Geranium
Geranium has perhaps passed its peak, and it may no longer be necessary to make a special trip to Copenhagen just to visit.
Chef Rasmus Kofoed, after helping the restaurant secure the number one spot on the World's Best 50 Restaurants list in 2022, has stepped back from the limelight to spend more time with his family. His presence is notably absent within the establishment, leaving his protégé in charge.
Under the guidance of this protégé, the dishes are somewhat too structured and academic. While they retain Geranium's signature aesthetic, it must be acknowledged that there are few standout dishes on the menu. The offerings mainly rely on established recipes with limited innovation. This would have been competitive three years ago but now appears somewhat mediocre, meeting the standards expected of a conventional three-Michelin-starred restaurant, yet not quite aligning with the "World's Best of Best" title.
However, it's fair to say that even during Geranium's heyday, its ascent to the top of the World's 50 Best was undeniably bolstered by Noma's influence. Noma significantly elevated Copenhagen's reputation and dining trends within the fine dining market:
Gourmet diners from around the world flocked to Copenhagen to experience Noma firsthand, and naturally, they would also visit other local establishments while in the city. The climb up the rankings in the World Best 50’s system largely depends on the number of influential guests or voters who dine at the restaurant each year. With Noma drawing these patrons to Copenhagen, a cluster of such clientele gradually formed.
In essence, the fine dining industry operates much like a competitive arena where having formidable opponents often matters more than strong teammates.
Geranium's signature aesthetic leans towards a Parisian style, albeit with a distinct Nordic touch of coolness:
Colors are primarily pure hues and adjacent shades.
Designs emphasize extreme symmetry.
Garnishes feature intricate floral elements and flower-shaped biscuits.
Ingredients focus on low-fat, clean flavors, with no red meat; the entire menu consists only of seafood and vegetables.
Succinctly put: an "ethereal fairy sipping dew" style.
The 15-course menu is divided into three sections: four appetizers, seven main courses, and four desserts. I opted for apple juice pairing, which was house-made, chilled, and had a crisp, refreshing taste.
The day's menu is presented in an envelope sealed with wax, requiring guests to use scissors provided at the table to cut the ribbon and reveal the menu, placing it on a stand.
The first course, Garden Tartare, features classic Danish salt-cured herring sashimi with a texture akin to raw scallops, garnished with a variety of herbs and flowers, topped with black seaweed crisps. This classic "garden" theme continues throughout subsequent main courses and dessert.
The second course, Raw Roe, served in a bowl of orange soup containing raw roe and small crunchy particles (roe from Baltic whitefish), topped with additional crunch and resting on a bed of juicy, acidic sauce.
The third course, Beetroot, the best dish of the evening, evoking thoughts of the kitchen's meticulous preparation. Local beetroot from Copenhagen farms is intricately carved into delicate flower shapes, showcasing precise symmetry and beauty, with each flower composed of two layers—a thin gelatinous layer and a thicker layer of beetroot flesh. Surprisingly, the beetroot lacks its typical earthy, dry bitterness and instead offers a soft, smooth texture. The dish is further enhanced by a mustard note in the accompanying sauce, serving as a highlight.
The presentation of this dish was memorable, with two young women serving it. One asked if I knew Sarah, then introduced her—the other server named Sarah, who was the development chef behind the dish. This interaction subtly conveyed a friendly and inclusive kitchen environment. After enjoying the dish, I praised Sarah through the front-of-house staff, expressing my admiration for her creation.
The fourth course, Oysters, presents a dish that conforms to the stereotypical perception of Nordic cuisine, featuring poached oyster chunks, cucumber balls, herb-infused thin sauce, and pearl-like spheres made from algae, offering a hint of sea flavor and acidity.
Following the appetizers, the main section begins.
The fifth course, Baby Squid, arranged precisely on a seaweed plate with baby squid and apple strands, complemented by a creamy hazelnut oil sauce and copious amounts of caviar, maintaining a fresh profile while introducing a subtle richness.
The sixth course, Mushroom Soup, is a rich mushroom soup containing dried mushrooms, with a noticeable oily mouthfeel and a slightly sour base, served alongside mushroom butter biscuits.
The seventh course, Black Truffle Hazelnut, showcases a dish with an earthy pattern, featuring a bed of black truffle foam topped with generous amounts of hazelnuts, marking a clear transition to the second part of the menu, which demonstrates a well-paced distribution of flavors.
The eighth course, Scallop, serves plump scallops paired with raspberry leaves, adding a well-balanced fruity acidity to the French-style sauce.
The ninth course, Garden Pancake, reminiscent of scallion pancakes, features a crispy onion layer on top and various floral garnishes, staying true to the garden aesthetic.
The tenth course, Fish Roll, presents a piece of fish fillet and a fish roll, accompanied by a sauce to apply at will. The fish itself is moist but bland, while the fish roll is excessively salty, making it the only dish left unfinished.
The eleventh course, Garden Salad, surprisingly, the main course turns out to be a vegetable salad, often considered a go-to for awards. Although different ingredients are given distinct flavors, it remains essentially a vegetable salad—nothing extraordinary.
Before dessert, a multilingual staff member introduces the restaurant and arranges a tour, speaking the guest's native language to create a sense of familiarity and highlighting the kitchen's international background. Guests are shown various areas of the restaurant, including the kitchen, research kitchen, wine cellar, and growing area. Upon returning to their seats, the dessert course commences.
The twelfth course, Carrot Sorbet, consists of a dairy-based panna cotta at the bottom, a fruity carrot sorbet on top, mixed with pumpkin seed crumbs, and finished with a crispy element. Regardless of taste, the dish's global popularity is undeniable due to its striking appearance.
The thirteenth course, Bursting Chocolate, comprises two small spheres in a dainty spoon—one filled with a bursting chocolate center and the other with a molten chocolate interior, though the distinction between them is minimal.
The fourteenth course, Yogurt Cream, resembles ice cream but is actually yogurt cream, served on a plate evoking imagery of melting snow atop a mountain, accompanied by pear slices and frozen shards created using liquid nitrogen. The dessert segment doesn't offer significant novelty.
The fifteenth course, Petit Fours, includes milk chocolate, an apple tartlet, and a cookie nestled among a profusion of floral decorations. However, I've grown weary of complex cookies used for plating purposes.
This entire meal leaves one feeling about half-full.
Despite sharing the same prominent financial backer, particularly in the blockchain sector, Geranium takes a contrasting direction in terms of aesthetics and values compared to Alchemist:
Aesthetically, Geranium embodies the "ethereal fairy sipping dew" style, combining elements of Parisian elegance with a unique Nordic chill.
In the kitchen, according to a Chinese heritage pastry chef working there, the environment is harmonious and supportive. The bright and welcoming atmosphere of the research kitchen and employee dining area impressed me during the post-main course tour.
Nonetheless, I did not develop a particular fondness for Geranium. I acknowledge that it is indeed a Michelin three-star standard restaurant, but currently, Geranium falls short of being exceptional and is far from achieving perfection.
Often, I appreciate the orderliness in restaurants, where everyone has a defined role and follows a disciplined workflow. However, Geranium seems somewhat disorganized in this regard. With ten tables in the dining hall accommodating approximately 30 guests per day, the compact service kitchen is cramped with a multitude of chefs—around ten packed into a space of less than 10 square meters, with another 25 chefs in the main kitchen. Additionally, there are roughly ten servers in the front of the house, all sharing responsibilities for delivering dishes. As a result, the constant stream of people emerging from the passageways fills the small space, creating a chaotic and crowded ambiance.
