Surfers nicknamed it in the 90s, but this rugged coastline is becoming a hotspot for contemporary art lovers too

The North Sea wind is buffeting my body and face, shaking me awake after a six-hour journey from Copenhagen on buses and trains to this rugged stretch of the Danish coast. From my high vantage point on the grassy dunes, overlooking what feels like an endless sea, there is hardly another soul to be seen, save for the specks of a few surfers who are trying their luck on the crashing waves.

Surfers, windsurfers and paddleboarders flock to this stretch of north-west Jutland, which is playfully known as “Cold Hawaii”. The phrase was coined in the 1990s by the international surfing community, and popularised by world champion windsurfer Josh Stone, to describe this laid-back shoreline and its 31 official surf spots running for around 30 miles (50km) from a little north of the industrial harbour of Hanstholm down to the sandy beaches of Agger.

Insider knowledge of the Danish capital’s food scene: four chefs (and our head of food) share their favourite spots

• Where Copenhagen leads, the food world still follows

It has to be Københavns Bageri; they upgrade beloved Danish classics using the best ingredients. The cardamom buns are second to none, but the “potato cake” – that’s a choux bun filled with vanilla custard and topped with a cocoa-dusted marzipan disc to resemble a potato – might be my favourite. MF

For bread, go to Tír Bakery in the morning and stand in line – they sell out every day, but their bread is the best. For croissants, go to Bageriet B and sit outside and enjoy a good filter coffee. TH

Two decades after chefs rewrote the rules at Noma, Copenhagen’s food scene still flies the flag for seasonality and innovation – progressive, sustainable and uniquely Danish

I didn’t realise I was a fussy eater until I left Denmark. During 12 years of living Danishly, with regular trips to the capital, I just … liked most things. Danes specialise in high-quality, organic produce, eaten as close to its natural state as possible. Denmark has very specific, diverse climatic conditions, making seasonal eating a science. Forget root vegetables in autumn and strawberries in summer – we’re talking micro seasons, week to week, with cabbage, kale, apples, potatoes, berries and rye a speciality. None are around for long, but when they are, they’re fabulous – and the seasonal Nordic diet has been proven to be as healthy as the renowned Mediterranean diet and better for the planet. No wonder Copenhageners look so smug.

But the city’s food scene hasn’t always been so good. Many who grew up in the 1970s and 1980s report being reared on canned food and frozen vegetables, with pork and potatoes, smørrebrød (open sandwiches) or junk food making up much of the offerings. (You’re never far from a pølservogn, or “hot dog wagon”, in Copenhagen – doling out bright red wieners baked in their own bready prophylactic.)

The island of Samsø offers tranquil walks, biking, birding, distillery and pottery tours, and locally sourced fare – including citrusy ants

‘We have lammerullepøllse – lamb rolled sausage – today,” says Daniel Hesseldal-Haines, chef at Det Lille Sommerhotel on the Danish island of Samsø. “It tastes better than the translation sounds. And,” he gestures towards a woman sitting by the window, “the lamb is from Camilla’s farm.”

Camilla gives us a friendly wave, and my eyes fix upon her sweater, featuring row upon row of colourful motifs. Think Fair Isle but less orderly: each stripe holds a different design. “Oh, I made this,” she says. “It’s hønsestrik – chicken knitting. You can use it to tell your story – so this one is about hiking,” she adds, pointing to each section: “These are my footprints, this is my tent, my coffee flask …”

In a city packed with bakeries, how do you find the best? I risked tooth decay to track down the quintessential blend of crisp pastry, an oozy centre and sugary cinnamon

Open sandwiches (smørrebrød), meatballs (frikadeller), crispy pork belly (stegt flæsk) … There are many must-eat dishes for food lovers visiting Denmark, though perhaps nothing springs to mind as readily as the Danish pastry. But how are you supposed to choose from the countless bakeries on offer? And once you have decided which to visit, which pastry to eat? As a long-term resident of Copenhagen and pastry obsessive, I took on the Guardian’s challenge to find the best Danish pastry in town.

Let’s get started with the shocking fact that Danish pastries are not actually Danish. In Denmark they’re called wienerbrød (Viennese bread) and made using a laminated dough technique that originated in Vienna. There’s also no such thing as a “Danish” in Denmark – there are so many different types of pastry that the word loses meaning. What we know as a Danish is a spandauer – a round pastry with a folded border and a circle of yellowy custard in the middle. Then there’s the tebirkes, a folded pastry often with a baked marzipan-style centre and poppy seeds on the top; a frøsnapper, a twist of pastry dusted with poppy seeds; and a snegl, which translates as “snail” but is known as a cinnamon swirl in English.