the Eurovision line...