by Meik Wiking
If you love Danish TV dramas like Borgen or The Killing, you will be familiar with the Danes’ love of coffee. Hardly a scene goes by without someone ordering a coffee, brewing coffee, or one person looking at another while asking, “Coffee?” Danes are the world’s fourth biggest coffee drinkers and consume around 33 percent more per capita than Americans.
“Live life today like there is no coffee tomorrow.”
The link between coffee and hygge is evident in the Danish language. Kaffehygge, another compound word, this one consisting of coffee and hygge, is everywhere. “Come to kaffehygge,” kaffehygge and cake, workout and kaffehygge, yarn and kaffehygge. Kaffehygge is everywhere. There is even a website dedicated to kaffehygge that states, “Live life today like there is no coffee tomorrow.”
So while you can hygge without coffee, having some definitely helps. There is something comforting about having a warm cup of coffee in your hands. It is definitely conducive to hygge.
ADDICTED TO HYGGE?
You can’t buy happiness, but you can buy cake, and that is almost the same thing—at least, that might be our brain’s opinion. Imagine opening the door to a coffee shop. Tempting aromas from all the sweet things on the counter hit you as you step inside, and when you see all the pastries and cakes you feel happy. You choose your favorite cake, and when you take the first bite, a feeling of euphoria spreads through your body. Oh yes, that is good. But have you thought about why you feel so happy when eating sugary food?
In the basal forebrain there is something called the nucleus accumbens. It is a part of the brain’s reward system and has a significant role when it comes to motivation, pleasure, and reinforcement. Like all other vertebrates, we have this system because it is important that we feel pleasure when doing things like eating food and having sex, since these things are vital for our species’ survival.
When you are doing something that is considered rewarding, a chemical substance is released in the brain, and the signal substance dopamine is activated. Close to the nucleus accumbens, there is an area called the ventral tegmental area, and dopamine is released from there in reward situations. It is when dopamine is transferred from nerve fibers to receptors in different parts of the brain that we experience pleasure. Memories of a pleasurable event are stored in the cerebral cortex so we won’t forget them. It may sound strange, but in a way, you could say the brain creates addictions for our survival.
When we are born, the first thing we taste is sweet breast milk. Liking sweet food is beneficial for our survival, and that is why we experience feelings of joy when eating cakes and other sugary things, and why we find it hard to stop. Our body has taught us to continue doing things that are rewarded. It’s the same thing that calls when it comes to fat and salt.
In short, we associate a certain kind of food with the feeling of pleasure, which makes us want more. Hygge is something that is supposed to be and feel good for you, and that means if you want to eat cake, have some cake. But at the same time, we must know when to stop. It is not very hyggeligt to have a stomachache.
SLOW FOOD’S CHUBBY COUSIN
So confectionery, cakes, and pastries are hyggelige. But there is more to hygge food than increasing your body mass. Hygge may be comfort food. But hygge food is also very much slow food.
How hyggelig a food is also lies in its preparation. The rule of thumb is: the longer a dish takes to cook, the more hyggelig it is.
Preparing hygge food is about enjoying the slow process of it, about appreciating the time you spend and the joy of preparing something of value. It is about your relationship with the meal. That is why homemade jams are more hyggelige than bought ones. Every bite will take you back to that summer day when you picked the fruit and the entire house smelled of strawberries.
Especially in the wintertime, I enjoy spending the best part of a weekend afternoon cooking something that requires hours baking in the oven or simmering on the stove. The process can even be extended by visiting a great farmers’ market, carefully selecting the vegetables in season or having a chat with the butcher about which meat he would recommend for a slow-cooked stew. Having a pot simmering on the stove while you are reading a book in your hyggekrog is not only the sound of hygge but the essence of hygge. The only reason to get up is to add a bit more red wine to the stew.
It is important to stress that the process need not revolve around the simmering of some meaty old Nordic cuisine. It is about the process, not the end product. Last summer, I tried to make limoncello. Part of the process is that you leave the peel of several lemons soaking in alcohol for over a week, for the alcohol to absorb the flavor and the color of the peel. Every day after work I would come home, open the fridge, and take a good sniff to see how my concoction was progressing. The end result was so-so, but the enjoyment from monitoring the progress of the bottle in the fridge was hygge all the way.
HYGGE RECIPES
Five recipes that will definitely get the hygge going.
SKIBBERLABSKOVS
BRAISED PORK CHEEKS IN DARK BEER WITH POTATO-CELERIAC MASH
BOLLER I KARRY
GLØGG
SNOBRØD
SKIBBERLABSKOVS
(SKIP-ER-LAP-SCOWS)
SKIPPER STEW
This dish is a hearty down-to-earth stew, originally made on ships (hence the name), and is great for a brisk autumn day. Instead of brisket, you can use leftover meat, making it even more down-to-earth and hyggelig.
Serves 4–6. Cooking time 1 hour and 15 minutes.
1½ pounds brisket
3 onions
7 tablespoons butter
3–4 bay leaves
10–12 black peppercorns
4 cups chicken stock
3½ pounds potatoes
Salt and pepper
A handful of chives
4–6 pickled beets
Rye bread
1. Cut the brisket into bite-size cubes.
2. Peel and chop the onions.
3. Melt the butter in a thick-bottomed pot or Dutch oven and sauté the onions until they are translucent (they should not brown).
4. Add the meat, bay leaves, and peppercorns, then pour the boiling chicken stock into the pot. It should just cover the meat and onions.
5. Cover and leave to simmer for about forty-five minutes. Peel the potatoes and cut them into bite-size pieces.
6. Put half of the potatoes on top of the meat and put the lid back on.
7. After fifteen minutes, stir the contents of the pot and add the rest of the potatoes—and a bit of extra chicken stock if needed. Simmer for another fifteen to twenty minutes on low heat, remembering to stir frequently so the stew doesn’t burn on the bottom. The aim is for the meat to be sitting in a potato mash but for there still to be whole pieces of tender potato.
8. Season with salt and pepper, and serve hot with a pat of butter, a generous amount of chives, one pickled beet per person, and rye bread.
BRAISED PORK CHEEKS IN DARK BEER WITH POTATO-CELERIAC MASH
This is one of my favorite winter dishes. It needs to simmer for a long time on the stove to increase the hygge factor, and to allow you to spend time with a glass of wine and your favorite book in the meantime.
Serves 4. Cooking time 1 hour and 45 minutes–2 hours.
For the braised pork cheeks:
10–12 pork cheeks
Salt and pepper
1 tablespoon butter
⅛ celeriac, peeled and roughly chopped
1 carrot, peeled and roughly chopped
1 onion, peeled and roughly chopped
1 tomato, quartered
1 pint of dark beer or ale
For the potato-celeriac mash:
1¾ pounds potatoes
¼ celeriac, peeled
scant 1 cup milk
2 tablespoons butter
Handful chopped parsley and bread for serving
Braised pork cheeks:
1. Dry the pork cheeks with a paper towel and season with the salt a
nd pepper.
2. Let the butter turn golden in a saucepan over medium to high heat. Add the meat and brown it on all sides, roughly three to four minutes in total.
3. Add the celeriac, carrot, and onion and let them brown before adding the tomato.
4. Pour in the beer. Add water if necessary to cover the meat and vegetables.
5. Turn the heat down low and simmer for about an hour and a half, until the meat is tender.
6. Remove the meat but continue boiling to reduce the sauce, then put it through a sieve and season.
Potato-celeriac mash:
1. Cut the potatoes and celeriac into bite-size pieces.
2. Boil the potatoes and celeriac until tender, then drain and mash the vegetables.
3. Warm the milk in the pan, and add it and the butter to the mash. Season.
4. Serve the braised pork cheeks on a bed of mash. You may add a sprinkle of parsley and some bread* to mop up the sauce.
BOLLER I KARRY
[BALL-R E CARI]
DANISH MEATBALLS IN CURRY
This traditional Danish recipe is very popular among Danes of all ages. This was my mother’s favorite dish and, even though she died almost twenty years ago, I still make it every year on her birthday. What better way of remembering the ones we have lost than by cooking their favorite meal? It can turn a sad occasion into a hyggelig evening. Do not be concerned if you are not a fan of spicy food. This is a very mildly spiced dish, and many Danish kids are big fans.
Serves 4. Cooking time 1 hour and 35 minutes (including 1 hour for the mix to rest).
1 cup breadcrumbs, or 2 tablespoons flour
1 egg
2 onions, peeled and finely chopped
3 garlic cloves
Salt and pepper
4 ½ pounds ground pork
4 cups beef stock
For the curry sauce:
2 tablespoons butter
2 heaping tablespoons of mild yellow curry powder
1 large onion, peeled and chopped
1 large leek, peeled and finely chopped
5 tablespoons flour
½ cup heavy cream
Handful chopped fresh parsley
1. Place the bread crumbs or flour with the egg, onions, garlic, salt, and pepper in a big bowl and mix it well. Add the pork, mix it again, and leave in the fridge for one hour.
2. Take the mixture out of the fridge and use a spoon to form little balls. Add water to a cooking pot and bring it to a boil over high heat. Add the beef stock and the meatballs into the boiling water and let them simmer for five to ten minutes. Remove the meatballs from the water, but retain some of the liquid for later use.
3. Melt the butter in a pot, add the curry powder, and let it brown for a couple of minutes.
4. Add the chopped onion and leek and let them brown for a couple of minutes. Add flour and mix well. Then add some of the cooking liquid, little by little, stirring until the sauce thickens. Add the cream and the meatballs and simmer for about twelve minutes.
5. Garnish with parsley and serve with rice.
GLØGG
(GLOEG)
MULLED WINE
No December is complete without the traditional gløgg. Danes will meet at bars or invite friends and family over to wish each other a Merry Christmas over this warm, spicy wine.
Serves 6–10. Cooking time 20 minutes (plus soaking time for raisins)
For the gløgg essence:
4 handfuls of raisins
10 ounces port
1 bottle of heavy red wine, such as Beaujolais or Côtes du Rhone*
1 cup brown sugar (preferably a brown sugar that consists of sugar crystals and cane syrup—but normal brown sugar will do)
20g cinnamon sticks (8 to 10 sticks)
20g allspice (whole)
20g cloves (whole)
10g cardamom (whole)
For the gløgg:
2 bottles of heavy red wine, such as Beaujolais or Côtes du Rhone
¾ cup brown rum
¾ cup akvavit (or vodka)
Peel of 1 orange
¾ cup freshly squeezed orange juice
1 cup chopped almonds
1. Soak the raisins in the port, preferably for 24 hours.
2. Start by making the gløgg essence. Pour the bottle of red wine into a pot, add the sugar and cinnamon, allspice, cloves, and cardamom, and heat to just below boiling point. Turn off the heat and allow to cool, then strain out the aromatics.
3. Add the additional bottles of red wine, spirits, orange peel and juice to the gløgg essence. Again, heat to just below boiling point, and then add the raisins, port and the almonds. Serve warm.
SNOBRØD
(SNO-BROEÐ)*
TWISTBREAD
This dish is not likely to be featured at Noma any time soon. It is not the fanciest bread you’ll ever have, but the process of making it gets top marks for hygge and kids love it.
Makes 6 pieces.
Cooking time 1 hour and 15 minutes (including 1 hour for the dough to rest).
2 tablespoons butter
1 cup milk
6½ teaspoons yeast
2 teaspoons sugar
¾ teaspoon salt
3⅛ cup flour
1. Melt the butter in a saucepan and add the milk. Heat until lukewarm. Add the yeast and dissolve.
2. Pour the mix into a large bowl and add the other ingredients to make a dough, but save a little bit of the flour. Knead the dough well and put it back into the bowl. Cover and leave it to rise for about an hour in a warm place.
3. Put the dough on a flour-covered surface and knead well again. You may add the rest of the flour at this point. Divide the dough into six pieces and roll each piece into a strip about 16 inches long, then wind around a thickish stick.
4. Bake the bread over the embers of a fire, but be careful not to have the bread too close to the heat. The bread will be baked sufficiently when it gives a hollow sound when you knock on it, or when it easily slips off the stick. Baking time depends on the fire and your patience, but usually around ten minutes.
HYGGE TIP: CREATE A COOKING CLUB
A few years ago, I wanted to create some kind of system that would mean I would get to see some of my good friends on a regular basis, so we formed a cooking club. This was in part prompted by my work, as the importance of our relationships always emerges as a key indicator of why some people are happier than others. Furthermore, I wanted to organize the cooking club in a way that maximized the hygge. So instead of taking turns being the host and cooking for the five or six other people, we always cook together. That is where the hygge is. The rules are simple. Each time there is a theme, or a key ingredient—for example, duck or sausages—each person brings ingredients to make a small dish to fit the theme. It creates a very relaxed, informal, egalitarian setting, where no one person has to cater for the guests—or live up to the standards of the last fancy dinner party.
One of the most hyggelig evenings we have had in the cooking club was the time we tried to make sausages. We spent three or four hours mincing the meat, stuffing the casings, boiling and frying the sausages. Feeling proud of ourselves, we were looking at mountains of sausages when we were finally able to sit down, around ten o’clock in the evening, hungry as Vikings. The result: disastrous. The first taste sensation I got was mold. Not exactly what you are looking for in a sausage. We might have gone to bed slightly hungry that night—but the evening had been very hyggelig.
CHAPTER FIVE
CLOTHING
CASUAL IS KEY
When it comes to Denmark, casual is key. Danes in general enjoy a casual tone, a casual atmosphere, and a casual dress code.
You will not find many three-piece suits on the streets of Copenhagen, and if you are part of the pinstriped business brigade, you are bound to find the Danish way of dressing almost sloppy. However, you may in time discover that there is a Danish art to master being stylish and casual at the same time. For the casual yet stylish look, m
any people—including me—go with the combo of a T-shirt or sweater on the inside and then a blazer on the outside. I prefer the ones with leather patches on the elbows for the hygge and for the professor look. In fact, I may overuse the patches a little bit, as my friends joke that if they need to look for me when I am standing with my back to them in a crowded bar, they just look out for the patches.
