Forget about reindeer moss and sea buckthorn sorbet. The biggest food craze in Copenhagen is the humble cheese sandwich. Bolle med ost’ is Danish for a bun with butter and cheese. It’s been rebranded for a hip urban crowd, and with a whiff of irony, as the BMO, and is made up of exactly three ingredients: bread, butter and sliced cheese.
But, it’s, ideally, the best bread (Bolle), the best sea-salty butter (Med) and slices of excellent Danish cheese-usually Gammel, a crystal-studded Havarti that’s aged for at least two years, or Vesterhavsost, also known as “North Sea Cheese.” Everywhere you go in Copenhagen, you’ll see people lining up to buy one. And, despite it only having three ingredients, someone actually wrote a cookbook about BMOs.
To get to the bottom of why this most banal of sandwiches has inspired such frenzy, I set out for a day of BMO tasting with Lily and Marie, of My Dear Copenhagen, who are completely plugged into Copenhagen’s baking culture.
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Cover image by Daniel Rasmussen.
Our plan was to bike to the shops of the most lauded of the new generation of bakers who’ve helped make Copenhagen the bakery capital of the world (sorry, Paris). Many are former Noma chefs. Others pride themselves on not having gone through the Noma system. We would take a taste of a BM0 at each one. But before that, an overview: “Nowadays, you can basically find bakeries on every corner of Copenhagen, influencers lining up in the rain to get a cardamom bun, and snapping photos of bakery windows. But it wasn’t always like this. There is a history of rye bread in Denmark that goes back to the Vikings. Yet through the 1970s, 80s, and 90s, the baking scene was quite dead. People used to buy industrial bread at the gas station or supermarket. Then came what is known as the Danish Sourdough Revolution,” Lily said.
Our first stop was Apotek 57, a bakery and café inside the showroom of Frama, a well-known Danish design firm, on the site of a 19th century pharmacy. The location faces a block of screaming yellow 18th-row houses built for naval members. This pretty picture was made more appealing by the ultra-stylish crowd queuing up.
I peered into Apotek’s tiny kitchen and saw what seemed like an infinity mirror image of BMO plates being prepared. We ordered ours to go. I took my first taste of the trending item, standing by my rented bike. It didn’t take me long to see the appeal. A case of simplicity done to perfection. The fresh sesame seed bun, the aged cheese with a few crystals, the soft, salty butter. Yum.
Soon we were cycling past the King’s Gardens and the Rosenborg Castle to Riviera, owned by Italian-born Chiara Barla (who also owns Apotek 57), and here, too, people were brunching on BMOs and beautiful Danish pastries, including Riviera’s signature spandauers.
Barla explained that what makes BMOs so interesting is that they’re the Platonic ideal of a breakfast sandwich. “With only three ingredients, a BMO has nowhere to hide. It has to be the best quality”. Riviera’s BMO came in a slightly charred sourdough bun with just the right amount of density, chew and tanginess, delicious Danish butter and two slices of salty Danish cheese.
Each BMO tastes and looks different. Some might have a sesame seed bun, some poppyseed, some plain sourdough. The proper ratio -bun to cheese to butter – also makes the difference. The spreadability and saltiness of the butter have to be just right, too. There are a lot of factors, it’s positively mathematical. In fact, two anonymous Danes, purported to be mathematicians, have created a website that ranks the city’s BMOs using an equation they developed.
Riviera bakery, image courtesy of My Beautiful Copenhagen.
Next stop was the ultimate insider Copenhagen bakery. Sinne Gas, a tiny shop on the aptly named Ryesgade street, in hip Østerbro, has no front-of-house staff. Payment operates on the honour system. There was room for only a couple of customers at a time, but there was more than enough space for the intoxicating aroma of baking bread coming from the kitchen. And the finished product: Sourdough that was a dream-slightly crispy on the outside, with a tangy aftertaste. The salty Vesterhavs cheese and whipped butter complemented the bun perfectly. They also make stellar cardamom buns, so we grabbed one of those for good measure.
We veered our bikes towards the culturally diverse Nørrebro neighbourhood, and to Meyers bakery. It was our fourth stop, but historically, philosophically, Meyers could be first on the list. “This tiny bakery is where it all started,” Marie said. Calling owner Claus Meyers “a sort of visionary.” He was the founder of the New Nordic Cuisine Movement and co-founder of Noma, she explained how local farmers had reintroduced Meyers to a high-quality ancient grain called Öland, “full of gluten, high in protein and very good flavour. He sold this flour from his shop because he wanted to bring to normal people the knowledge of sourdough and slow fermentation.” During COVID, as we all know, the sourdough trend boomed, “and it was the start of the BMO trend too, because bakeries were among the only places continuously open”.
Meyers bakery, image courtesy of My Beautiful Copenhagen.
Hart bakery, seen on The Bear, image courtesy of My Beautiful Copenhagen.
Hart is probably the best known of all Copenhagen bakeries, thanks to the TV series The Bear. Emily Corbeil, the Canadian manager at Hart’s Nørrebro branch, said: “I really do feel that our sourdough bread is the best bread in Copenhagen. It has a really nice chew, not too dry or soggy or soft.” It tasted brilliant with slices of Efterglød, a premium aged cheese with brown butter notes, and a smear of creamy butter.
By the time we got to Rondo, another local favourite, it was afternoon, and they were sold out of a lot of things, including BMOs. We got one of their other specialities, focaccia, and took a nibble as we passed the old cemetery where the great Danish philosopher Kierkegaard is buried.
Our BMO crawl ended at Andersen & Maillard. After so many BMO tastings, I thought I couldn’t eat any more. But the first bite of this BMO was like my very first one. A revelation. A classic sesame bun with the perfect, salted whipped butter and intoxicating Gammel Knas cheese with its little bits of crystals. (Danes call it cheese candy). The manager mentioned that when there was a shortage of Gammel Knas a while back, Danes went “a little nuts.”
Left: Andersen & Maillard. Right: Rondo Bakery. Images courtesy of My Beautiful Copenhagen.
Finally we called it quits. You’d think the last thing I’d want to do is try another BMO, but the next morning, I found myself up early and heading to Juno the Bakery, a social media darling, known for long lines and excellent cardamom buns. But it was a cold and grey morning, so there were only a few people between me and my first BMO of the day, and yes, again, it was absolutely delicious.
I thought of the avocado toast trend and how quickly it went global. There would be nothing easier than exporting this trend. Bread, butter, cheese. But I began to understand that BMOs are really of their place. The sandwich doesn’t just taste of bread, cheese and butter, but also of simplicity, authenticity, the sea, and a particular Danish love of the perfection of functionality.
BMO sandwich and Cardamom bun, images courtesy of Juno The Bakery.
