A touch of magic

Stepping into the main dining room of Alchemist — an immense planetarium-like structure — you’re instantly aware you’re about to experience something unlike anything you’ve encountered before. Its two Michelin stars and eighth position on The World’s 50 Best Restaurants list for 2024 are well earned.

Overhead, a colossal, pulsating heart is projected onto the dome, its rhythmic beats syncing with an intricate circulatory system sprawling across the ceiling. The entire space glows crimson, with an ambient soundtrack that heightens the room’s visceral energy. As with every element at Alchemist, this isn’t spectacle for spectacle’s sake. The heart is deeply symbolic. First conceptualised by chef Rasmus Munk at Alchemist’s original venue in Berlin, it accompanied a course designed to encourage diners to become organ donors — just one example of how Munk integrates cause into craft, a theme that becomes increasingly evident as the dinner progresses.

Rewind half an hour, and the prelude to this journey begins in an unassuming industrial stretch of Copenhagen — silent, grey, and offering little hint of the magic ahead. That is, until I encounter the 2-tonne, 4m-tall bronze door — an artwork in itself. From this moment on, as the door slowly opens, the Alchemist experience begins. Led by a seemingly endless brigade of chefs, waiters, sommeliers, and performers, a mental labyrinth unfolds through 50 curated impressions spread across 32 dishes, 11 drink pairings, five rooms, five acts, four scenes, and an epilogue.

The chef’s “holistic cuisine” blurs the lines between art, technology, music, science, theatre, and food at every step. An AI installation (a secret worth keeping) ends with Einstein’s famous quote, “Imagination is more important than knowledge,” setting the tone for the rest of the dinner.

Throughout the experience, Munk explores the core theme of identity — his own, that of the diner, and the shared human experience. He draws on a vast array of references that include memories and heritage, alongside broader themes such as culture, sustainability, food security, and the future of food. There are dishes that play on nostalgia, evoking emotions tied to his own history.

“The Perfect Omelette”, for example, is an homage to Munk’s culinary-school days, where he obsessed over mastering the delicate dish. At Alchemist, though, it’s unlike any omelette you’ve had before. An egg-yolk membrane (shaped in a 3D mould) is topped with a paper-thin layer of Joselito pork jowl. It bursts to reveal a gloriously rich egg-and-Comté cream, delivering all the familiar flavours but with a completely unexpected texture. The “Sunburnt Bikini” transports diners to Barcelona, where the humble ham-and-cheese bikini toast is a beloved staple — one Munk often enjoys. This version takes shape as a sphere of cryo-fried mochi dough filled with Gruyère and Joselito ham, creating a crisp, toast-like exterior with a sweet, chewy, cheesy inside.

Other dishes are inspired by personal experiences and global travels, often with a Danish twist. The “Daisy”, a cocktail served in a daisy-shaped vessel — the unofficial flower of the Netherlands — features a bold yellow, yolk-like centre. This nod to Munk’s travels through South America is actually a spherified pisco sour topped with Colombian-mandarin foam and finished with lime. A tiny, punchy sip, it merges the chef’s love for the two regions. The “Lobster Claw” pays homage to the Connecticut-style lobster roll. Here, butter-poached Danish lobster is encased in the “world’s most aerated bread” — a crispy vodka-and-cornstarch shell of Munk’s creation — dusted with fermented tomato, and served with horseradish butter sauce. The dish balances the sweet lobster, crisp shell, umami notes, and subtle spice to sublime effect.

Sustainability is central to Alchemist’s philosophy. “Plastic Fantastic” tackles ocean pollution through an edible plastic vortex made from algae and fish collagen. Beneath it lie tempura-battered cod cheeks served with a tartar sauce of summer pickles — a clever, purposeful, delicious dish. “Wiped Out” focuses on declining insect populations. Served on a mini windscreen coated with savoury mealworm garum — made from mealworms raised on kitchen scraps — alongside farmed cabbage butterflies and pickled sweet cicely, it mimics a bug-splattered windshield, though this one is meant to be licked clean.

Munk doesn’t shy away from difficult conversations, delving even deeper into food scarcity and waste. “Hunger” is a haunting reminder of global food inequality. A delicate layer of rabbit meat drapes over a silver ribcage, forcing guests to confront the paradox of abundance and famine. In “What Came First?”, the kitchen challenges food waste by using chicken heads and eggshells, the latter forming part of a research project that sees them repurposed into the plate itself. It’s a dish that redefines the value of by-products and promotes a circular-kitchen model. The crispy, fat-coated, compressed head is paired with classic Danish flavours of smoked cheese, caviar, chopped chives, and cornflowers.

A step further, “Burnout Chicken” critiques the ethics of industrial farming. It arrives as a chicken leg with claw intact, placed inside a cage. Guests must “set the chicken free” from its cage before eating, prompting a direct engagement with the realities of factory farming. Once again, the dish is exceptional. The leg, made from the chicken thigh, is stuffed with a green-curry soufflé of chicken and shrimp, glazed with tamarind paste, and rolled in fried fjord shrimps and puffed potato for added crunch.

Alchemist also looks to the future of food, exploring alternative food sources and how we may eat both on Earth and in space. One of the first dishes, “Butterfly”, challenges conventional ideas of protein sources while addressing the urgent need for sustainable food solutions. It’s also rather daring. It arrives as a small, freeze-dried farmed tortoiseshell butterfly that sits atop a crispy “nettle leaf” made from a blend of juiced kale, parsley, and spinach, and is accompanied by fresh nettle cheese.

“Space Bread” takes the kitchen’s culinary experimentation to the stars, the result of a collaboration with the MIT Media Lab on food suitable for space travel. A bun of ultra-aerated soya meringue hints at how food might evolve beyond our planet. The meringue, made from 10-year-old soya sauce, is freeze-dried and topped with a dollop of caviar. It’s a brilliant mouthful. The bun, crispy for a moment, seems to disappear, leaving a lingering deep umami that bolsters the glorious savoury, nutty salinity of the caviar to its utmost.

These are just a handful of the impressions that make up this grand Alchemist production, each one enhanced by the crockery artworks on which they’re presented, the exceptional wines with which they are paired, the theatrics with which they are presented, the sensational service team who serve them, and the impressive surroundings of the projections and accompanying scores that bring them to life.

While there was a heart beating above me as I took my seat, by the end of the meal it felt as though I’d embarked on a journey through the brain of the chef himself. This is a kind of magic — not the smoke-and-mirrors type, but a deeper one. Purpose-driven, it stirs the mind, the senses, and the soul.

Alchemy is equal parts art installation, science experiment, and social commentary — all while never losing sight of wonder and the fact that this is, after all, dinner. alchemist.dk

From the March edition of Wanted, 2025