It doesn't get more Scandinavian than Smørrebrød, as we all know from The Muppet Show. But the world's most elaborate sandwich also tastes incomparably delicious.
Smørrebrød, Smørrebrød, Römpömpömpöm! The tune to which the Muppets' Swedish chef puppet set off new, absurd cooking adventures still rings in the ears of many of a certain generation. It was the time when even Americans thought they could make fun of the shoals of Scandinavian cooking. And it had an element of truth – until the mid-2000s, there was hardly any culinary reason to go to Copenhagen, Oslo or Stockholm. A bumbling, pseudo-French wasteland dominated the food served up even in the most elegant restaurants, not to mention the endless expanses of provinces in Scandinavia.
However, smørrebrød, literally "buttered bread" in Danish, has been a traditional festive lunch for centuries, and is a delicacy without equal anywhere in the world. The unreasonably richly topped rye bread is considered by connoisseurs to be perhaps the most refined form of sandwich ever. It exists in countless, mostly strictly codified variations with fish and meat, caviar and egg, even potatoes and beetroot – and it is always garnished as richly as it is stringently thought through. Its preparation requires special knowledge of cultural history and gastronomy as well as advanced craftsmanship, which is why there is still a profession in Denmark that is explicitly and exclusively dedicated to the professional preparation of elaborate sandwiches: that of the Smørrebrødjomfru or sandwich maker.
Sol over Gudhjem, translating as "sun over Gudhjem" (a place on the Danish island of Bornholm famous for its smokehouses) is such a monument of a smørrebrød: grainy rye bread spread with delicately salty Danish sour cream butter. On top comes hot smoked herring, freshly filleted and boned, with not too finely chopped chives and razor-thin sliced radishes. The finale is an onion ring (a red onion no less), in the middle of which a raw egg yolk is very gently placed. The customer grinds black pepper generously on top, salts cautiously and cuts into it so that the yolk pours over the creation like sunny lava. This is exorbitantly good, but can only be made with freshly caught, freshly smoked herring so it is therefore a typical summer delicacy reserved for the Danes.
The recipe below is no less elaborate, but can also be made elsewhere. An important note: you drink beer with it – and iced aquavit.
