I Learned to Eat Like the Happiest People in the World

Happy people eat together, I learned in Denmark

When I arrived in Denmark, ranked the second happiest country in the world, I was lost, tense, neurotic, and hard as a rock. A normal state of mind for a New Yorker, but for a Danish person — almost unheard of. Even in the Danish capital, Copenhagen, people seemed calmer, quieter, and at peace with each other and their surroundings. In the land of such contentment, I was almost embarrassed by how anxious and restless I was.

Sure, I was coming from a complicated city in a complicated country but now I was ready to relax, even if it meant faking it at first. In the hopes of feeling better, I decided to do as the Danes did. Fake it till you make it, they say.

I wrote about “borrowing” the habits of Danish people in this well-received piece. Since then, I realized that there was more to their culinary happiness than homemade dinners.

It all started when I joined a local co-working space (mostly a gathering of small tech companies). What was mean to be just a desk to work at ended up being an anthropological experiment which taught me, among other things, how much a simple act of eating together can contribute to a person’s, and a nation’s, well-being.

From the streets of New York to a Danish table

Coming from New York, I was used to quick lunches, often on the go. Taking 15 whole minutes to eat, let alone dine with silverware and other people (unless it’s a business lunch), seemed like a complete waste of time. I didn’t need other people. I had The City.

Now in Denmark, it seemed that lives revolved around community and dining tables. To this day, when I think of Denmark, I think of a group of people eating and drinking too much, in candlelight, at a large wooden table. If that doesn’t look like happiness, then I don’t know what does.

But at first, I was surprised to find out that the majority of members at my coworking space ate their lunches in a dedicated kitchen at noon every day. At large wooden tables, of course. Food was delivered daily from a catering company. And, while costly (around fifteen dollars per meal), it was homemade, delicious, and Danish-themed.

These awkward Danes actually took time to eat proper food in the afternoon, at a proper table while socializing with others. Every day. This was certainly the famous Scandinavian work-life balance at work.

“Wow,” I thought on my first day, “This is crazy.” And ran out to eat my quick lunch outside.

Communal eating = communal happiness?

I was terrified to join these gatherings but decided to give it a try, hoping some of the relaxed vibes would rub off on me. So I signed up for lunch and arrived in the kitchen when instructed. At noon sharp, the candles were burning and bowls of hot food steaming. There was no music, just the quiet hum of conversations in both Danish and English (Danes speak excellent English). No one talked loudly, no one demanded attention. People weren’t there to make a fuss but to enjoy their food and good company.

I picked up a plate from the fully-stocked kitchen and looked at the spread of Danish food, paralyzed. I’m not the classiest eater at best times and Danes around me were all-so specific about how their dishes were being served and eaten. I ended up picking the simplest things — potatoes, salad, pre-sliced pieces of pork. It was hard to go wrong, I thought.

Yet I still did (turned out to eat potatoes and pork in Denmark, one must slather them with Danish brown sauce first). Four Danes sitting at the table with me were sweet enough to switch to English, even if to point out my faux-pas. Next thing you know I was telling strangers my life story and learning about the latest vacation of a complete stranger.

I ended up learning a lot about Denmark from these lunches, surprised at how awkward but easy it was to talk to Danes. They didn’t rush to their desks. They didn’t boast. They weren’t loud. And they almost never talked about work. The unexpected pleasure of talking to people without an agenda or rush, left me feeling higher than any cup of Starbucks.

Drinking at work, without judgements

But it didn’t end there. On top of community lunches, there were community breakfasts with (free) fresh pastries on Fridays, followed by Friday (free) after-work drinks. Since Fridays get no respect in work-life balance obsessed Denmark, “after work” meant 3 PM. Some members started having beers at their desks right after lunch: no judgments were passed and no “rules” were broken.

After all, nothing brings Danes closer together or makes them happier than lots of beers shared with friends or colleagues (after a good meal). So those who didn’t rush home to their families stayed for drinks-and-chats on comfy couches. Candles were lit. Music played gently. Sometimes, a girlfriend or a friend stopped by. No one stuck around for too long though, as everyone seemed to have a family or another social gathering to go to, be it at a board games cafe or simply binge-beer-drinking by the river. Danes surely know how to spend a Friday night.

Whether it’s eating or drinking, Danish people find great pleasure in communal experiences. And after participating in those cozy candle-lit gatherings, I can see that there’s certainly an element of happiness in that.

Eating together, without distractions, is just one step towards a happier existence but it’s a big one. For me, what started out as a painful social experience, ended up creating some of the warmest memories of my life.

Upon my return to the U.S., I tried not one but three different WeWork locations and was disappointed every time. No matter how cool their spaces were, they didn’t come close to reproducing the warmth and coziness of my unglamorous little office in Copenhagen.