At Geist, biting into coffee-braised shiitake mushrooms sprinkled with cashews and an assertive wasabi toffee and cream dessert, I can almost hear Bo Bech proclaim: To be Danish is to be curious and bold! Christian Puglisi's religiously organic Bæst shows me that the story of pizza is not complete. There are still new things to be done, like top blistered pies with preserved pine and housemade 'nduja using Denmark's exceptional pork. Palægade, a wildly popular new spot for smørrebrød, tells me that the city's cool kids aren't too cool for gnarly throwbacks, like towering open-face sandwiches of stinky cheese, raw onion, veal gelatin, and sprinkles of rum. At the popular brunch spot Møller in cool-kid zone Nørrebro, I find there's no line to order. Instead, I observe a crowd slowly approach the register, one by one, in the order in which they arrived, according to some mysterious system. My silent number is called and I ask for a bowl of øllebrød, a porridge made of dark rye bread crumbs and beer, which doesn't speak back but does taste delicious, like richer, tangier oatmeal.