Imagine sitting down at a table knowing that the next four to five hours will be a continuous stream of culinary creations — fifty in total. Each one different. Each one deliberate. Each one designed to provoke a specific emotional or sensory response. This is the reality of the world’s most ambitious tasting menu format, and it exists in a converted warehouse in Copenhagen.
The Philosophy Behind Extremity
At first glance, fifty courses sounds excessive — even absurd. But the approach is rooted in a carefully constructed philosophy: by reducing the size of each course to just a few bites, the kitchen can take diners on a journey that spans the full spectrum of human emotion. Joy, surprise, nostalgia, discomfort, wonder — all are deliberately triggered through food.
The meal is not presented as a simple sequence of dishes. Instead, it unfolds across multiple rooms and environments. You might begin in a dimly lit space, move to a kitchen counter, then find yourself in what feels like an art installation. The food is inseparable from its context.
“It is not about being full. It is about being moved. Each bite is a sentence in a story that takes five hours to tell.”
The Opening Act: Courses 1–15
The experience typically opens with a series of rapid-fire amuse-bouches. These are light, playful, and designed to awaken the palate. Think of them as the overture to an opera — setting the tone, introducing themes, and hinting at what’s to come. Flavours are bright and acidic, textures are crisp and ephemeral.
The Development: Courses 16–35
This is where the meal deepens. Courses become more substantial, more complex, and more emotionally charged. Fermented ingredients appear. Umami builds. The environment shifts. You might taste a dish that evokes a childhood memory you didn’t know you had, followed by something so unfamiliar it challenges your very definition of food.
The Climax: Courses 36–45
By this point, the meal reaches its dramatic peak. The most technically ambitious and emotionally resonant courses arrive. These are the dishes that linger in memory for years — the ones people describe when they tell you about the experience. Flavour combinations are bolder, presentations more theatrical, and the boundary between food and art dissolves entirely.
The Resolution: Courses 46–50
The final courses bring you gently back to earth. Sweetness appears, but not in the conventional dessert sense. The flavours become softer, rounder, more comforting. There’s a sense of closure, of completeness. The last course is always simple — a final whisper after hours of conversation.
Is It Worth It?
The fifty-course format is not for everyone. It requires patience, openness, and a willingness to surrender control. You cannot choose what you eat. You cannot rush. You must trust the kitchen completely. But for those who embrace it, the experience is genuinely transformative. It redefines what dining can be and, by extension, what food means.
In a world of quick meals and convenience, this is the ultimate act of culinary devotion — both by the chefs who create it and the diners who experience it.