At Copenhagen’s Koan, Kristian Baumann Turns a Dual Identity Into a Culinary Strength
Observer · · g2618425
Baumann’s 18-course menu moves between Korea and Denmark, using fermentation, seafood and memory to turn the space between two cultures into Koan’s defining strength.
A stroll along the Copenhagen waterfront, past the famous Little Mermaid statue, will bring you to Koan , a two-Michelin-starred restaurant that opened in April 2023. It’s hidden under the archway of an elevated pedestrian path that stretches along Langeliniekaj quay, the area of Refshaleøen visible across the water . It’s a location that requires a short journey, but that is perhaps why Koan has become one of Denmark’s most exciting culinary spots since its debut. The restaurant is led by chef Kristian Baumann, who grew up in Denmark after being adopted from Korea as a baby. At Koan, he’s fully embraced his dual heritage.
“I always thought it was my weakness to be in between the two places,” Baumann says as we walk along Langeliniekaj after my lunch at Koan in early October. “I had worked for many great chefs, but I was always looking for something that could be my own. I finally found the confidence where I realized: It’s not my weakness that I’m adopted and that I’m in between two worlds. It’s my strength.”
Baumann, 40, initially conceptualized Koan in 2011, but it wasn’t until 2020 that he could actually bring it to life. His previous eatery, Restaurant 108, closed that fall, and Baumann quickly launched Koan as a pop-up, first in Refshaleøen and then in the former Relæ space, where it stayed for a year and a half. He used his personal savings to fund Koan and co-owns the restaurant with its general manager and head sommelier, Lasse Peder Nielsen .
“Everyone thought I was completely crazy to start a fine dining restaurant in the middle of a global pandemic,” he says. “Everything was so uncertain. But I was willing to take that chance and adapt, and I think we were rewarded for our approach to this uncertain experience.”
Baumann found Koan’s permanent space in the summer of 2022. It had previously been a restaurant, but a much more casual one, with tables and chairs covering an outdoor patio. The chef envisioned it very differently the moment he walked in the door. “I told my wife, ‘This is it,’” Baumann says. “I could feel it, like the tables were going to be here. We were going to build the kitchen there. The waiters could have their own section. I knew it could become very special. And it’s perfect for us because we can be here for a very long time. I see myself getting old in this space.”
Before opening Koan, Baumann worked in several of Copenhagen’s top restaurants, including Noma . He grew up in a small town outside the city, where he was exposed to the best of Denmark’s produce. His family raised chickens, and he worked on a farm picking berries and fruit for a few years as a kid. He moved to Copenhagen at 18 for culinary school and began learning in the country’s kitchens, including several stages at Noma . After spending time working in France, Baumann joined forces with Christian Puglisi to co-found Manfreds and Relæ, both of which are now closed. In 2016, he opened Restaurant 108 in partnership with Noma co-founder René Redzepi . It went on to earn one Michelin star.
“There are a lot of people who are very talented here who haven’t worked at Noma and don’t have a connection with Noma,” Baumann says of Copenhagen’s culinary landscape. “But Noma has played a huge role in my career. And it has given the average Dane a much better understanding of ingredients and seasonality. Noma has paved the way for other chefs and for gastronomy to do something new.”
He adds that Noma has helped to transform Copenhagen into a lifestyle city over the past decade. “People come here for the Louisiana Museum or because they want to visit the bakeries,” he says. “They come in the summer because they want to jump in the harbor. They want to have coffee or go to this little cafe. Sometimes I think to myself, ‘Why would you choose Copenhagen all of a sudden over Paris, London, Barcelona?’ Not for the weather. You choose it for the lifestyle. It’s safe. You have fresh air. There’s much more diversity here now.”
It’s this shift that has allowed Koan to thrive. Baumann doesn’t think the restaurant would have succeeded if he’d opened it in 2011. “It was too early,” he says. “But by 2020, they were ready. But I also realized there is no right time. You have to jump, and you either make it or you don’t. If you believe in it, if you show up every day and you give your best, that’s all you can do.”
Although Baumann grew up in a Danish family and was taught many Nordic culinary traditions during his training, he also had early exposure to Korean cuisine. His parents adopted both Baumann and his sister from Korea, and made the effort to ensure they were part of the local Korean-Danish community. “There were a lot of adopted children here, so we always went to these gatherings and saw other children,” Baumann remembers. “I was always very curious about my birth country.”
Baumann began traveling to Korea in 2017, both for business and vacation. He is constantly learning new things about the country’s traditions, ingredients and recipes. “Not only did I have a connection inside of me to Korea, but I felt like I had this apprentice mind again,” he says. “The curiosity was really amplified by being there and seeing so many things I hadn’t seen before. I have a better and broader understanding now, but generally it’s nice to be in a place where you’re learning.”
Koan’s 18-course menu draws on both of Baumann’s backgrounds. It reflects on the overlap of the two cuisines, particularly when it comes to fermentation and preservation—practices common to both Korean and Scandinavian cuisines. There are expected Korean elements, like kimchi, pine and rice, but everything is presented in an unexpected way. The white kimchi, made with kohlrabi, constitutes one of the snacks. It’s artfully rolled and augmented by herbs and a granita made with the pickling liquid.
“That kimchi is exciting for me because it’s not spicy and it’s about lacto-fermentation,” Baumann explains. “It is a very traditional kimchi, but what we add to it takes the flavor in other directions and lifts the dish into a new experience.”
Another nod to Korea is the inclusion of rice, which is cooked in a traditional cast-iron gamasot pot. Baumann combines three types of rice, which are currently imported from Japan because Korean rice is so difficult to get in Denmark. It’s served first as a rice bowl with raw vegetables and shrimp, accompanied by a plate of carefully arranged banchans, classic Korean side dishes. The next dish uses the caramelized rice from the bottom of the pot. When I dined, the dual rice dishes concluded the savory section of the menu—a conscious choice by Baumann not to end with a big plate of meat.
“Pacing is very important,” he says. “When you sit down at a restaurant, something needs to happen straight away. So we know the snack section needs to go quite fast, and then we slow down a little bit. By the time you get to the main course, you have been at a restaurant for around two hours. Maybe you’re a bit tired, so we feel like something fun needs to happen. The rice dish creates a moment where you forget how long you’ve been there.”
Baumann prefers to focus on seafood and vegetables, rather than meat. During my meal, the only meat on the entire menu was some crispy chicken skin on the caramelized rice. The chef previously used Korean blood sausage in a dish, which won the Danish Dish of the Year prize in 2024, and combined beef and langoustine in another. He took both of those off the menu because he was “tired of looking at them.” Now the focus is on Danish lobster, brown crab and caviar. The caviar dish, created from homemade tofu coated in GastroUnika caviar, is precise and delicious. “We can’t take that off the menu,” the chef admits.
Also impossible to remove: Baumann’s signature dessert. It’s composed of an oolong milk tea soufflé and a bowl of roasted seaweed ice cream drizzled with hazelnut and topped with more caviar—an incredible combination of flavors, textures and temperatures. The chef has dubbed it “Oolong Tea & Good Memories” because the ice cream dish dates back to 2017.
“It’s from 108, and when we opened here, several people were like, ‘Are you going to serve that dessert again?’” he recalls. “I wasn’t. But when you hear that a few times, you think, ‘Fuck it. People like it. Why not?’ It went from the ice cream to two dishes served together, and it really works.”
Koan was awarded two Michelin stars surprisingly quickly. The team received an invitation to go to the Michelin ceremony in Finland only 10 weeks after opening, although Baumann didn’t want to get his hopes up. At the ceremony, all of the new one-star restaurants were called to the stage. Koan wasn’t one of them.
“I always prepare for the worst and hope for the best,” Baumann says. “I thought we might get some kind of ‘One to Watch’ award. But when we saw our name with two stars, I felt like the stone that I had carried around since 2011, when I had the idea for Koan, disappeared. To get that approval from Michelin can really help a restaurant. And we needed it—we were over budget, and we didn’t have a billionaire behind us. We needed those reservations to come in.”
The reservations did come in. Koan was able to hire more staff and improve its service. “I’m so grateful for all the guests who come back and say, ‘This is better than it was the last time,’” Baumann notes. “And it should be. I want us to keep moving. What I think brings people to a table is a sense of curiosity and then connection, and it’s very important for the guests to connect with the staff and the chefs.”
Baumann describes Koan as “a place where Denmark and Korea meet.” He doesn’t want the restaurant to be one specific thing. Like him, it’s in between.
“We have so many Korean guests from all over the world, and people say, ‘There are so many flavors we know with flavors we don’t know,’” Baumann says. “And the guests who are non-Korean say the same. And that is exciting. It opens the door to a new world. If someone is curious after a meal with us to go to Korea, then we have played our part, and that makes me very happy.”
Baumann has more plans, both for Koan and for other opportunities, though he isn’t able to discuss them yet. He believes in the adage “slow and steady wins the race,” which he describes as the “turtle theory.”
“We keep pushing every day,” he acknowledges. “There’s a lot going on at the moment that I can’t say, but I’m venturing into unknown territory, which is very exciting. Hopefully, we’ll be able to share things very soon.”
As we walk back to Koan so he can begin preparing for the dinner service, Baumann says he’s become especially contemplative recently. Maybe he’s overthinking things, he says. Or, perhaps, he’s finding clarity. The sun finally pushes through the clouds above Copenhagen, a hopeful sign.
The chef says he’s preoccupied with time, in part because he just turned 40 and in part because he recently lost his mother. “I’m very focused on time and what we should do with the time while we’re here,” he says. “So if something seems like a good idea, I want to give it a try. Maybe it works, and maybe it doesn’t, but at least I tried. I like that approach.”