Haj from Kobenhavn! I’ve been in this lovely city for a little over a week now, and I am proud to say that I’ve only gotten lost twice and locked in a bathroom once. I’d call that quite a success and a great use of the data plan that I requested from my parents before leaving.

But in all honesty, my truest success has been my ability to eat at just about every bakery between my building and school. If you thought that walking from Darnall to O’Donovan Hall was bad, you can’t understand just how much my daily trek for something sweet to start and end my day requires.

Throughout all of my bakery and cafe visits thus far, I have yet to eat a cheese or berry Danish. Since I only have four short months here, I want to immerse myself in the country’s rich culture of pastries and coffees — the authentic ones. I thought I had a great start at the cafe down the street, Joe & the Juice, only to later find out that it’s the Danish equivalent of Starbucks. However, that does not discount its Ginger Latte. It sounds a little weird, and the taste is surprising at first, but it’s incredibly delicious. The spice from the ginger cuts some of the creaminess from the milk, simultaneously highlighting the strength and boldness of the espresso.

I hope someone from The Corp is reading this so I can order one in January 2015 when I return. And if it needs a taste tester, I will volunteer as tribute.

For take two, I consulted my new friend Christina, whose mom is from Denmark. I asked her what I had to eat before leaving Copenhagen. She suggested frosnapper: a pastry typically eaten for breakfast that is covered with poppy seeds, filled with remonce and twisted to perfection.

Although my mouth already started watering once she described it, I waited until the next morning when we stopped for one on our way to class. It might not have been love at first sight (it’s hard to compete with sugar-glaze-covered cinnamon buns), but it definitely was lust at first bite. The texture combinations of the fluffy dough, sticky baked-in butter, sugar remonce and crunchy poppy seeds intensified the sweet taste. The little bit of sugar helped to jump-start my day, without the expected delayed sugar rush.

On my second day of Danish language and culture class, my professor Tina surprised us with flodebolle. I had accidentally set my alarm for p.m. instead of a.m., so I rushed to make it for the second half of my first class, which resulted in skipping breakfast. For my empty stomach, these chocolate-covered marshmallow sweets were definitely a welcome sight.

The best way for me to describe these small treats are as the original Mallomars. With a marzipan base topped with fluffy marshmallow and then covered with chocolate and sprinkled with coconut, these taste galaxies better — even if they also came in store-bought packaging. It could’ve been my hunger overtaking my senses, but I’m already counting down the days until the Christmas season, when all of the local bakeries will have fresh versions of these in their pastry cases.

As for right now, I just sat down to a homemade croissant from the Democratic Coffee Bar located inside of the Copenhagen Public Library to get me through the rest of my homework assignments (and writing this column on deadline).

Here’s a fairly exact play-by-play as I eat my first croissant in Copenhagen, from a place that I’ve been waiting to try for months:
Walks into cafe: “Wow, these croissants are so pretty, but I just came in for coffee.”
Walks up to the counter: “Hi, can I have a cup of black coffee?”
Sits back down to write column: “I don’t need a croissant, I am stronger than this.”
Turns around to find baker taking out fresh ones: “Who am I kidding?”

Christina Wing is a junior in the McDonough School of Business. Damsel in Denmark appears every other Friday in the guide.