Cafe Starkodder

Cafe Starkodder is a cozy cafe located in Christianshavn close to canals.

Café Starkodder is in many ways a subtle acquaintance - here comes chrisitianhavnerne in great style and Café Starkodder describes their guests such:

"... daily houses tenacious sea dogs, slobbering suck, Greenland mourners and - not least - students from Tøjhusmuseet and Orlogsmuseet."

Are you in Christianshavn, then you should not miss out on a visit to Café Starkodder - you will certainly not disappointed, but a good experience richer.

Cafe Starkodder keeps occasionally interesting events. Take a look at their Facebook profile (press: "See their site") for further information.

Starkodder

Giggly beat Starkodder wrinkling of the nose,
when he saw Ingils voluptuous table.
"Kjeltringer, what is this creature?"
(Thus obeyed his threatening words)
"Is it live on Nordic Maneer?
Ei giants, but kjælne Sydboer I see. "

"Tribes You down from the mighty Froder,
You who slay ukongelig soul?
You makes a good day! Your faithless mother
let himself be shown violate the wages of a slave.
While swords rust, Fry Venders go,
an honest rancid ham Man scarcely one may receive. "

"With Leires Konning whosoever will not project
in birds entrails, bli'er here not full.
Heroes from antiquity artless Days
find here scarcely an edible Ret.
The Soft in seats they Feige war,
Kong Ingild! tiltaffels they would rather go with you. "

Then taled 'Visins haardknoklede Court,
Kings and oppressors and Niddingers terror;
it was from his youth become his court,
to be bitter, rude and cheeky.
The decking courtier Benauelse got,
of anguish, his appetite entirely perished.

Hoffspillemanden took the harp in the hands,
hoping thereby to make his Harm;
but him Starkodder a roast leg sends
in the middle of his forehead with stupendous Arm.
A Sad End the merriment was,
who wandered howling for song and music.

Queen herself will cup test
about ei a smile was to lure him,
this harsh and ferocious lion
should ei could by wine be done tam;
She hands him the cup, he flings it across,
the Grobjan! and spill every drop of it.

Though he seemed to be hardened,
against all pleasure outside of France,
I dare venture my poetic glory
If anyone of you bet with me,
that punch had made him as gentle as a cat,
when it is in its paw one Muus grabs.

The sight of the club's confidential bun,
The smell and steam that rises thereof,
it was all meer than he could bear,
if he succeeded in breaking his grave;
but nipped 'he just for the smoking Glass,
he asked us at first Bacants about a place.

Edvard Storm (1826)