Copenhagen is one of the great food cities in the world. Not only is it the capital of New Nordic cuisine and the home of restaurants regularly voted the best in the world, it also has fantastic Italian, French, or Latin American cuisine on offer – and one widely praised sushi restaurant.
Sushi Anaba has been recommended to me ever since I moved to Copenhagen 4 years ago. Many called it the best sushi in the Nordics – or even outside of Japan. In 2025 it finally received its first Michelin star.
My recent trip to Japan taught me so much about the wonderful world of Japanese cuisine, and the evenings spent at top sushi counters redefined the way I look at sushi. I have been longing ever since for some perfect bites of raw seafood. So I thought it is about time I pay Sushi Anaba a visit. The expectation is nothing less than a night that makes me feel like I am back in Tokyo at one of the best sushi counters of the world.
The start to the evening is not yet Tokyo-esque. Instead of the 6th floor of a skyrise in the buzzing Ginza district, it is a small stone house (historically a customs office), at the calm waterfront of Copenhagen’s former harbour, that houses Sushi Anaba. One thing, however, is radiating Japanese humbleness: Nothing outside the house indicates that a great restaurant awaits behind its door. Only a candle burning in the wind indicates that there is someone actually in the building.
The kind Danish waiter that welcomes us inside wears traditional Japanese attire, as do all employees in the restaurant. He guides us to the dining area: a room with a long wooden counter that seats 15 guests at a time.
The athmosphere in the room is of calm excitement. This feels very Japan already, I cannot wait for it to begin.

There is only one menu available (1,900 DKK, ca. 255 €) and it has to be pre-purchased for all guests in advance. With this price, Sushi Anaba confidently positions itself above Copenhagen’s other 1-Michelin-star restaurants. This is a statement for what can be expected, mainly in terms of quality of seafood. The only choice on the day is that of beverages. Out of the selective wine menu with focus on French crus, I opt for a bottle of white Burgundy today (as, to be fair, most days). True connaisseurs would probably say that sake pairs better with sushi – and the restaurant has a wide selection of them on offer – but despite no lack of tries I have not (yet) come to like the taste of rice wine. Therefore, better to be safe than sorry.
The food service starts as soon as we are seated (we were the last of the 15 guests to arrive). As there are two seatings each evening, things have to proceed with a certain pace. I usually like to eat slowly and extend my time at a good restaurant, so I am not a fan of multiple seatings per night. However, the rythm at Sushi Anaba never feels rushed and always natural.

The menu starts – as is usual for an Edomae style omakase – with a series of otsumami (small starters). First, thinly sliced raw Norwegian Redfish is wrapped around some fresh seaweed and served with egg yolk. The fish is fresh and mild – a nice, subtle start. (6.5/10)

Next, a poached oyster arrives, lying on a caramelised pearl onyon and a small sea of an intense dashi that adds the first truly Japanese flavours to the night’s menu. A very harmonious dish combining sea flavours with sweetness and umami. (7/10)

While behind the counter a sushi master is grating the fresh wasabi for tonight’s nigiri, the attentive and kind but rather reserved service team presents the next course: lightly poached lobster with eggplant and miso. The dish is asthetically not very pleasing, and the first bite into the lobster presents a disappointment: the crusstacian is more chewy and less flavourful than I would expect. Unfortunately, it is easily overpowered by the very strong flavour of the miso paste which the eggplants are soaked in and which tastes more like peanut butter than actual red miso. What’s more, all ingredients are served a bit too cold for my liking. In sum: texture, temperature, and taste of this dish seem surprisingly off. (5/10)

There’s not much time to dwell on this, however, as now the main part of the evening begins: the sushi. Two sushi masters have taken their passes behind the long wooden counter, each serving 7 and 8 guests, respectively. Owner and head chef Mads Battefeld is one of them, while we are being served by a Japanese colleague of his, who, as he tells us during the night, was trained in Japan and moved to Copenhagen 7 years ago, specifically to work for Battefeld.
The sushi masters’ art of preparing and serving nigiri fascinates me every time I see it up close. In flowing motions, perfected over decades-long training, the master collects a handful of rice, carefully shapes it, adds a pinch of wasabi and tenderly places the thinly cut fish on top of it. In this case it is whiting, and as a finishing touch, the master adds a brush of soy sauce to it before placing it in front of me directly on the wooden counter – next to some pickled ginger that remains there throughout the sushi courses, available as a palate cleanser. Every second counts now, as every knowledgeable Japanese will tell you: sushi is to be eaten as fresh as possible. Hence, the sushi master places each nigiri in front of a guest immediately after forming it, one by one. I barely dare to take a quick picture of the piece, then I put it in my mouth: by hand, and in one bite. The only right way to eat a nigiri.

The quality of the fish is amazing: tender, fresh, and mild. But what I am really looking out for is the rice: how is it seasoned (in other words: which kind of vinegar is the sushi master using), how firm is it, how warm? The rice is the real signature of a sushi master and most spend years perfecting their recipe. Some swear to use red vinegar, others exclusively rice vinegar, others again use specifically prepared rice for each different fish. At Anaba, the rice has a brownish color, and I am told this is due to a sake-based vinegar. The rice’s taste is actually very subtle and it has a perfect sweet-acidic balance. Interestingly, the rice is on the warmer side, slightly above body temperature, which adds an exciting temperature play in combination with the distintly cold fish. Whiting, rice, wasabi, and soy sauce blend together to a wonderfully proportioned and balanced bite. I have to close my eyes for a moment: I am immediately transported to Japan. This is exactly what I came for!

More please! Turbot arrives next, and is again a wonderfully tender and mild bite. With a stronger taste of soy sauce than the first one, but still very well balanced.

Squid follows. A fish that I have never had before as a (proper) sushi. Instead of wasabi and soy sauce, this nigiri is finished with a few drops of lime, which makes it a very refreshing bite. The squid’s surface has been cut several times which seems to help its texture: it is the most tender piece of squid I have ever tasted.

The scallop nigiri again shows brilliant tenderness. The proportions are a bit different than with the previous pieces, the scallop slice is thicker. However, this works perfectly. By this time I am not surprised: the sushi masters clearly seem to know what they are doing here at Anaba.

The next piece is not a nigiri, but a gunkan, that means a hand-formed ball of rice that is surrounded by a piece of nori seaweed. The topping is rasor clams. Another perfectly balanced bite with some more umami flavours thanks to the seaweed.

Three shrimp form the next nigiri. The texture of the shellfish is extremely creamy and soft. This is all on a very high level!

The shrimp heads are then also served. Deep fried, they make for a fun crispy snack.

In the meantime the other staff has been preparing some plates in the background. I am surprised: Is the nigiri flight already over? I try not to let my disappointment show, as I was definitely craving some more beautiful sushi pieces. Still, I would never say no to what is placed in front of me now: rice, tuna tartare, oscetra caviar, quail egg, and white Alba truffle. A dish that I am pretty sure you would not find at a Tokyo sushi restaurant. With its tradidionally luxurious ingredients it seems more tuned to a sophisticated European palate – or maybe more specifically to the local Michalin reviewers. It is of course absolutely delicious, blending the saltiness of the caviar with creamy fatty tuna and the egg yolk. The truffle adds an extra flavour element to it. It just feels slightly out of sequence. (7.5/10)

The next plate is purely Japan-inspired again: fried eel is plated next to pickled cucumbers. An intensely fishy dish, but very good. (7/10)

Monkfish with ponzu sauce and daikon is then Japanese heaven again! A perfectly cooked fish, complemented by the wonderful salty-sweet-pungent element of the sauce and the raddish. This is pretty amazing. (8.5/10)
In the background Mads Battefeld has – to my immense pleasure – taken out his long fish knife again and started cutting what clearly looks like the trio of tuna often served in sushi restaurants: akami, chutoro, and otoro. I am getting very excited.

But first, the nigiri flight picks up again with a very Danish fish: smoked herring. Usually not at all my favourite when served on local smørrebrød, it is prepared here in stupendous quality and much milder and softer than is usual in Denmark.

The next nigiri, Norwegian king crab, is then an absolute highlight: So tasty, so smooth. A dream!

We are now shown the tuna selection for the night. Impressive!

The tuna serving starts with chutoro, the middle section of the belly. It is as delicious as I was hoping for: so creamy, buttery, and tender that it melts in your mouth immediately. This is nearly as good as what I had in Tokyo’s high-end sushi places.

Otoro, the fattest and richest part of the lower tuna belly, is also its most pricy and usually the highlight of a nigiri sequence. However, today I find the bite a bit chewier than the chutoro and not as perfectly harmoneous texture-wise.

The final nigiri to arrive is the lean part of the tuna, akami. In my experience usually served first of the tuna trio, here it makes for a light, delicious, and delightful last bite. A great ending to an impressive sushi sequence! What Battefeld and team are serving here, mostly sourced from local and regional seafood, is nothing less of astonishing. The nigiri are all of outstanding quality, and if our time at the counter was not very limited, I would easily order all of them again. (Nigiri flight overall: 8.5/10).

The savory part of the meal ends with a few sips of miso soup. An intense, umami-rich soup. Delicious! (7/10)

As a sweet bite, the traditional tamago (egg omlet) is served. It is very firm in texture and the flavours of langoustine and honey, which are mixed into it, do not really come together perfectly. A steep drop after the perfect nigiri. (6/10)

The final dessert is a monaka, thin rice waffles, filled in this case with pumpkin puree and pickled chanterelles. Another proof that traditional Japanese desserts don’t really resonate with me. I would not have minded if for the sweet part, we could have pivoted the menu to local pastries. (6.5/10)
As soon as the last bite is in our mouth, the staff friendly asks us to move into an adjacent room as the main dining area needs to get ready for the next seating. The “lounge” proves to be a small room with stylish Danish wooden interiour, but not really big enough to house all of the guests for another drink. We finish our last glass of wine and leave the small Japanese bubble we entered 3 hours previously. The nigiri of outstanding quality were the clear highlight of an overall very good and very authentic Japanese meal.
There is enough time on the walk home in the Danish winter night to reminisce all the amazing bites we just enjoyed – and to start thinking about when to book the next trip to Japan. If time does not allow for that, we now know that we have a gateway to Tokyo very close to home.
Rating
📍 Sushi Anaba, Copenhagen (DK)
🌐 Website | Instagram
🧑🏼🍳 Mads
🗓️ 18 December 2025
⭐ Michelin Guide (Nordics 2025): ⭐
Rating
Food: 8/10
Service & Athmosphere: 8/10
Overall: 8/10