The culinary scene of Copenhagen is changing nearly as fast as old condemned buildings make way for new high-rises or shopping malls. Luckily, though, in an ocean of change, there are still islands of relative stand-still. Places where time does pass, but things still seem familiar. Want a bite of the real Copenhagen? Walk off the platform and pause for a minute to gaze at the impressive main concourse, then exit. Not through the iconic main entrance facing Tivoli Gardens, but rather through the back door.
Welcome to the quirky side of the street! Vesterbro is delightfully weird at times! Times have changed in Copenhagen, many of the old sub-standard tenements have been demolished or completely redone and few of the original hustlers and kingpins remain. It stands now a jagged up romantic sort of place where rough neck-neighborhood meets gentrification in a banged up pretty kind of way.
If the darkness of your soul so desires, you can still pick up anything from a dimebag of weed to a gram of heroin or a lady of the night. Or you can simply take your pick from some of the best food in Copehangen:. Welcome to Johns Hotdog Deli: in here you can get what the sign says⦠And really, what more could you want? Looking more like a battle-worn rock star than a chef with his long, white hair and ditto beard, John is the sacred keeper of a lost art: the Danish hotdog!
Originally peddled by push-cart stands scattered across the city, the hotdog was the original Danish street food and a unique take on the classic hotdog known throughout the world. Featuring a classic pork wiener on a toasted bun topped with not only ketchup and mustard but also classic Danish remoulade sauce , onions raw and fried plus pickle slices for good measure, it poses a slightly more nuanced spin on an often simple classic hotdog: Filling and overstuffed with a flavor profile that is at one time savory, sweet, acidic and spicy, with textures ranging from soft, and crunchy to chewy and everything in-between.
The few hotdog stands that remain generally make a decent living pushing surprisingly identical concoctions made from the same low-grade industry standard sausages and the same base set of cheap, equally unappealing bulk condiments to unsuspecting tourists β or the hopelessly nostalgic. For 10 years, his small iconic white sausage wagon on a backdrop of Tivoli Gardens was the first sight to greet international tourists descending on Copenhagen by train.
