Copenhagen’s growing appetite for communal dining
This article is part of FT Globetrotter’s guide to Copenhagen
“I think it’s pink,” says the young Danish girl opposite me as she pours multiple glasses of water. “It could be light brown,” I reply. We debate the colour of our painted table for several minutes, dutifully analysing its peculiar shade. “It’s dusky, for sure” one man offers in a strong Italian accent. “Between chestnut and salmon.” The deliberating comes to a halt as a member of staff rallies the room with details of today’s dinner: red lentil dal and fennel salad accompanied by garlic bread and a spicy pepper dip. It garners a round of applause and he throws his hands up as if it were Coachella, pausing for a moment before explaining logistics — a necessity when feeding 200 people without servers. When a colour is announced, two people from the table painted with the corresponding shade must collect dinner from the kitchen. And therein lies our problem.
This may seem like an unusual set-up — six strangers gathered for dinner — but not so at Absalon, a community hub in Copenhagen’s Vesterbro district. Here, several tables painted a spectrum of different colours fill the main hall each evening for the city’s most popular fællesspisning, the Danish practise of communal eating. A typical fællesspisning (that’s fellu-spees-ning, notably harder to pronounce than the now world-famous hygge) consists of a meal shared “family style” along tables, where guests serve themselves and their fellow diners. Since the pandemic, the city has witnessed increasing numbers of people seeking to connect with others over a meal, as Sally Hellborn Hansen, Absalon’s head chef, observes. “It’s happening more and more across the city,” she says. “After Covid, we gradually increased the number of tickets and sold out again and again. That demand has just continued.”
At dinner, we eye up a table across the room that is painted the same ambiguous hue as ours. When pink is called, they remain seated, unaware of our borderline-neurotic back and forth. “Brown it is,” the Italian concludes. It’s not a seamless start to the meal but it did get six strangers talking, and that is largely the point. Together, we collect heaped serving platters from the kitchen, dish the food on to one another’s plates and divide the chore of cleaning up afterwards. Sharing these tasks provides an easy way for guests to strike up conversation without it feeling contrived. You could call it social design: small interactions intentionally engineered to break down barriers. At Absalon, that’s objective number one. Limited signage means you have to ask the person next to you how to find the bathroom, for example, or what the WiFi password is. “It can cause chaos,” Hellborn Hansen remarks as she sips coffee in a flour-dusted apron. “But that can also be fun.”
The concept of fællesspisning can be traced back to 1859, when the first folkekøkken (people’s kitchen) opened in Odense as a place where the poor could access nutritious and inexpensive food. By the early 1900s, Denmark’s municipal kitchens were thriving, and though their numbers declined after the hardships of the second world war, when Denmark grew more prosperous, they’ve seen a resurgence in recent decades, particularly in Copenhagen. In the summer, residents organise street parties and civic happenings where car access is blocked to allow neighbours to dine together alfresco. “In the old days, harvest parties in Denmark’s rural villages would always feature one of these community-style dinners,” Hellborn Hansen continues, “so it’s been happening for a long time, but more and more as time goes on.”
Recent years have seen growing appetite for a more formalised approach to this tradition, with ticketed fællesspisning events popping up all over the Danish capital. Some, like the vegan folkekøkken at KraftWerket cultural centre, seek to promote a plant-based lifestyle, while others are hosted by restaurants that find themselves with surplus ingredients at the end of the week, in an effort to combat food waste. Some aim to provide creative solutions to pressing social issues. Send Flere Krydderier (“Send More Spices”) is one such example; the organisation was founded by ethnic minority women in 2013, and offers female migrants a path into the Danish labour market. Their café in Nørrebrohallen hosts a fællesspisning each Tuesday to Thursday, allowing visitors to sample dishes from the women’s native cuisines. One week that could be a Somali stew, the next a Cambodian curry. When I visit, it’s a Lebanese tabbouleh salad drizzled in tahini. Underpinning their ethos of “social gastronomy” is the idea that food creates cohesion and can be a useful instrument of social change.
Denmark is known for its strong sense of collectivity, but no culture is immune from the challenges of its time. When Covid-19 hit, the country was among the first European states to announce a national lockdown. “The pandemic created a fear of being together,” says Mille Nielsen, a regular at Absalon’s daily dinners. It’s a fear reflected in the results of a 2023 survey, which reported that almost 10 per cent of Danes feel lonely — a surprising statistic for a country that ranks consistently high in world happiness lists. Fællesspisning, according to Nielsen, makes a fine antidote to that loneliness. “At first, I just came here because it was close to my apartment,” she tells me over dessert, a plum-apple compote with macaroons and vanilla whipped cream, “but now there are many reasons. Everyone who comes here wants to be together, so it’s easier to meet people. It keeps me from being socially lazy, which I am prone to, especially in the winter.”
In a highly homogenous society, fællesspisning also functions as an opportunity to engage with diverse people and perspectives. I’ve shared baked cauliflower with an Indian biomedicine student and potato gratin with middle-aged women from the passport office. I’ve broken bread with art students and children, rated Beatles songs with Japanese tourists and swapped training tips with a running club, their cheeks still red from their pre-dinner 5k.
“I want it to keep on being as diverse as possible — kids, old people and everything in between,” Hellborn Hansen says. But there are still plenty of people — Danes among them — for whom fællesspisning is a novelty. “We have so many young people who bring their parents from Jutland or somewhere, and they say, ‘Wow, we’ve never tried anything like it!’” One of those people is Ben, an English software developer I met at his first fællesspisning after living in the city for five years. “I’d always thought this place was a soup kitchen for the homeless,” he confessed, prompting a knowing giggle from the table.
While fællesspisning is no longer a charity endeavour, it does provide a service for people looking to eat well on a budget, and Hellborn Hansen says there are also environmental benefits. “Instead of having 90 households turn on their oven, just one household does,” she says. Batch-cooking also allows places like Absalon to keep costs low, ensuring fællesspisning remains accessible with a meal costing anywhere between DKr20 and 100 ($3–$15/£2.25–£11.25) depending where you go. But in a famously expensive city that comes with its own cost, and as Absalon celebrates its ninth year in operation it is still running at a loss. “We hope this is the year that will change, not for profits, but for financial sustainability,” adds Hellborn Hansen.
Despite its challenges, it seems that Copenhagen’s communal-dining scene is here to stay. Hellborn Hansen is not, though. After spending an hour chatting on leafy Sønder Boulevard, where Absalon is located, she has to rush off for a meeting with a group looking to start their own fællesspisning. “Sometimes I’ll ask, ‘How many of you have not been here before?’, and almost every night 60 to 100 people raise their hand,” she reflects. “It’s amazing how many new people are coming. I’m like, ‘Where are these people coming from?’. But it happens. They keep coming.”
Five of the best fællesspisninger in Copenhagen
Absalon
Copenhagen’s largest and most popular fællesspisning feeds 200 people each evening. Meals are usually vegetarian but not always, so those with dietary requirements should consult the menu, which is published each week on its website. Advance booking is recommended, but if you’re feeling lucky, there is always one table reserved for walk-ins.
Price: DKr60 ($9/£6.80) per person, Sunday–Wednesday; DKr100 ($15/£11.25), Thursday–Saturday. Children under three eat for free
Opening times: Daily from 6pm
Address: Sønder Boulevard 73, Vesterbro, 1720 Copenhagen
Website; Directions
Send Flere Krydderier
A laid-back, canteen-style environment and a rotation of home-cooked dishes from across the world. In the kitchen, there’s an emphasis on seasonal ingredients and spices. Vegetarian options are always available.
Price: DKr75 for adults and DKr35 for children aged three to 10 (free for under threes)
Opening times: Tuesday–Thursday, 5pm–8pm
Address: Nørrebrohallen, Nørrebrogade 208, Nørrebro, 2200 Copenhagen
Website; Directions
Kanalhuset
Call it the Waitrose of fællesspisning. Every night, this 12-room boutique hotel in Christianshavn treats ticket-holders to high-spec meals like guinea fowl with ratatouille or Faroese salmon with tahini, all accompanied by views of the canal. The atmosphere is a little more formal (which is reflected in the price) but chef Kristofer Josefsson has a keen eye for quality ingredients. Vegetarian options are always available.
Price: DKr150 per person (free for children under four)
Opening times: Daily from 7pm
Address: Overgaden Oven Vandet 62A, Christianshavn, 1415 Copenhagen
Website; Directions
KraftWerket
The cultural centre hosts two regular fællesspisninger; the vegansk folkekøkken, a vegan cookout, and One Bowl, a more charitable endeavour that operates a “pay it forward” donation system to help those struggling with food insecurity. All meals are 100 per cent plant-based.
Price: DKr50 per person
Opening times: Vegan folkekøkken, Tuesday from 6pm; One Bowl, Sunday, 5pm–7pm
Address: Valgårdsvej 2, Valby, 2500 Copenhagen
Website; Directions
KU.BE
This weekly fællesspisning may well be the cheapest meal you’ll find in the leafy western borough of Frederiksberg. Kids will love it for the adjacent playground, which has slides, climbing walls and mazes; adults for a night off from the dishes. Vegetarian options are available, and dessert can be added for an extra DKr60 per person.
Price: DKr98 for adults and DKr75 for children (aged four to 12)
Opening times: Monday from 5.45pm
Address: Dirch Passers Allé 4, 2000 Frederiksberg
Website; Directions
— Stephanie Gavan
Have you been to a fællesspisning in Copenhagen? Tell us about it in the comments below. And follow FT Globetrotter on Instagram at @FTGlobetrotter
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