It’s a delightfully warm September day in the northern suburbs of Copenhagen, and I’m sat at a picnic table in the busy Lyngby Stadium fanzone. In front of me lies a paper tray, with the outline of a football pitch on the base barely visible below an array of edible goods treasured by generations of Danish match-goers. Star of the show, of course, is the prized Lyngby pølse, a reddish, slightly charred and wrinkled sausage that is frequently considered the gold standard of its kind among Denmark’s football clubs, with two grilled buns of bread and a multi-coloured mix of sauces providing noble accompaniment. Couple this further with a plastic cup of beer and you have the full ‘stadionplatte’, a ubiquitous sight on stadium kiosk menus throughout Zealand, Funen and Jutland.

With the day’s Lyngby Boldklub v Hvidovre IF encounter being my third match in Denmark in as many days, the allure of the stadionplatte was not unknown to me. Frankly, after succumbing to it at Hobro IK and AC Horsens, two Jutland clubs, I'd reached the point where I was beginning to look a little longingly at possible alternative food options with a touch more in the way of greenery. However, after purchasing a ‘Blue Ticket’ to see the Kongeblå, a bundle which entitled me to a sausage and a beer at the stadium, my choice was already locked in. On reaching the kiosk and having my QR code scanned, I am ushered over to the grill to retrieve my pølse and brød, both gently charring under a trained, watchful eye. I then turn to the all-important condiment table to finish my meal with pulses of ketchup, mustard and remoulade (a bright, salad cream-toned affair popular in Denmark) and a sprinkling of crispy onions. The sausage has a dense, meaty interior encased in a crackly skin which initially resists but then gives way in a satisfying explosion in the mouth. Rather than employ the bread to hold the sausage, I notice that fans around me use a napkin and dip the sausage directly into the different sauces, coming back to the bread a little later.

This experience is repeated at grounds across the country, albeit with minor variations (some condiments, such as the onions, are absent elsewhere). Also popular is the ‘fransk (French) hotdog’, a smaller sausage which is stuffed into a hollowed baguette and paired with its own special mayonnaise. At OB Odense, fans can even tuck into pølsemix, sliced sausage on chips ready to be laden with all the usual sauces. It goes without saying that lovers of pork will certainly manage to get their fix on a matchday in Denmark. That said, while the cherished pølse may well occupy pride of place on stadia kiosk menus, several of the clubs I visited offered plenty of tempting alternatives. When I visited, OB’s vibrant fanzone gave fans the option of sampling fish and chips, kebabs and burgers (with even a glass of sparkling wine waiting to wash it all down), while Lyngby, the king of pølse, also had a pancake chef on hand for a sweet treat. The latter club’s refreshment choices clearly had a younger audience in mind: for a short time after the fanzone gates opened, kids could get their hands on a free iced slushie. As clubs seek to grow attendances in Denmark, adopting a diversified food service may well become an important component in their strategy.

For the time being, however, it doesn’t look as if the sausage is about to be knocked off its perch as a fan favourite. After finishing the Lyngby version, I decide to take a look inside the stadium fan shop. In front of me stands a dummy proudly sporting a cream-coloured T-shirt, the year of the club’s founding displayed across the chest. Turn the top around, though, and you are confronted with a giant crest containing an illustration of the club’s stadium. Lying on the pitch, of course, is an enormous tray of sausage, bread and all the condiments, while around the crest, one finds a motto many Danish football fans would get behind: ‘Sammen for Passion og Pølser’ (Together for Passion and Sausages).