Honestly, we have been ducking Noma for years. Why? Hard to say. Was it the duck brain custard, the reindeer penis ragout, or the thought of a live shrimp twitching on our plate? One thing is certain, if we got a pound for every time someone asked, “Have you been to Noma?” it could have paid for our meal.
Some dishes always felt more like a dare than dinner. And low-intervention wines? Let us be honest, I have never been one to enjoy sipping on something that tastes like fizzy apple cider mixed with gym socks.
Noma did not just embrace them, it turned them into a movement. It was the epicentre, the superspreader of natural wine in fine dining during its early years.
My wife read something about them closing down at the end of 2025 and asked if we should book a table before it was too late. I told her, “They are always closing down.” But in the end, I gave in. At least now, we can finally answer the question, “Have you been to Noma? How was it?”
We took a taxi and were greeted in the parking area by two of Noma’s staff members. I felt for them, it was freezing outside, but they were in good spirits as they checked our reservation. A short walk straight ahead, with Noma’s greenhouses and separate yet interconnected buildings to the right, revealed just how big Noma is.
When the entrance appeared, all I could think of was the series Vikings. I almost expected to be greeted by Floki as we entered the Althing. Instead, we were met by more staff, who took our jackets and led us to our table.
Passing the large open kitchen, we encountered the famous Noma greeting, the entire kitchen brigade lined up in formation to welcome guests. It was quite the entrance.
The restaurant is not as big as I had imagined, and the tables are quite close together, making it easy to hear conversations from neighbouring tables. The décor reflected the ocean season, beams in the roof were covered in mussel shells, and many other details amplified the theme.
It actually started before we even stepped inside, with mussel shells covering the ground along the path to the entrance.
We had just settled into our seats when, out of nowhere, a thunderous “YES, CHEF!” erupted from the kitchen, loud enough to make a drill sergeant jealous. Nearby, a communal table sat in a separate room next to the kitchen, ideal for solo diners looking to join the cult.
Jellied Crab Head
At Noma, everyone seemed to serve all tables at all times. Each time someone approached us, it was a new face. Fine, if it works, it did not.
To put it mildly, it was confusing. We thought Eleven Madison Park in New York was a hectic, stressful service, but at least it looked like they had a system. Here, it was disorganised, with staff constantly reacting rather than following a well-rehearsed flow.
I have written before about the dance of service, that seamless rhythm between the kitchen, staff, and guests. At Noma, it felt more like they were running around putting out small fires.
The pacing was all over the place. Despite booking an early 17.15 slot, guests arriving later overtook us by two or three courses. Even a four-person table lapped us.
It is never a good feeling to be left behind, but no one seemed to notice. Was the kitchen out of sync? Were some tables prioritised over others? We will never know.
The inconsistencies piled up. Plates sat empty for too long before being cleared. Wet towels were forgotten after hand-eaten courses. We found ourselves staring at our wine bottle metres away while our glasses remained empty. Yes, we have been there before… At this level, details matter.
To sum it up, service was both good and bad. The enthusiasm was there, but the service never quite found its rhythm.
Seaweed á la Créme
Noma operates on three seasonal menus: Ocean (winter), Vegetable (spring/summer), and Game & Forest (autumn). This was the Ocean Season, meaning almost everything came from the sea.
Unlike Frantzén, where you get a preview of the night’s ingredients at the end of the snack service, Noma placed key ingredients on our table from the start, offering a glimpse of what would feature in the meal.
We expected the usual parade of snacks to start, almost standard practice for a three-Michelin-star restaurant. Not here. Instead, they went full-on from the beginning, which was a refreshing take.
First up, a whole king crab was presented. Then, the first course: two legs, lightly grilled on a bed of seaweed, served with a lemon. The flavour? Incredibly fresh, pure, and probably the best king crab we had eaten.
In total, fifteen dishes were served. Clearly influenced by their pop-up in Japan, the red thread was seaweed, either as a whole dish or woven into other dishes.
One part of the main course was a bowl filled with seaweed, with a mussel broth underneath, a taste of the sea. I love when flavours take you places. This one took me straight to the coast of Bohuslän in Sweden.
Crab Broth
Another dish, the crab broth, was served with two crab shells glued together with beeswax. The broth was full of brett, with some yuzu to lift it. It reminded me of my childhood home, a farm—more specifically, the stable in the early morning. My wife, however, loved it and thought it was one of the best dishes of the night.
There were highlights, but not everything was to our taste. The octopus, was it cured?, was too big, too rubbery, and unpleasant to eat. A stark contrast to the versions we had at Jordnær, where it was done beautifully.
Another dish, the scallop, was hard-burnt underneath, making it a crisp skin while the rest was raw. So fresh the nerves were still twitching. It was not alive, but it certainly looked like it.
This dinner was about innovation over ingredients, and a whole lot of seaweed.
Scallop Steak
Fresh Hazelnuts – Chanterelles
Even though not everything hit the mark, it was a meal worth having, and at last, we can say, “Yes, we have been to Noma. How was it? Well…
Would we return? My wife would like to go back for the vegetable season. Me? I know they have a fermentation lab, and I do not have a stomach of steel for all that acidity, topped off with low-intervention wines. It is a no from me.
Amazake Mousse – Fruits – Kelp
✽ Cover picture: Cardamom Sea Star
First time
Three-star
Dinner
17.15
Cosy
Low-intervention wines.
Moderate, sometimes loud from other guests. Good atmosphere. 60–65 dB.
Her - Yes
Him - No
A tough one. We are not sure. Maybe?
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