Dear Friend:

A Postcard from Scandinavia

I just got back from a trip to Scandinavia. Though I was in Denmark last year, I really wasn’t sure what to expect in Finland and Sweden. This was not like a trip to Paris where you have a long list of restaurants that you must try. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the food was so, so good! It was unpretentious – no themed restaurants, no hype – just good, fresh food. There are two Michelin starred restaurants in Helsinki, but we just didn’t feel like bothering with reservations. Instead, we ate at the little restaurants, markets, street vendors and bakeries. Eating locally-grown foods is a way of life in Scandinavia.

One of my most vivid memories is of a farmer’s market in Helsinki. Farmers come by boat and sell their produce right in the harbor. Fresh chanterelles, raspberries, strawberries, gooseberries, currants, potatoes, dill, cauliflower, carrots and kohlrabi. It smelled so good! One of my favorite finds was cloudberries. The locally-grown fruit is like a soft, yellow cloud or delicate yellow raspberry. I couldn’t resist them and brought home some cloudberry preserves.

When you travel, it is always fun to try the cuisine at local restaurants. I had smoked fish everywhere -- pickled herring, fried herring, smoked herring, gravlax, smoked salmon, arctic char and hot smoked salmon. I ate tiny shrimp on black bread with sliced egg as well as smoked shrimp in the shell with roe. I tried reindeer fillet with lingonberries. And on menus, I saw reindeer tartare, carpaccio, salami and jerky. I tried filmjölk, a fermented milk product similar to cultured buttermilk, yogurt or kefir in consistency, but with a slightly different taste. The hearty, dense bread with fresh butter was unforgettable. Their rye has a lot more depth than the rye we use. It made the Smørrebrød, flat open-faced sandwiches, so tasty!

Maybe one reason I felt so at home in Scandinavia was because of their affinity for redheads.   Astrid Lindgren, author of Pippi Longstocking hailed from Sweden; and Finns are just wild about a little red-headed Moomin character called, Pikku Myy (pronounced “peeku moo”) .  I felt more connected to Pippi and Pikku Myy than to the famous American redhead, Raggedy Ann.

Maybe it wasn’t the proliferation of red-heads but the breads that caught my fancy. In Helsinki, I had breakfast every morning at Fazer, a local bakery known for its amazing breads and chocolates. There were so many wonderful breads that I tried a new one every morning for breakfast.  

A girl can’t live by bread alone, shopping is important too. At the Marimekko store in Finland, I loved the colorful fabrics and designs on the bags, clothes, china, homegoods and furniture. And in Sweden, I just had to go to Ikea. Ikea in Sweden is a little different than the Ikea here – the stores that serve food have real Swedish food, they sell luggage, books and fabrics you don’t see in our local Ikea. I really wanted a coffee table that I know they don’t have in the local Ikea, but it wouldn’t fit into my suitcase. I think everyone in Sweden shops at Ikea. In fact, the whole country looks like Ikea.

In Sweden, we visited an island called Öland to visit friends, Tomas and Birgitta. They live in a rehabbed farm house on a real farm. Tomas isn’t a farmer, he works for the Swedish Red Cross, but he and Birgitta have an amazing garden that provided our lunch. We dug up potatoes and picked lettuce. They also grow dill, asparagus and lots more. Everything was simple – but wonderful and (are you seeing a trend here?) - fresh. For another meal, we picked up smoked mackerel and herring and ate outside in their garden.

I wasn’t surprised to see that everyone rides bikes. It is part of the healthy lifestyle. I wasn’t surprised that the cheeses were as tasty as everything else. But, I definitely was surprised to happen upon a herd of camels in Sweden. Tomas said his “crazy” neighbor started with two. And, you know what happens. Check this out – not exactly your standard Swedish tourist photo.

While traveling by camel seemed romantic, we opted for a train ride to Lomma where we stayed with Brita and Bert Kinning, Tomas’ parents. Hard to say which I enjoyed more, Brita’s artwork or her carrot, dill & crayfish soup. Or maybe her Swedish meatballs. Or perhaps it was when Bert toasted our arrival with Aquavit.

Alison