Results tagged “stockholm” from eat drink one woman

Forgive my absence.

Coming back to New York from Stockholm is a little like drinking the finest champagne while sticking your leg in a meat grinder. 

It's been glorious -- a perfect picnic with friends at Governor's Island, a tête-à-tête promenade up the High Line, tacos, buying running shoes at 8:30pm because I needed them and because I can, a grand BLT party with 25 pounds of bacon, kick ass tomatoes and four kinds of homemade mayo at Winnie's. 

But the onslaught to the senses is also overwhelming after quiet, clean Stockholm.  The noise, the traffic, the unexpected street tar that ruined my sneaks (hence the need to buy a new pair), the way you can regret opening your mouth to stick a piece of chewing gum in if you're walking down the wrong block.

To go from the land of lagom -- where life is engineered to be in the middle, not too high, not too low -- to New York, the land of Ultimate XXXXtremes! is kicking me in my callous-free gonads.  I know I've got to get with the program or New York will kick me out.  And I'm sure I'll get there.  I just need a little adjustment period.

In the meantime, I just want to say: FUUUUUUUUCK!!!  MY FOOOOOOOT!

Of all the things I will miss about Sweden when I leave, perhaps at the top of the list will be my solitary weekend bicycle excursions.  There are lots of beautiful places around Stockholm that are very accessible via safe, cordoned off bike lanes.  You could use City Bikes for some of these trips, but then you have to watch the time and make sure you don't keep your bike out for more than three hours, which may mean stopping to switch bikes at the furthest station.

Stockholm is not hilly like San Francisco, but it's not completely flat like Copenhagen, either.  There are a few bridges that make you earn your bullar.  But the best part about these rides is that you can feel very virtuous about the caloric treat you pack with you for the ride.

Most of these rides are 20 minutes to an hour from the city center, depending on how fast you ride.  Keep in mind that these are really amateur rides, less for the person who owns spandex shorts and more for the person who likes to ride around with their mouth open.

What you'll need: 

Get a cykelkarta, or bike map, which you can pick up at any bike shop around town. You can probably also get one from the Tourist Center across the street from NK at Hamngatan 27.

Lights are helpful at night.  While you won't need them much around the summer solstice, you will need them as it gets darker out.  I also always wear a helmet.  I don't care if it doesn't look good.  I don't want my Mae to have to put my melon back together.

Provisions: If you want to buy a sandwich for the road (never a bad idea), my absolute favorite place to pick up a bicycle bag lunch is Thelins Konditori.  There are a couple of Thelins around town, but the one I go to is on Kungsholmen at S:t Eriksgatan 43.  I always get the vegetarian sandwich, which has fresh cream cheese, shredded carrots, peppers and lettuce on fruit and nut bread, which features huge hunks of dried apricot and walnuts.  It's the best bicycling sandwich ever.  Add a vanilla cream cardamom bun or a chocolate dipped meringue for a little extra sugar boost. 

1. Drottningholms Slott
Ride time: 45 - 75 min.


How to get there:
From the north: Take S:t Eriksgatan into Kungsholmen, make a right on Drottningholmsvägen and take it all the way west, cross a bridge, pass Alvik and Stora Mossen.  Make a left at the roundabout at Brommaplan, and keep following Drottningholmsvägen until you get to Nockebybron, another bridge.  Take it across two bodies of water into Ekerö.

From the south: Take Västerbron north into Kungsholmen, make a left on Drottningholmsvägen, then follow the rest of the directions above.

Drottningholm is the actual residence of the Swedish royal family.  You could go inside and check out the part that's open to the public, but then you have to pay an entrance fee.  There's some kind of Chinese pavilion here that you could also pay to gawk at. But the opulent (well, as opulent as Sweden gets) grounds offer plenty to look at.  It's modeled after French palaces from the 1600s or something -- I don't know, you can read about it on their website.  I'm no architecture nerd.



Swans grace the water lily ponds.  They dip their long necks into the water to bob for fish, their tails jiggling upright like little floating island meringues.

This is a lovely spot to picnic when the weather holds.  Your non-cycling friends can take the ferry from Stadshuskajen at Stockholm City Hall, which is probably just as enjoyable as taking the bicycle.

Drottningholms Slott
Ekerö

2. Ulriksdals Slott
Ride time: 30-45 min.

How to get there:
Take Hagastråket north, all along the west side of Hagaparken.  Ride until you reach the top of the Brunnsviken body of water, then turn right along the water along Bergshamnavägen. Keep your eyes out for the signs to Ulriksdals Slott.  There is one little tunnel that you turn left into to reach the Ulriksdals complex.  Ride along the narrow path, make a left and go up a hill until you reach the main entrance for Ulriksdals.

Yes, another castle!  Plenty of little gravel paths and wood bridges to ride over.  But it's a little off the beaten path, so if you go in July, there is actually a chance that no one else will be around.  There's also a dreamy little set of hedge-enclosed gardens that would be perfect to sit and make out in if  you were a Swedish princess sneaking around with the stable boy (or your personal trainer).
 


But this one has something better -- a pick-your-own stuff garden.  Rows of various potatoes, green beans and onions, as well as artichokes, giant cardoons, pretty flowers and tons of other stuff which you can cut with a little knife to put into the baskets they provide.  Chic!





If you're a city girl like me, you'll get a kick out of picking your own potatoes.  It's magic!  You pull up these big leafy plants and there are freaking POTATOES in the dirt.  Lots of 'em.  In all sizes.  They're as alien as giant maggots but they're crazy delicious. 





The cafe has a classic Swedish fika spread -- pies, cakes, meringues and more, with plenty of hot coffee to help you pep up for the ride back.

 

Ulriksdals Slott
Solna

3. Skogskyrkogården
30 - 60 min., depending on where you start

How to get there:
Take Götgatan through Södermalm.  Cross the bridge and keep going straight, past Globen.  Go under the freeway and to the left to get to Skogskyrkogården.

Skogskyrkogården is on the UNESCO World Heritage list.  It's a breathtakingly beautiful and huge cemetery that doesn't feel at all like a cemetery.  When you bike in, all you see is a huge cross at the end of a long slope of grass.

The place was designed with the mourning experience in mind.  A long walk (or drive) takes you up to the chapel entrance, so you can prepare yourself mentally and emotionally for a funeral.  Once you exit the chapel, you're greeted with the humble splendor of the tall evergreen woods.  The small, carved headstones are like rows of dotted lines throughout the ancient woods.  The trees are magnificent.  They tower over the little planted flowers on the graves as if to say hello, we know you're mourning, but remember that life is beautiful, and it goes on.



Greta Garbo is buried here. Her earth-toned tombstone has what I presume is her signature etched in gold. She has her own little plot of grass, surrounded by stepping stones and a red carpet of flowers, just behind the Skogskapellet, or Woods Chapel.

 

I ate my smörgås up in the meditation grove, which is a little square at the top of a hill with a gorgeous view of the woods and chapel. It felt a tiny bit weird eating in a place called the meditation grove, but I promise you that I concentrated respectfully as I ate. Anyway, I think it would be weirder to drop crumbs on someone's grave.

 



I highly recommend listening to the Choir of King's College as you cycle around -- that's about as close to Christian divinity as I'll ever get.

I hear this is the place to be on Allhelgonadagen, or All Saints Day, when the entire forest glows with candles on every grave.

Skogskyrkogården
South Stockholm, near Gamla Enskede

4. Millesgården
Ride time: 20-45 min.

How to get there:
Ride east on Odengatan until you get to Valhallavägen.  Turn right and ride past the Tekniska Hogskolan until you reach Stockholms Stadion.  Make a left onto Lidingövägen.  Follow the bike path until you reach the water.  There's a tricky bit here where you have to ride down to the Silja ferry terminal, and it seems like you're going the wrong way, but stay on the path.  Go straight until you see the sign for Lidingö.  Follow the path to the very straight and easy low foot and bicycle bridge.  Once you get over the bridge, you have to find your way to the top of the hill.  I took the path to the right down until I reached a staircase, then I walked my bike up.  Then I walked up the steep paths from there.  There is probably an easier way to the top, but I didn't find it.



Millesgården was the home of sculptor Carl Milles, his wife Olga and his sister Ruth during the first half of the 1900s.  It's a huge garden at the top of a hill with lots of Milles' whimsical sculptures, big and small, pretty flowers and tinkling fountains.  The sculpture's not really to my taste, but it is a really peaceful, beautiful spot for just soaking in the sun and looking at the ferries docked on the other side of the water. 

The place is enormous, built on a really grand scale, especially by Swedish standards.  The house sits higher than most places in Stockholm, overlooking the Lilla Värtan body of water between Lidingö and Norrmalm. 

The house is filled with Milles' collection of Greek artifacts, as well as art deco light fixtures, Swedish woodwork and pretty tiling.  But the best thing about the place is the way the air flows through the house.  You walk from room to room and the air just moves with you, filling the place with a lightness, a freshness that is incomparable on a hot day.  The feng shui must be off the hook.











Statues on the terrace garden play at eye level.  The sculptures in the main garden face out towards the world on giant pedestals, glorious in the sun and towering over the city.







The adjoining Bistro Rosenterrassen is pretty good, too.  I had a nice pear tårta and a bottle of fizzy water in the cosmos-filled garden.  They serve bullar from the Milles' own recipe.  They looked a little boring to me, so I went for cake instead, but they were offering a special deal with your entrance fee -- 90 SEK to enter the garden, and only 10 SEK more for a coffee and bulle.

Lidingö is one of the prettiest places around town, so it's nice just to ride along the edge of the island at the foot of the cliff, too.

Millesgården
Lidingö

5. Norra Begravningsplats
Ride time: 15-30 min.

How to get there: Take Torsgatan north until you get to Solnavägen.  Take it up until there is a fork, where you can choose to take Märstastråket.  You can't miss it.

Norra Begravningsplats was a really lovely surprise.  It's off the beaten path and it's barely on the map, though it's quite close to the city.  But once you ride up north this way, you can't miss it.  There are hedges around the edges of the grounds, so you don't really get a sense of what's inside until you actually go in.  It's an enormous cemetery, similar in style to Skogskyrkogården but a little less perfect. 

I met someone tonight who lives in Solna, very close to Norra Begravningsplats.  She said, "There are many gläntor there -- that's quite a romantic Swedish word you should know."  Glänta translates into glade, but what it means is a special spot where the light falls through deciduous trees just so, like in the John Bauer illustration she showed me to explain the word.



In the States, people often place cut bouquets on graves, but I've noticed that in Sweden, everyone plants flowers right in front of the tombstone.  Makes the cemetery a much less gloomy place.  I like the idea of living things growing in a place that marks death.



It's probably not the place to put out a picnic, since there aren't any spots really to do such a thing, but it's a peaceful place to ride around and listen to music in.

Norra Begravningsplatsen
Solna

----
I've put them on my map for you here.  And if it's a hot day, I highly recommend riding to Kungsholmens Glassfabrik for some citronglass or polkaglass to cool off after your ride.

Any of you Stockholmers have any suggestions for other day rides? 

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ITINERARY 2, DAY 4: Sunday

Get on your bikes and ride east along beautiful Strandvägen for brunch on your last day.

Museum time: Vasa Museum

Photo by Flickr user Telstar Logistics, CC licensed

I'm not much of a museum person when I travel.  Most of the time, I'd rather interact with people food than art.  But the Vasa Museum is pretty special.  It's basically a giant wooden ship from the 17th century that floated out to sea tiny bit and then sank to the bottom of the sea.  They fished it up in the 50s mostly intact and built a big museum to house it.

What I love most about it is that it's the biggest tourist attraction in Stockholm, and it's basically a tribute to a one of the biggest FAILS in nautical engineering history.  It's like an allegory denouncing the sin of pride.

There's not much to it.  You basically walk in, walk around the big ship, and then you're done. If you ever played pirates as a kid, you'll love it.  If you're not into big ships, you'll feel ambivalent about it.  But you kind of have to see it.  It's a nice, quick hit. 

Lunch and fika: Rosendals Trädgård

I don't know why I saved this for last.  Rosendals Trädgård is probably my favorite spot in all of Stockholm.  I've written about it before here, but it's a very different place in the spring and summer.  It's a big complex smack in the middle of Djurgården, Stockholm's Central Park.  A set of converted greenhouses sit at the top of a hill, surrounded by farmed land and a small apple orchard.  The warmer it gets, the louder the flora colors are -- first come the crocuses and the then tiny grape hyacinths, then feathery tulips,  then apple blossoms, then lilacs, then jasmine, then lilies, as well as all kinds of flowers I don't know the names of.  Nature in Sweden can be so aggressive -- the flowers have two, three months to bloom and they sure do procreate like they mean it.

The organic gardens around the complex provide the cafe with emerald lettuces and beautiful, jewel-colored vegetables.  If no one is looking, you can even gather a handful of smultron, or wild strawberries, from the fruit patch.

I missed the blooming of the apple trees this year, but I hear that a picnic in the orchard as the blossoms start to rain petals down is about as close to heaven as you can get.
 




And the food is wonderful -- organic and locally sourced for the most part, with emphasis on hearty, farm-fresh ingredients dressed with a light hand.  Sej, a firm white-fleshed fish, is served sauteed with crispy hunks of bacon and fresh potatoes. Vegetarian soups like beet with cumin and creme fraiche or vegetable are full-flavored and filling without being too heavy. 

Order your dessert and coffee with your meal so you don't have to wait on line a second time.  I love the cream cheese frosted carrot cake and the perfectly creamy-dense chocolate kladdkaka with whipped cream.  I could eat kladdkaka every day.

Don't forget to hit the butik, where you can get really delicious marmelades like carrot with Persian spices or saffron fig to smuggle back, along with their bakery's breads and cookies for the plane.

Rosendals Trädgård
Djurgården
T-bana: Kungsträdgården

Have a safe flight home!

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ITINERARY 2, DAY 3: SATURDAY

Weekend Brunch: Djurgården

Sleep in a bit - it's the weekend!  Pick up some bikes from the nearest bike station and head over to Djurgården's Blå Porten, which I've also written about here.  Carbo-load on refined smörgåsar like croissants with brie and vegetables or multi-grain buns, or butter-soaked tosca raspberry cake and thick slices of cardamom cake.  Those who are ready for something a little more substantial can also order cooked entrees from the If you love the colorful Lotta Kühlhorn trays they use there, you can get them at the Liljevalchs art museum next door.











Or if it's raining and you don't feel like getting soaked in the garden, you can try Flickorna Helin & Voltaire a little up Rosendalsvägen.  A few rustic, dark-stained wood tables and booths fill the corners of the inner room.  Try the gubbmacka, a classic country open-faced sandwich made with sliced, hard-boiled egg draped with a few anchovy fillets over ruffly lettuce and buttered, syrup-sweetened dark bread.  Two chives recline over the composition like slender antenna, adding just the right amount of sharpness with each bite.  It's pretty badass.  I also love the enormous face-sized chocolate meringue, a sugar bomb that you'll want to wash down with a nice, bitter cup of black coffee.

Blå Porten
Djurgårdsvägen 64
T-bana: Kungsträdgården
No reservations required

Flickorna Helin och Voltaire
Rosendalsvägen 14
T-bana: Kungsträdgården
No reservations required

Post-brunch bike ride

If you don't have time to ride outside the city center, you should definitely do this inner-city loop.  Djurgården can be a totally magical place, even if the weather is uncooperative.  I ride around here as often as I can.  In fact, there is nothing I enjoy more than to eat something sugary and then take off through the lush green park.

Djurgården is the former hunting ground for the royal family.  These days, Djurgården and the rest of the royal grounds are owned collectively by the Swedish people.  The grounds are extremely well-cared for, perfect for the constitutional walks Swedish people like.  There are very few hills and plenty of well-marked bike lanes; just don't get your tires stuck in the tram tracks.  Take the main drag all the way past Skansen*, past Gröna Lund, and go east towards the marina.  Loop back up all the way along the tree-lined canal.  

If you're out at the right time, you'll pass horses flicking their tails peacefully in the grass.  Dozens of black-faced sheep graze just an arm's distance away; ambivalent red cows stand guard over their frolicking calves. Swans and fuzzy swanlings glide, while gray geese sit staunch on the banks, unperturbed by the crunch of bicycle tires on the gravel path.  Sailboats cut across the water, past mansions and cottages, all of them adorned with exuberant flora in rich Gauguin colors.  The air is unbelievably fresh and crisp.  My co-worker says that being out during a rain or post rain is best for exercise because there is so much oxygen in the air.  I am not sure if this is some kind of sour grapes compensation, but I would like to believe it is true.

Once you get up to the northeast corner of Djurgården, cross the road and ride through the tall grasses of Ladjurgården.  There isn't a ton to see here, but it is a lovely place to zip around.  It's very easy to spend two hours just exploring the park.  If you need to trade in your bike, there is a single, very popular station down at Gröna Lund.

Thirsty?  Let's head down the east side of Gamla Stan and make it back over to Söder.

Afternoon libation: Mosebacke

Mosebacke is a fine place to do a little people-watching while sipping on rosé, the summer refresher of choice.  It reminds me of Harry's at Water Taxi Beach, only it is sitting on a cliff high over the water.  They also have one of the finest views of the city in all of Stockholm.  On a nice day, the place is packed with RayBan sporting hipster kids.  The menu is quite limited to a few items like chicken Caesar salad and roast beef with potato salad.  It is generally uninteresting, so I don't recommend it, unless you're starving/too drunk/having too much of a good time to go anywhere else for food.

A good option for a snack (if you are somehow already hungry again) is the Nystekt Strömming kiosk down by Slussen.  This busy little cart sells freshly fried herring with all the fixings - pressgurka, vinegary cucumber salad,  crème fraiche, slivers of red onion and parsley, all piled on crunchy knäckebröd.  Fresh and clean and delicious.  And utterly authentic.

Mosebacke
Mosebacketorg 3
T-bana: Slussen

Nystekt Strömming
Cart outside the Slussen T-bana
T-bana: Slussen 

Now that you have had a nip of tipple, let's get back on the road!

Afternoon bike tour

You can pick up bikes in several City Bikes stations near Slussen.  Curve down the swirl of ramps and take the path towards Söder Malarstrand, which is a lovely bike path by the water lined with ships-cum-restaurants/hotels/nightclubs.  Curve down to Hornstull Strand and ride all the way until you reach Tanto Lund.

I'm not exactly sure what the history of Tanto Lund is, but it's like a teeny village of elven summer houses with some of the prettiest flower gardens in all of Stockholm.  This area is quite hilly, so you might have to get off the bike and walk around a bit.

Take Ringvägen's wide bicycle path all the way around Söder until you reach Skanstull.  Turn up Götgatan a bit here and you'll get to your dinner destination.

Dinner: Pelikan or Thai Boat

Pelikan is another one of those places that everyone in Stockholm loves.  It's an old Södermalm pub that has been around since the 1600s - well, the pub name has been around; the pub itself has moved locations many times.  

This claimed 17th century heritage feels genuine, though - it's easy to imagine time standing still here, with plenty of impassioned meetings taking place over long glasses of ale and artery-clogging dishes.  The Pelikan room mixes masculine and feminine elements together evenly. Hard, angular, dark wood booths ground the huge room's high walls.  Male waiters in white shirts and black vests glide around the chatter-filled room, which is noisy but not painfully so.  The gentle light filtering in through the huge windows mixed with the candlelight at the tables and the warm beige color on the walls lights everyone's faces up in the most romantic way.  A little gilded art deco mural of a monkey in the jungle climbs the wall, and a single playing card is knifed into the 20 foot ceiling.  Otherwise, the room is quite bare of decoration and garnish.

The food is again classic husmanskost, quite heavy. The best dish was cider mustard-glazed "schweinehaxe", a grilled pork neck, thick and unapologetic -- imagine Tony Soprano's fatty, meaty thugs as pigs and you've got the picture.  Meatballs here are tough nuts and a little liver-like - perhaps venison or moose in the mix? - not my fave. You can only get the pytt i panna after regular dinner hours, at the end of the night - I don't know if this is a good or bad thing.

Plenty of seats in the main hall, which means we were able to get a table without a reservation.  It's also a good place to accommodate large groups.  I actually ran into an old friend from New York whom I hadn't seen in two years, which only added to the feeling that we were being transported in time.

If you're tired of husmanskost, though (which, given the fact that you have only been here for three days, seems unlikely), you can always try the Thai Boat, which is parked in the summer down past Skanstull.  It's literally a boat docked on the south end of Söder, serving surprisingly fair Thai food.  I especially liked the steamed sea bass with raw garlic and cilantro.  The occasional live band plays on a sand-strewn stage, and fresh-from-Thailand immigrants pack the outdoor bar area.  It's a lovely place to sit and be raucous when the weather is nice.

Pelikan
Blekingegatan 40
T-bana: Skanstull

Thai Boat
Kajplats 300 at the end of Östgötagatan
T-bana: Skanstull

Late evening: Hang by the water

Make sure you check out a few bikes before 10pm.  My buddy Niklas called me and convinced us to ride over near Djurgården to drink with him on his friend's two-level boat - CHIC.  Three skinny cabin bedrooms, beer and cider in the fridge, it's the kind of place where I would totally put out under the right circumstances.  Who knew I was such a Hamptons ho?

We sat around and spent a lot of time debating America's merits and demerits with Swedes who wanted to know what America really thinks of them (the honest truth - they don't think of Sweden very much at all).  Company included a dude with one wonky Simpsons eye and a Mike Tyson face tat, though his lack of chattiness was probably the most intimidating thing about him.

But say you don't have a friend who has a friend who has a boat.  You can also ride over to Strandbryggan and have a little seaside cocktail there, or Josefinas, another pricy beach furniture boite by the water.  I haven't been, but it's been recommended to me a few times.  Lots of bland but pretty people in the pictures, but you can't go wrong sitting out at Djurgården.  Ride safely, and don't forget to return your bikes by 1am.

Strandbryggan
Strandvägskajen 27
T-bana: Kungsträdgården

Josefinas
Galärvarvsvägen 10
T-bana: Kungsträdgården

And after the show, it's the after party

Oh, you still want to go out?  My friend Klara tells me the hot party in town right now is Trädgården, an outdoor party which takes place under the Skanstull bridge.   Catch the club kids before closing time at 1am.

Trädgården
Hammarby slussväg 2
T-bana: Skanstull

*No Skansen on either itinerary.  I think it's very missable.  Unless you must see a deeply depressed elk up close.

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ITINERARY 2, DAY 2: FRIDAY

Breakfast: home
Okay, we're packing in a lot today, so keep up.  If you need breakfast, have something light at home.  I suggest the Vanilj hjortron äpple (vanilla cloudberry apple) yogurt from Valio with muesli.  Or you can pick up a little smörgås of bread, butter, cheese, cucumber and red pepper from any cafe.  Or just a little coffee and away we go!

Food halls
Stockholm has a couple of food halls worth exploring.  Östermalms Saluhall is the classic food hall in the fancy part of town.  I went there on my first week in Stockholm, and it's worth checking out if you're in the area.  The building is pretty, filled with wood stalls and lots of little ready-to-eat food shops and raw ingredients.  But I think it's also a bit touristy.

I prefer Hötorgetshallen, which happens to be close to my work.  This was traditionally more of a market for the people, but it is also expensive.  Still, expect to find stacks of smoked fish, cheeses, breads, reindeer loins, and a handy Systembolaget, as well as excellent takeout like my favorite, a Turkish meze stand where you can get three types of meze for 69 SEK.  (I always get a bit of parsley and coriander crusted salmon, a scoop of thick yogurt with zucchini and garlic, and a scoop of mashed, roasted eggplant and peppers.)  The produce stall is stupid expensive, but they do sell lots of frozen wild berries like smultron (alpine strawberries) and hjortron (cloudberries).

The outdoor market on Hötorget's square is actually just like the fruit carts on the street in New York -- not local, and the strawberries have probably been shipped in from Germany or Spain.

Farmer's markets here are really hard to come by, which is a shame because that's always my favorite part about a city.  If you're here for the three weekends in August and the six weekends from August to October that they're open, you can check out the Bondens egen Marknad site for details on where they set up.  I haven't seen them yet, so I can't say whether or not they're good; I'm always out of town when they're open. 

Stockholm, you need more farmer's markets!  You of the hälsotallrik and the färskpotatis obsession!  Seriously, it will change your life.

Lunch: Hötorgetshallen, Kajsas Fisk
Stand online and squeeze into a table in the dark, low-ceilinged Hötorgetshallen stand -- it's part of the experience.  I recommend a round of the fisksoppa, mystery mix fish soup, with a little bit of aioli and a healthy scoop of the harissa by the counter.  Filling and fortifying with some buttered knäckebröd.  Skip the fried calamari, which is heavy and greasy.

Post lunch: View from the water
Get a one-way ticket on the hop-on, hop-off sightseeing boat, which is 100 SEK.  This may sound cheesy, but it's really nice to stand at the front of the boat for an hour and see the city from the water.  You can also use this ticket to gain entry to Gröna Lund, where you should stop if you're into amusement parks.  I think there is also a cheaper price for one-way rides, with which you can see the entire loop.

Dinner: 2 options: Matsalen ($$$$) or Max ($)
If you've got a little cash to burn, go to Mathias Dahlgren's Matsalen.  It's one of only two Michelin 2-star restos in Stockholm, and it was one of the most giddy, tingle-inducing meals of my life.  It deserves its own post, so hang in there for the review.  But make your reservation now!

If you're running low on cash, try Max, the classic burger chain from the north of Sweden.  Northerners are real union people (think Detroit), and the chain is famous for having shut McDonald's out of the market up North, where the locals refused to support it.  I'm not going to say the burgers are good -- the patties reminded me of White Castle burgers, without the slime -- but the fries with dipping sauce are excellent.  And then you can say you supported the local Goliath-tumbler.

If, you're on the Max option and your friends are on the Matsalen option, you'll have some time to kill, so it might be fun to check out a movie.  Cinemateket, which is currently closed for the summer until August 17, is the classic Stockholm arthouse movie theater.  You could also try Zita on Birger Jarlsgatan.  If you want to see something mainstream, check out SF Bio. [Disclaimer: They're owned by the people who pay my rent.]

Dancing: Cliff Barnes Restaurant

This place was described to me as "not classy by any means, but a good place for people of a certain age who are too old to go dancing all night."  Music starts promptly at 11pm and ends promptly at 1am.  We walked from Matsalen up to Norrtullsgatan, really not knowing what to expect.

From the outside, the place looks a little bit like a high school; the patrons outside could have been nicotine-addicted moms and dads discussing parent-teacher conferences inside.  But when we walked in, the bouncer asked us to wait for a moment until some patrons could clear out of the rowdy, overcrowded room.  You could feel the humidity and heat pulsating from inside.  And the best part was that every single person in the room was singing along at the top of their lungs to Bon Jovi's "Livin' On A Prayer".  When he unhooked the rope to let us in, here's what the bouncer said:

BOUNCER: Okay, there are only two rules.  No dancing on the tables, and no opening the windows.  You can dance in the window or on the chairs.  Have fun and be nice.

And sure enough, there was a lot of chair dancing, a lot of fun, and no air circulation.  Lots of radio hits from the 80s as well as a few Euro tunes we had never heard, but that everyone else knew the words to.  Also, there was very little rhythm to be found anywhere.  But plenty of people jumping on each other's backs and falling over.  In a very benign, clumsy way.  Seriously, nowhere in Stockholm are there more drunk-ass nerdz making total uncoordinated fools of themselves and not giving a rat's ass.  Francis and Raymond stared slack-jawed in disbelief for an hour.  It's really a slice of life spectacle you have to see to understand. 

RAYMOND: If you had told me what this was going to be like, I wouldn't have believed you.

Cliff Barnes
Norrtullsgatan 45
T-bana: Odenplan

And after the show, it's the after party
If you are STILL up for partying, you're going to have to go without grandma.  Everybody usually winds up at Berns or Spy Bar in Stureplan with the rest of the kids at the end of the night, because they stay open til 5am, at least on the weekends.  You ain't in Berlin, people.

I haven't been to Spy Bar, so I can't say what it's like.  But Berns is part of the Berns Hotel, and if it weren't filled with teenagers trying to get their liquor on, it would be quite a beautiful place.  I went there early in my stay in Stockholm and had a great time doing my early 90s booty grinds alongside kids who may very well have been half my age. The main ballroom is  huge, with high-ceilings, wood paneled walls and elegant lantern-shaped chandeliers.  During the winter, the second-floor terrace stays open while they blast the heat lamps.  Not very environmentally friendly.  The snow sparkles in the floodlights, and the crush of bodies and the lamps form a heat shield that melts the flurries of snow on contact.  It's pretty spectacular.

Tomorrow, we get some physical activity in, so drink a lot of water before you go to bed.

To recap: So you've got four days in Stockholm and you want to make the most of it.  Or you're hosting two sets of guests for four days each and you don't want to do the same thing twice.  Here is The EDOW Guide to Stockholm in 4 Days, 2 Ways.

Itinerary 1 can be found here.

--- 

And now, onto the second itinerary!


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ITINERARY 2, DAY 1: THURSDAY

It's funny, I think Winnie and Francis missed each other by about 30 minutes.  Francis and Raymond had an early afternoon arrival and were offered the same snacks chez moi.

Get a bike


Photo by Flickr user Let Ideas Compete, CC Licensed

Welcome to Stockholm!  If I were you, I'd get a City Bikes card right away.  Since you'll be here for four days, I would recommend getting the full season card, which is just 200 SEK (the 3-day card is 125 SEK).  You can go to the Tourist Center in T-Centralen to get a City Bikes card, or go to an SL office at Slussen, Fridhemsplan, or a number of other stations.

The City Bikes system is easy -- you get a card, and you can borrow a bike from any of the many stations around the city.  When you're done riding around, you can leave the bike at any station you can find -- doesn't have to be the station that you borrowed the bike from.  The system is not as big as the Paris bikeshare program, but it's big enough for Stockholm. 

The maximum time you can keep a bike out for is three hours.  The website currently says you can borrow from 6am to 6pm, but actually, they've extended the hours and you can now borrow bikes till 10pm (which means that if you borrow a bike at 10am, you can keep it out until 1am.)

If you keep a bike out for longer than three hours, you get a strike against you.  Two strikes and you won't be allowed to borrow a bike anymore.  If you keep a bike out for more than five hours, you automatically get kicked out of the system.  

All of the bikes have small wheels with a quick-release adjustable height seat, so they work for shorties and tall folk.  We didn't have any trouble getting bikes or finding a free spot to drop them off. Make sure you check your bike before you ride off, though.  While they're supposedly serviced all day long, Francis got one with faulty gears.

Du Gamla, Du Fria

 
This is a good time to walk around Gamla Stan, peeking in at Ye Olde Shoppes and buying reindeer skins if you must.  Gamla Stan means Old Town, and that's pretty much what it is -- all cobblestoned streets, health-inducing hills and sherbet toned buildings.  I don't know, Francis quite liked it, but it doesn't really do much for me.

When you're done, borrow a bike from the Gamla Stan station and ride north along the water, out past the Norstedts building, across the bridge, and up to Vasagatan. This is one of my favorite bike routes in Stockholm, especially at sunset. 

Ride up Vasagatan and follow the bike lane all the way to Torsgatan.  Take Torsgatan to S:t. Eriksgatan and drop your bikes off at the S:t Eriksplan station.  Walk through Vasaparken and down Dalagatan to get to the restaurant for dinner.

Dinner: Melanders Fisk
Melanders Fisk is a good place to start up on the fish and potatoes.  Pictures and my previous write-up about Melanders is here, but I think it's worth mentioning that the gravlax is special -- a coral origami fan of silky, cool fish adorned with a feathery frond of dill is served with a metal dish of hot, cream-enrobed new potatoes.  Divine.  Francis's method was to wrap one of those hot nuggets into a cool lox stole.  The majskyckling, corn-fed chicken, with summer truffled risotto is rich and earthy.  The fish stew I loved the first time wasn't as good the second time.  Go figure.

Melanders Fisk
Dalagatan 9R
T-bana: St. Eriksplan
It's not a super busy place, so I wouldn't say you need a reservation, but you can make one just in case.

After dinner: Music


Photo by Flickr user Bixentro, CC licensed

Okay, so actually, I took Francis and Raymond to Debaser Slussen, but since we already went there on itinerary 1, let's try any number of bars on Söder instead.  Pet Sounds Bar is popular with the indie rock crowd.  The walls are covered in glossy black rectangular subway tiles, giving the place a dark but clean feel.  Pompadoured and star tatted younguns lean their narrow, black jeans-clad hips against the barstools.  The bartenders make really interesting cocktails, including one with apple juice, lemon, and Żubrówka, a grassy Polish vodka.

If you want to stay in one place the whole evening, you can actually eat dinner here instead.  I have only eaten there once, but I remember the food being quite good, especially a gorgeous salad with crunchy pomegranate seeds, pomegranate molasses and chunky lego cubes of walnut-capped blue cheese.



Pet Sounds also has an intimate basement venue where DJs spin when indie rock heroes like Broken Social Scene and Lykke Li aren't playing.  

The whole operation is super sophisticated in a quintessentially Stockholm way.  I mean, imagine getting a composed salad with mixmaster cocktails in a high-design room at the Mercury Lounge.  During the day, check out Pet Sounds's museum of obsolete portable aural devices across the street.

It's also good to check out who's playing at Hornstull Strand, a big venue down by the water.  The young and beautiful cram themselves in wall to wall when international artists like Deerhoof and The Whitest Boy On Earth roll through.

Södra Teatern sometimes hosts interesting local acts.  I saw everyone's favorite Swedish ladies a cappella choir with one of the best band names ever, The Sweptaways.  As an added bonus, it's high on a hill overlooking the best view of the water in the city center.

If indie rock's not your thing, or if you're too old to stand all night with malnourished whippersnappers, look up Cirkus's schedule.  It's a big theater with a restaurant attached sitting in the middle of Djurgården.  There are plenty of seats for your weary gams, and David Byrne and Grace Jones played there this year.  But Chippendales and Cats are also playing there, so take it for what it's worth.

And if you are a REAL party pooper like me, you can just park your ass at home and hunt for Ulla Billquist clips on YouTube all night.
 


Pet Sounds
Skånegatan 80
T-bana: Medborgarplatsen

Hornstull Strand
Hornstull Strand 4
T-bana: Hornstull

Södra Teatern
Mosebacketorg 1-3
T-bana: Slussen

Cirkus
Djurgårdsslätten 4+45
T-bana: Kungsträdgården, but you are better off cycling or taking the bus

 

Getting to and from the airport:

If you're flying from Arlanda, you can take either the Arlanda Express train, which is 250 SEK and takes only 20 minutes to get to T-Centralen, or you can take the Flygbussarna bus, which is 110 SEK and takes 45 minutes and drops off at T-Centralen or a few spots in Stockholm.  I prefer the bus because it picks up and drops off practically in front of my apartment.

You can pay for either with a credit card -- it's cheaper to buy a ticket in the station for the train, and it's easiest to buy a ticket on the bus.  A reminder, the bus does not take cash, so make sure you have a credit card.  If you take the Flybussarna bus on a Saturday, take advantage of the special 2 for 1 price. 

I don't recommend taking a taxi from the airport -- it would cost you approximately 500 SEK, or about $75, and it won't get you into the city any faster. 

If you're flying from one of the smaller RyanAir airports, like Skavsta, your only option is the Flygbussarna or the RyanAir bus, which drop you off at T-Centralen. 


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ITINERARY 1, DAY 4: THURSDAY

If it's a travel day for you, make a little time to get to Cafe Saturnus for a cardamom bun, which I've written about before. Make sure you get the cardamom bun, not the cinnamon bun.  Believe me, you can make a meal (or two) out of one bun.  Avoid the omelettes, which are fried to a greasy crisp.

Cafe Saturnus
Erikbergsgatan 6
T-bana: Östermalmstorg
No reservation required

If you still have a little time, I recommend a nice walk down Birger Jarlsgatan to the water, then over to Skeppsholmen, a quiet little island trimmed with wooden piers and docked sailboats.  Pretend you're at the Pompidou when you walk by the Niki de Saint Phalle and Jean Tinguely sculpture garden.  Pop into the Moderna Museet, which many Stockholmers say is the best art museum in town.  Tuck into a light lunch of soup or a curry chicken smörgås at the outdoor tables on the pebble patio.

Thanks for coming to Stockholm!  Hope you enjoyed your stay!

---

What was that?  You didn't like that?  Looking for something more active, with a little more nightlife?  Let's face it, I'm the wrong gal to take you on a boozy spin through the club scene.  But Itinerary 2 kicks it up a tiny bit, so hang in there.

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ITINERARY 1, DAY 3: WEDNESDAY

Okay, I'm going to cheat here a little, because there was some overlap here.  The only person who'll notice is Winnie.  Anyway, inner monologue, pretend I didn't say anything.

Södermalm

I'm not going to use the H-word, but if you live in the lower east quadrant of Manhattan, or anywhere in the BK, you'll want to hang with your people on Södermalm.  If you didn't blow all your kronor on Norrmalm yesterday, you'll want to save some for the boutiques in the area known as SoFo (South of Folkungagatan, or We-want-to-be-like-New-York-and-who-could-blame-us). 

Nitty Gritty and Grandpa are favorites round these parts, for men and women's dead expensive streetwear, but there are also some great little vintage shops and furniture shops you can salivate in.  Just walk around, get lost and chase your wallet down the street.

The people watching is fab here.  The men have perfected the look that preppy look The Sartorialist loves and that Wburg metros sometimes try at -- the brushed and gelled Cary Grant hair, the popped collars, the little cardi, the aviators, occasionally accessorized with the non-ironic thin mustache.   And the women can be alien gorgeous, all swan neck and flamingo legs in denim and converse with blond bouffants and red lipstick.  

LUNCH: MACKOR
Swedish mackor, or sandwiches, are fantastic.  I love the morning macka of cheese and vegetables on bread, but lunch sandwiches are fantastic, too.  I still don't know what the difference between a smörgås and a macka is.    
 
Try Louie Louie, my friend Klara's favorite cafe in SoFo.  I haven't been, but I trust her.  I'm never down here during the day.  Or, if the weather's nice (that's the Swedish refrain, sing along with me!), walk west along Hornsgatan all the way to Hornstull Strand.  Far, far, west, you'll find Cafe Vurma, an adorbs little cafe with the menu handwritten on the wall, offering sandwiches with cute, hard-to-pronounce names like Rugguggla, Fjant and Snyggve. 

Pick up solid sandwiches like a vegan falafel sandwich on oat bread, excellent frosted chocolate cake, and, of course, coffee.  Take your sandwich to go and sit out in the park by the water.  If you're lucky, Friskis och Svettis (Fresh and Sweaty gym, the NYSC equivalent) will be holding outdoor aerobics classes so you can laugh at the uncoordinated Swedes at no additional cost.  One warning -- if there's a long line at Vurma, it will take you FOREVER to get your sandwich. 

COCKTAIL HOUR: Eriks Gondolen or Debaser Slussen (or both!)

So say it is 5pm and you are tired of all of the stripes and dangling cigarettes and skinny jeans.  Then take the elevator in the big glass office building up to Eriks Gondolen, a skinny little cabin in the sky where you can have well-prepared cocktails and a pretty fantastic view of Stockholm in all its earthy pastels against chalky gray sky glory.  If it's nice out, go all the way up to the top, where you can have your cocktails on the roof; like drinking at the top of the Empire State.


Photo by Winnie Yang

The uniformed bartender makes a well-balanced Pimms Cup, if a little heavy on the garnish (totally okay by me, as I like my cocktails like "fruit salad", as my friend Malin says). 

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, hold up.

Isn't this already over?

Nej!



We have an eleventh hour entry from Kungsholmens Glassfabrik on Pipersgatan in Kungsholmen.  Located right next to a school, evil bastards.



Exhibit A: Blodgrape Campari (grapefruit Campari) and mynta lime (mint lime).  Manageable sized scoops, dense and firm.  Flecked with pulp, zest and herb.  Smooth, icy, refreshing.  Chase with a shot of rum and stick an umbrella in your mouth.  Nothing funny about that cone, either.  Smells of caramel and vanilla, the way a good våffla should.




Exhibit B: Citronglass and Polkaglass.  Firm, biteable ice cream, stiff enough that it doesn't melt too quickly.  No air bubbles means zaftig dairy body without too much weight.  Citronglass is like milky lemon curd with bits of biscuit in it.  This is not the lemon perfume spritz of Italian crema.  This is sunny tarte au citron.  It's just puckery enough to make your glands pop but not so tart that you can't chase it down with...
...the Polkaglass.  It's ever so slightly pink, like it just overheard a dirty joke.  And it's pepperminty fresh.  Polka is the word for candy cane.  You laugh.  How about a little polkaglass over kladdkaka, Swedish chocolate cake?  Who's laughing now, buddy?



Exhibit C: Small batches in shades of occurs-in-nature pastel.  Enough flavors for you to want at least two, but not so many that they aren't made with intent.



Exhibit D: Swedish kids can enjoy their glass in the company of Chester, the Acne JR. bear.  Matchy matchy.  We get Fudgie the Whale, made of poo and shaving cream.

Cavity caveat: They're a not-insubstantial bike ride away unless you live in Kungsholmen and they close at 4pm on the weekends.  4pm!  Come on, at least pretend you want my money.

Kungsholmens Glassfabrik
Pipersgatan 14
T-bana: Rådhuset
30 SEK for two kula, which is the word for scoop, which is what I am calling my future ice cream shop.

A few general notes on Stockholm life:

• I feel very safe here (knock wood).  Walking around late at night is fine in Stockholm, even under bridges and through tunnels that I would normally avoid in other big cities.
• Walking is the pastime of choice here in Sweden, to be indulged at least once a day, and the after dinner stroll is the best one. There are plenty of excellent walking paths -- just look for all of the walkers.  Those gaggles of gray geese nesting on the grassy banks may be cute, but be careful -- I hear they can be quite aggressive.
• Everyone pays for everything with credit cards.  Though foreign transaction fees can add up, you can rest assured that you can pay for almost anything in any amount with a credit card.  Also, servers have no problem splitting a bill nine ways on nine credit cards. 
  
• Tipping is discouraged by the locals.  Servers are paid good wages, and locals don't want you to ruin the no-tipping thing for them.  10% is very generous on a nice meal, but rounding up to the nearest hundred is sufficient.  Tipping for drinks is unnecessary. UPDATE: My friend Anna, who used to be a waitress, says this is a misconception. You should tip, maybe up to 10%.  Leave a few crowns of change for your drinks.  General consensus still seems to be tip lightly, so follow the lead of the people around you. 
  
• Generally true, but not always true -- expect Stockholmers to want to split the bill exactly as ordered.  So if I had two glasses of wine with dinner but you had one glass, I would be expected to pay more than you.  Makes bill time fair but a buzzkill.
• Lunch is a very social activity.  Nobody eats at their desk.  That means that lunch can be an excellent deal in Stockholm (about 80 SEK or $10) and usually includes bread, salad, coffee and sometimes even cookies.  If you're looking to save cash, eat out for lunch and eat in for dinner.
  

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ITINERARY 1, DAY 2: TUESDAY

Shopping!

If you are shopping for Scandinavian design, there are plenty of places to burn through your money.  July and February are GREAT times for sales in Stockholm -- much merchandise goes 30, 50 and 70% off.  Those sales make high end design actually affordable.

For clothing, I like PUB, a small but well-selected department store in Hötorget.  It is a bit like Barney's Co-op, but with housewares as well.  The top floor features lots of young Scandinavian designers, including Carin Wester, Ann-Sofie Back, Camilla Norrback, 2707, and my absolute favorite, Designers Remix by Danish designer Charlotte Eskildsen.  The first floor also has lots of Scandinavian faves like Acne, Rodebjer, Whyred, Fifth Avenue Shoe Repair, Mads Nørgaard and Nudie.

Weekday is the spot for Cheap Monday jeans, the unbelievable painted on denim skins favored by fat free Swedish youth.  I can't rock them, but maybe you can.  Winnie bought a great ready-to-wear Carin Wester dress from the Weekday on Götgatan in Södermalm, which has a broader selection than the Weekday on Drottninggatan and Kungsgatan. 

NK is the Barney's of Stockholm.  I like the Scandinavian corner, with lots of offerings from Malene Birger, Dagmar, Rodebjer, Hope, Acne, etc.  The bottom floor also has a great kitchenware shop and a food hall. 

Filippa K (pronounced Filippa Ko) has boutiques near NK and on Götgatan.  Her clothes tend to look terrible on me, but I like her cool temp color palette. 

I am a fan of Acne's ugly beautiful clothes, so I would recommend seeing the flagship store on Hamngatan in Norrmalmstorg, right by the Filippa K.  I have to admit, though, that I bought a dress from them and I've been too chicken to wear it.  You really have to own it to make it work.  The store has a chic dressing room that used to be a vault.  You will probably also get to see this guy working there.  (For cheaper, previous season stuff, try Acne Archive on Torsgatan.)  

While in Norrmalmstorg, you can also visit the nearby Marimekko shop for the Finnish label's high quality home textiles as well as clothing, accessories, and more.

Speaking of Finnish design, Winnie went to town on a sale at Ittala boutique on Götgatan, the Finnish glass and ceramic designer whose beautiful and very usable pieces everyone has here.   

Stockholm turned me into a label whore!  If you see me wearing weird Swedish duds, though, rest assured I bought them 50% off or more.  (Except for the one Acne dress I'm still not entirely sure about.  But one day, someone will invite me to the right party for it.)

LUNCH: Vete-katten

I am not sure what Winnie did for lunch on this day, but I would recommend Vete-katten.  They have a labyrinthine and quaint kafferum, or coffee room, which is tricked out to look like grandma's parlor.  Try classic Swedish smörgåsar (sandwiches) on house baked bread or baked potatoes with skagen, the shrimp dill mayo salad.  (Sounds a little strange, but trust me, totally delicious.)  What you really want to save room for, though, is coffee and dessert. 


Photo by Winnie Yang

My favorite choklad biskvie in Stockholm can be found here -- an almond paste macaroon is topped with a mound of chocolate buttercream and dipped in semi-sweet chocolate to form a little coolie hat you crack with your teeth. 

If you are lucky enough to be in Stockholm around Fat Tuesday, you must get the semla, a cardamom yeast roll filled with almond paste and chantilly cream.

Vete-katten
Kungsgatan 55
T-bana Hötorget

DINNER: Kvarnen
Kvarnen is one of those classic old Stockholm pubs from back in Södermalm's days as a working class hood.  It's a popular spot for Hammarby football supporters, so don't go in wearing somebody else's scarf unless you want to get your ass kicked.  Otherwise, don't be intimidated -- it's more Sherlock Holmes than Cheers.  The gorgeous, high-ceilinged room has black and white hexagonal floor tiles, funny sculptures mounted on the walls, old wood booths, and lots of stained glass.  


Photo by Winnie Yang

At some point during my stay, I turned from herring-hater into herring-lover.  Which is good because Swedes can really knock the herring back, at least during the holidays.  The smör och sill sampler at Kvarnen is excellent, four types, served with boiled fresh potatoes, knäckebröd (hardtack? rykrisp? hard bread?) and Västerbotten cheese.  Their matjessill, which you have to order separate from the sampler, was the best I have had so far, sweet and salty spice-cured herring served with minced red onion, chives, sliced hard-boiled egg and potatoes in a pool of brown butter. Such sexy texture.  Don't forget to get an ice cold snaps with your herring -- I like Hallands Fläder, but you can go for the classic O.P. or Skåne.

Husmanskost, or classic Swedish comfort food, really sticks to your bones.  I like to imagine old school Swedes eating a huge meal like this with pitchers of ale, passing out at the end of the day, and waking up in the morning to chop down trees in the snow.  As long as you have a hearty appetite, you'll appreciate the cream gravy moistened älg Wallenbergare (elk burger), served with sugar snap peas and mashed potatoes.  The stekt strömming (fried herring) was beautiful, strewn with diced beets and capers. 


Photo by Winnie Yang

Pytt i panna is my favorite kind of dish -- it's like an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink hash, topped with a fried egg, which you spoon up with slices of cooked beets.  It's the kind of dish you only want to eat at a place you trust not to throw past-due horse meat in.  Unless past-due horse meat is your thing. 

Warning: if you show up early for dinner, pace yourself -- hefeweizen comes in a glass you could give birth in.  In fact, if you can really run yourself ragged during the day, you'll feel a lot better sitting down to a meal this heavy.

Kvarnen
Tjärhovsgatan 4
T-bana: Medborgarplatsen
Reservations not required in the summer, but call to make sure

After dinner, take a long, digestive walk back to wherever you're staying, preferably over some hills or along some water. 

So you've got four days in Stockholm and you want to make the most of it.  Or you're hosting two sets of guests for four days each and you don't want to do the same thing twice.  Here is The EDOW Guide to Stockholm in 4 Days, 2 Ways.  I'm guilty of being an over-planner, but I like filling my time and I assume other people do, too.

Here is a map that I will be adding to as I write the content.  (I am so good at this travel guide shit, somebody should pay me to do it.  Toot toot.)


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Neighborhood stereotyping:
Stockholm is an archipelago made of lots of little islands that trickle out east into the sea for hours.  There are five main islands in the inner city.  Clockwise from the top, it goes Norrmalm, Djurgården, Södermalm and Kungsholmen, with Gamla Stan as the little eyeball in the middle. 

Norrmalm consists of, from left to right, Vasastan, the city center, and Östermalm. Vasastan is like Park Slope -- young families, quiet, lots of good restaurants.  The city center, near T-Centralen, is Midtowny, with Drottninggatan, a main shopping drag, the biggest department stores, and lots of office buildings.  Östermalm is the upper east side and Soho, swanky, boutiquey and expensive for the most part.

Djurgården is the former hunting grounds of the royal family.  It is a gigantic, gorgeous park with marinas, tons of excellent cafes, a huge amusement park and a funny little Ren-Fair-like village called Skansen.  This island is one of my favorite spots in the whole city.

Södermalm is the East Village, Williamsburg and Greenpoint. If you seek hipsters, you will find them here.  There are lots of great restaurants, bars and music venues here, of course. You get the best panoramic view of the city from the hills on the northern part of the island.  This part of the city has working class roots, so there are lots of classic pubs for the people.

Kungsholmen is where City Hall sits.  I don't actually know that much about Kungsholmen.  It's a pretty place to cycle around, and I've been to a couple of good restaurants there, but it's a bit more quiet and residential.  I do my grocery shopping there because they've got Fridhemsplan, a magic little corner with a bunch of grocery stores.  Not that interesting for visitors (unless you are Winnie Yang), but good to know if you are moving here.  

Gamla Stan is the tourist vortex.  It's pretty, and my guests thought it was interesting. I've only walked through once, and can't say it did anything for me. I generally ride around it on my way to Söder.

General tips for visitors:
 

• Stockholm is a reservations kind of town.  Book your tables in advance. 
  
• Everyone speaks English here.  In fact, everyone speaks vernacular-perfect American-English.  So don't be shy about calling and just launching into English.
• Hope you like fish and potatoes.  The Swedes do.  And so do I.
  
• The city shuts down in July, so if you're here in July, you may find a lot of places closed.  Not all, but a lot.  The restaurants listed here are all open, though. 
  
• Taxis are stupid expensive.  Still, don't bother with the long term train card.  You can pretty much walk to get everywhere.  Even better is the incredible City Bikes system.  The city is wonderful at bike speed, with lots of bike lanes and a good number of city bike stations.  At 200 SEK for the entire season, it can't be beat.  Especially since the advertising that paid for the bike system is completely lost on you.
• Eating out is expensive here. If you are on a budget, do as the locals do and eat picnics in the many parks.  But remember that you can't get cold bevs at the Systembolaget.  Folköl, beer that is up to 3.5% alcohol, is available at grocery stores all the time, though.
  
• It may rain.  Check smhi.se for fairly accurate local weather.  Bring a raincoat.  But don't be deterred by the rain, either.  It tends not to pour.  Just be a viking and get out there and do what you would normally do.
• That said, try to come for the summer.  Summer is pretty spectacular here.  Why see the city when it's less than its best?
  

ITINERARY 1: Made for Winnie, who came from Monday afternoon to Thursday morning.  Winnie just got back from El Bulli and was looking for a taste of life in Stockholm, but nothing too fancy since she'd just blown a wad of cash in Spain.  She was also pretty beat from running around San Sebastian and had some work to do, so we kept it pretty light.  Since it was a weekday trip, I also couldn't indulge in late night partying.  Winnie doesn't cycle, so we didn't have any bike trips.  Not that grandma would have, anyway.

ITINERARY 2: Made for Francis and Raymond, who came from Thursday afternoon to Monday morning.  The two of them were up for anything, and were really pliable to whatever I suggested.  Since they were here over the weekend, we had a few late nights (at least, late for me) and I was able to do more tour guiding.  They had just come from Berlin and were keen on bicycling, so we got to see a lot more of the city.  Francis was also willing to do a fancy hit with me, so this itinerary offers one upscale restaurant visit.

ITINERARY 1, DAY 1: MONDAY


photo by Winnie

Settle in and have a snack.  Winnie had an afternoon arrival.  If I'm not going to be home to greet guests, I like to make sure there's a nice variety of snacks available for them when they first arrive.  They should at least be able to have a bowl of cereal.  I'm always ravenous when I get off a plane.

After a snack, walk around the city. If you're in Vasastan, check out the brief but lively Rörstrandsgatan for good shopping, cafes and eateries.  Or if you are in Söder, walk up Götgatan and South of Folkungagatan (SoFo). 

Dinner: Tranan
This cozy Vasastan bistro is everyone's favorite place to eat in Stockholm.  Golden candlelight bounces off of mural-painted walls and red and white checked tablecloths.  The noise level is  pleasant -- no disco woofers and just enough room sound that you can hear the Skål! at the table next to yours but not the details of the conversation.  The menu offers a good variety of updated Swedish classics.  When the bread basket comes around, make sure to get a few pieces of the amazing black bread.  It's sweet and almost chocolate cake-y, shot through with spices and hazelnuts and all manner of delicious things.  I have no problem with slathering butter all over a piece of chocolate cake-like bread.


photo by Winnie

Try sikrom toast, pictured above -- a chicken egg-sized scoop of yellow whitefish roe is served with butter-fried toast points, red onion, chives, sour cream and lemon.  I could make a meal of it.  Yumz.  Meatballs, served with the classic accompaniments of rårörda lingon (sugared lingonberries), pressgurka (sweet pickled pressed cucumbers) and mashed potatoes, are some of the best in the city.  They aren't always on the menu, but they're always available.  And the stekt strömming is a classic example of breaded, fried herring, highlighting its fresh sweetness.  But skip the tomato salad -- I have yet to have a properly sun-ripened tomato here.  I know it is a little early, but we were able to have some in Italy in May that were divine.

If you are here in a month other than July, you can also try Bar Tranan, attached to the restaurant.  Hand-written chalkboard menus offer lovely girly cocktails like champagne with elderflower syrup.  The dark wood and candlelight create a convincing pub-cave effect.  The electronica DJ can be a bit assertive with the volume, but you shouldn't come to this bar to have an intimate chat.  Grab a booth against a wall and watch the young Vasastan peacocks and mantises check each other out.

Tranan
Karlbergsvägen 14, Odenplan
T-bana: Odenplan
08-52728100
You can also book tables through their Web site

(OMG, writing up this whole itinerary is going to take me forever.  I have already missed an two hours of sunshine today and I only got through one day.  Gah!  Bear with me!)

Everybody in my office is on vacation.  Sweden shuts down in July, and of the 70 people usually in my office, we're down to about 10.  I think I'm the only person in Sweden not taking any vacation in July.

Today the sky matches the shirt I'm wearing, my new favorite.  It's a light blue cotton gauzy thing that looks good no matter how many cinnamon buns I have eaten.  It's especially nice to wear when I ride my bicycle out because the wind rips right through it and it feels like I'm riding around in my underwear.  My new rule is to not buy any more black clothing.  Yes, I am totally turning into an Eileen Fisher crone.
 

As you can see, I'm also pretty tan.  I think because we actually go outside for lunch everyday and soak up a little bit of sunshine each day.  I'll admit, I am not looking forward to eating lunch over my computer when I get back.  My SPF 15 face cream probably isn't cutting it, but when in Sweden...

I have been having trouble writing my blog, I think because I feel time winding down quickly and I don't want to spend it chained to the laptop.  There's a Swedish phrase, tidens tand, which means the teeth of time.  It's usually used in reference to a thing or person being ravaged by time, but I also like the idea of time eating, eating, eating life away.  And it is eating my special little experience up.

It's been fully five months, and now I have about six weeks left before I come home.  Of course I'm starting to freak out that I haven't done enough.  But Finland!  Norway!  And I never went back to Paris!  North of Sweden!  Aurora Borealis!  Sauna and frozen lake!  GAH!

I'm really excited to be back in Brooklyn and to see all of my beloved friends, but I have to admit that I'm a little worried about returning to New York.  Is it going to be too stressful?  Am I going to have a hard time adjusting?  Am I going to wish I did more while I was here?  Is everyone going to think I've gotten fat?

My appreciation for Sweden goes in and out, though.  When the weather is nice here, like it is today, I feel like there's nowhere else I would rather be in the world.  I fall in love with the flowers and the bike lanes and the life-first work ethic and the leggy blondes.

And when the weather sucks, which is not uncommon, I feel like, what was wrong with me, why do I think I like it here so much?  I only get the jokes about 50% of the time. Where are the colored people?  Why does everyone wear the same clothes?* 

And the things I've missed back home!  Michael Jackson!  Goldman is turning a big profit now?!  I haven't been to Governor's Island or the High Line.  I missed going to the Hudson house this year.  I don't even want to think about the catch-up I'm going to have to play when I get back to my regular job. 

Some days, I feel like I'm having Stockholm Syndrome with Stockholm.  I've fallen in love with my captor.  And then some days, the love feels very real, and I know I'll dream of my summer here.  This experience has been so very different from my year abroad in London.  I'm pretty sure I was uniformly miserable there.  I've had heartbursts of brilliant joy mixed with hard, tumbled stones of loneliness.  But mostly, life has been sweet, a little bland and sparkling, like the homemade elderflower champagne I had at a picnic the other day.

There's much to look forward to in the fall.  We have a subscription to the Met again and I can't wait for opera season to start.  I'm going to eat an entire jar of kimchi and tofu stew and ramen and congee and let someone else do the dishes.  And I'm going to do my laundry for six hours straight at whatever time suits me best.

I'm going on vacation in a few weeks to Gotland.  By myself!  I'm really going to be The Solitary Cyclist.  My plan is to cruise around the upper coast of Gotland before taking a bus to south Gotland to hang with the Swedish P.Diddy equivalents.  I plan to read and hand-write and unplug as much as I can.  Halla!**     

*Not joking, not a day goes by that I don't see at least one woman or man wearing this shirt.  Often, you'll see whole groups of women wearing it, hugging each other, becoming a wavy amoeba of nautical stripes.

**A Swedish joke.  Get it?  Yeah, give it five months.

 

Commenter Janet asks:

How late is the sunset now?

The view from my window at 9pm on Wednesday night.  All the light is disconcerting. It's hard to go to bed, and it's hard to sleep deeply in the morning.  I wind up eating dinner at 9:00pm because my body is confused and not hungry til then. 

The light has been coming on hard and fast.  The idea that the days will continue to get longer until about June 20 really boggles my mind.  I wonder if the descent into winter is just as rapid.

Dear guy in red station wagon,

So you know how the other day I yelled as you pulled out in front of me, "YOOOOOOOO!!!  ASSHOLE!"?  And then I rode up alongside you just so I could stick my head in your window and give you the evil eye?  And you know how you said something to me in Swedish, but I didn't respond?  And you repeated it but I still just kept giving you evil eye because I didn't understand?

Well, after you pulled away, I thought maybe you said "viktig" or "riktig".  And then I thought, hm, I think that means "right".  Maybe you were saying "right of way"?  But then why would you be saying "right of way"?  Weren't you cutting me off?  Or was I cutting you off?

And then I rode past that intersection again, and sure enough, there's a light there.  Which is weird because I didn't notice it before.  There's only construction work going on on your side of the road.  But I probably ran a red light.  Or did I?

So, um, listen, I'm really sorry I called you an asshole.  You probably weren't used to being called an asshole in English by an angry Asian cyclist in a stupid helmet and stupid aviators.  And I probably ruined your day. 

I always think that getting a good expletive out will be better than the slow burn of l'esprit d'escalier.  But it didn't help. 

And then I thought about how I maybe made you hate cyclists a little more.  Or Asians.  Or women.  Or Americans.  Or aviators.   

So if it makes you feel any better, the guilt eroded me and totally ruined my day, too.  And I have no way of unburdening myself of this guilt because I don't know where to find you.

But if you see me again, if you could please not run me over with your station wagon, that would be cool.

Förlåt!
Ganda

Name: Klara Kjellberg

Occupation: Web Editor + a lotta other stuff at Hyper Island

Neighborhood: Södermalm, Stockholm

Relationship status: Boyfriend/sambo (translate it) on a distance

What did you eat today?

Apple, banana, chocolate and peanuts. And a fish oil Omega 3 pill that my friend gave me.

What do you never eat?

Chicken sausage.

Complete this sentence: In my refrigerator, you can always find:

an onion of some kind.

What is your favorite kitchen item?

I love graters! Dreaming of a vegetable holder, kinda like the one on the left. Have grated one too many fingertips.

Where do you eat out most frequently?

Right now, Louie Louie on Söder. The same dish at least once a week (most recently last night); feta cheese and olive salad with bulgur.

World ends tomorrow. What would you like for your last meal?

A spaghetti dish I had on a Caralunyan beach. I don't want to say where, it's a sacred place. The trailerish restaurant is open during summer only, and I think it's run by a family. When I was younger, they had a spaghetti dish with a salmon sauce that was unbelievable. So if the world is ending... might as well die of spaghetti OD.

Photo by Kalle Thyselius

This business of actually calling my friends' friends and making dates is really good for me.  I got and accepted an invitation to the birthday party of a lovely lady named Malin.  I was a little worried about feeling awkward going to a party by myself.

But Malin and her Finnish boyfriend Tomas were top notch hosts, and their friends were as gracious as they are.  The crowd reminded me of Northern California -- fewer Stockholm sailor stripes, more sleeve tattoos, heavy gauge piercings, and blunt cut bangs.  The table by the entrance had a Peter Beste photo book of Norwegian black metal bands.

I was totally civilized for the first three hours -- drinking wine spritzers, eating tiny canapes of chanterelle cream on croutons, button-sized Welsh rarebit, lox and cream cheese, and Finnish liverwurst with cornichons, all while discussing content management systems and iPhone apps with a developer.

But at some point, I broke out my party Swedish (at least, I think I did). I probably repeated myself a lot, as I am wont to do after knocking a few back.  And I even sang along to the Swedish födelsdag (birthday) song, which I don't actually know.
 


Towards the end of the evening, Tomas poured me some Minttu.  Minttu is a Finnish clear liquor, probably a kind of peppermint schnapps.  It tastes like a liquid Breath Saver.  I may have drained my glass in two gulps.  I may have invited myself over to someone else's party in two weeks.  I may have put my sunglasses on.    

I woke up at 6:45am today with cotton mouth.  I was surprised to discover that I had left myself a pitcher of water and a glass on the side table (how thoughtful of me!).  I had also managed to take off my clothes before getting in bed, except for my ring, which was squeezing the life out of my swollen finger.  I found my door knocker earrings under my pillow. 

Besides having a kick ass time at the party, it was also a productive night, because I dreamt up a Drunk Guard iPhone app like the Google mail goggles:

If your typing is getting atrocious, or if at any time you type in the phrases "fucked up" or "crunk" or "I love you so much" or "why did we break up", the Drunk Guard pops up and asks you to do some dexterity tests.  If you fail, Drunk Guard gets activated automatically.  It prevents tweets, e-mails, chats, status updates on Facebook, as well as SMS, MMS and calls to certain pre-specified numbers.

It also has one big button for calling the taxi number of your choice, which will use GPS to scout your location and trigger an automated voice recording to the taxi operator.  Message says: "Hi, this is the iPhone Drunk Guard for Glenda Sleuthipakarom.  She needs to be picked up at 10 Main Street.  She lives at 1432 Skid Row."  And then if the iPhone could somehow pay for the cab ride automatically, that would be awesome, too.

Oh, and if you try and use any of the forbidden functions like Twitter and Facebook, you get a set of rotating messages that could include:

Drink a glass of water
Take your contacts out
Do you have your keys and wallet?
Wait to see if you still feel like calling tomorrow.

Doesn't that sound awesome?  Show me the venture capital!

Um, also, apologies to anyone whose personal space I invaded last night, online and offline.

From this experience, I have surmised three things:

1. No tweeting after drinking.
2. Be careful with the Minttu.
3. Finland is going to be awesome.

The crocuses have sprung!  Crocuses are not like groundhogs.  They do not bullshit you.  Spring is here!

 

They all told me it would happen, that spring would arrive and Stockholmers would bloom with it.  And I thought, yeah, okay, but really?

When I went out to run some errands in the morning, I felt the shift.  It was as though someone had lifted the lid off of the city.  All of a sudden, the city felt so much brighter, aired out.  I started noticing things I hadn't really noticed before.  Like hey, all the buildings around here are the color of Lauren Davis's bridesmaid dresses.

 

And the filigree of the bare-branched trees on the canal matches the filigree of the melting ice.  So pretty against the sky's oil paint blue.
.
 

My neighborhood, Vasastan, is full of what are called "småbarnfamilj", or little children families.  They were out in full force on Saturday.  It was a little insane.  I mean, I didn't realize there were that many people in my neighborhood.  Where have they been hiding?  They were straight up loitering everywhere.  On the sidewalks, in the streets, on park benches.



Every cafe had become an outdoor cafe overnight.  I sat with some friends in front of Ritorno on Odengatan, drinking bottomless cups of brewed coffee and soaking in the northern sun.



There's still a giant pile of dirty snow in Vasaparken.  The trees are just barely budding up.  Still, I saw lots of folks eating ice cream.  Ice cream!



And am I blooming?  Mm, not yet.  We're back to April showers today.  But maybe my lack of enthusiasm has more to do with being hungover.  More on that later.

All the Swedes know, but maybe you don't -- the only place to buy alcohol in Sweden, including beer,* is at a System Bolaget.  The government has a monopoly on the sale of alcohol here, which means that you can only buy alcohol from one of their shops.  Legal drinking age is, I believe, 18, but legal buying age is 20. 

So say I'm interested in getting Pimm's Winter Cup (which I am) -- if the government hasn't decided to import it, I can't get it anywhere in all of Sweden.  If it's not in the catalog, you can't get it.  Maybe you can get it from a restaurant, but you can't buy it for personal consumption.



Bottles are all kept behind the counter, except for locked-up display cases where you can read little write-ups and see prices for everything there.  Different System Bolagets have different selections and specialties, but you can special order anything in the catalog and have it sent to your local.

The nice thing is that the people behind the counter have good recommendations.  But they all have to wear these drab khaki long-sleeved polos for uniforms, so it feels like you're taking wine recommendations from your UPS guy.

Remember when you couldn't buy bottles of wine in New York on Sundays?  Here, System Bolaget stores are open on weekdays from 10am-6pm (that's right, before you usually get off work), and Saturdays from 10am-3pm.  Closed Sundays.

That means on Saturdays at 2:30pm, every System Bolaget is like a block party.  All the wastoids in the neighborhood can be found there, stocking up for the week.

All this finger-wagging is a buzz kill.  I know the idea is that people will cause less trouble on the weekends, but all alkies know that where there's a will, there's a way.
 


I have decided to just have my own personal System Bolaget at home.  That way, if I ever have to go to a dinner party, I've got something to bring.  Being the hoarder I am, however, means that I now have the equivalent of 15 bottles of wine in and around my fridge.  And I almost never drink at home.  And, um, I've only been to three dinner parties since I got here.  But hey, I believe that if you buy the dress, the invitation to the ball will come.

P.S. This post took me 1 1/2 hours to get up because mobile dial-up keeps kicking me out.  I really hope broadband arrives on Monday.  It better come.  Seriously losing my mind.  WTF, Tele 2?

---
*UPDATE: My friend Anna-Kari tells me that beer at System Bolaget is Class III beer, which is about 5% alcohol.  Class II beer, which is 3.5% (about the same as your average American beer), can be purchased at the grocery store.  Class I beer, up to 2.2% according to this site, is technically considered non-alcoholic.

"Amerikansk Dressing" -- basically ketchup and mayo in a tube

Every writer is a student of their language.  It's natural to learn a bit about Swedish culture by looking at their language structure.  But being in Sweden has also given me a different perspective on English, and what it says about us. 

One of my tasks at work is to take English text written by Swedish speakers and to massage it so it sounds natural to an English speaker's ear.  What I've found is that Swedish tends to rely on nouns and passive verb forms.  I'll often come across laid-back sentences like, "It is indeed true that the trees are affected by the cold weather."  And the way I change them to make them more "natural" is to grab the verb, crank up the volume, and hinge everything on it: "The cold weather brutalizes the trees."

Americans are "doers", and our language reflects that.  Our English is very verb-oriented.  We make verbs out of everything -- whereas a Swede might "have an interview with Tom Cruise", we "interview that crazy Scientologist".  We like verbs so much that we turn everything into a verb -- "Google" the noun becomes "google" the verb; an adjective like "intellectual" becomes "intellectualize"; sometimes we even turn nouns into verbs, and turn the verbs back into nouns, like "institution" into "institutionalize" into "institutionalization."

It's interesting to know that about your writing; it's not just how you say something, but how your culture shapes the language you use -- the terroir of tongues.  What does it mean to be a good writer?  How much of it is a personal expression, and how much of it is distilling cultural group behavior into strings of words? 

Right now, I feel like an outsider in two ways -- obviously, I'm a stranger here.  I can't understand the radio or local TV programs, I don't know who their celebrities and politicians are, and I can't read the daily newspaper.  Things that are big here -- the Eurovision song contest, Princess Victoria's engagement to her personal trainer -- wouldn't even be blips in the American zeitgeist.  At the same time, I'm an outsider to my own culture back home.  I have no idea who's on American Idol, or if it's still going on; much to my dismay, Hulu refuses to let me watch 30 Rock because I've crossed borders; mobile dial-up has made reading the NYTimes nearly impossible from home.   

The respite from the noise of all pop ephemera is nice in a way, because, let's be honest, it's all pretty meaningless.  I'm not knocking media as a way for people to relate to each other.  But since I can't rely on it, I've got to find other common ground. What kind of human connection do we have outside of media and entertainment? 

I keep inviting myself over to people's houses to cook dinner for them.  How else can I connect?  Weather?  Shared experience?  Like what?  Hm, didn't George Saunders warn us about this kind of thing?

Back by popular demand (or at least the demand of one commenter), You Are What You Eat, Stockholm edition!  But don't pressure me.  I don't know how long I'll be able to keep this up as my list of contacts here is rather short.

Name: Niklas Sessler

Occupation: Corporate Editor at Bonnier AB

Neighborhood: Vasastan

Relationship status: Married

What did you eat today?

Caesar salad

What do you never eat?

Cucumber [Really?  But there's cucumber in everything here. --Ed.]

Complete this sentence: In my refrigerator, you can always find:

Sweet chili sauce

What is your favorite kitchen item?

Citrus press

Where do you eat out most frequently?

Lunch at Kungshallen

World ends tomorrow. What would you like for your last meal?

Tom kha gai soup

Last Tuesday, David Byrne was in town with my buddies Mauro, Paul, Graham, and a giant crew of 26 for his Everything that Happens Will Happen Today tour.  (The show was fab, and if you have a chance to see it, you must go and you must dance.)  I took a bunch of them to Rosendals Trädgård, which is like Rivendell plus locavore porn.  They use mostly organic ingredients, offer a crazy fika spread with cookies and pastries, and serve it up in two converted greenhouses with long benches and tables.  It's right in the middle of Djurgården, which is a big park/zoo/circus/island in the eastern part of Stockholm.  And behind the cafe, there's an enclosement with wolves.  It's totally surreal.

Roasted apples with cloudberries, beet soup with cumin and creme fraiche, chickpea salad with cabbage, veal with dill, and a whole spread of really civilized food, all for 125 SEK (about $15).  And the perfect, perfect bread!  I want to live there.  I can't wait to see the gardens in bloom.  I think I'll have more to say about it when spring pushes all the plants into action. 

The butik next store sells totally irresistible nosh, too.  David picked up some crazy delicious carrot marmelade with Persian spices for the bus, Mauro got some of their baguettes, and I got some fig marmelade with saffron for the cheese party I'll have whenever I make friends.

Speaking of which, it was so great to see some familiar faces.  I've known Mauro for many years now, from our days in bands together.  I haven't seen him in a year, but it was wonderful to jump right in, and not have to think about things like personal space, humor translation, manners, etc.  And the show was such a crowd-pleaser -- I love that kind of full sensory celebration, pleasure for pleasure's sake.  That's very American, isn't it? 

The loneliness is creeping in.  I expected that to happen, but that doesn't make it any easier.  This week, I finally reached out to the friends of friends I've been meaning to get in touch with.  I'm forcing myself to go out much more than I would at home, saying yes to every invitation.  So I'm signing off to go out, but I'll try to write again soon.  I should be getting broadband at the beginning of next week THANK GOD, and reporting will resume in full (with less crybabying, hopefully). 

One of the exciting things about moving to a different country is finding all new and creative ways to feel bad about yourself. 

My new favorite is going into Weekday, the Stockholm store that carries the Cheap Monday line of jeans which Swedish legs look amazing in.  Okay, so here's how you do it -- go in and pick a style, doesn't matter which.  (The labels range from "narrow" to "tight" to "skinny".)  Pick up the largest pair you can find and take them to the saloon door style dressing room.  Try and stick your rice paddy calf into a leg opening the size of your esophagus.  Thrash around the little room trying to strip the jeans off.  Then salve your ego by buying one of those shapeless, oversized, monochrome Swedish tunics so that no one has to see your figure ever again.  Bonus: you'll remind yourself of this moment every time your virtuous fiskgryta (fish soup) arrives with an infernal ice cream scoop of aioli.  Tjohoo! 

Clear your mind.  I want to paint you a picture.

You're just a 15 minute city bus ride from Stockholm's center.  The double wagon bus weaves along the water, passing frozen waterways covered in ice and snow.  Occasionally, the flat white expanse between the banks is cleaved by footprints, double dotted lines where a brave soul has walked on water.

Out at the Nacka nature reserve, you are surrounded by 180 degrees of bright, blinding snow on ice on lake.  Across the frozen water, the evergreens stand stark and silent against the white.  To your left, a family bundled up in hats and Gore-tex steps confidently onto the ice as a man hand drills a hole for fishing.  In the distance, around the lake's edge, you see a pair of joggers in spandex weaving their way through the muddy slush.  There's nothing to hear.

You are standing at the end of a wooden deck, at the edge of a 15-foot hemi-circle cut into the snow-covered lake.  There is a ladder descending into the dark, clear water. 

You are in your bathing suit, because you have just spent the last fifteen minutes in a sauna, baking yourself with half a dozen non-amateur Swedish ladies, two of whom are wearing felt caps and nothing else.  Your skin is red with spidery splotches, steam rising from your pores. 

You grab the sides of the stainless steel ladder.  They are cold, but they are nothing compared to the maddening chill your first foot feels when the frigid lake swallows it.  You drop into the darkness, wet your face, and jump out, shocked and pulsing.

And then you stand there at the edge of a frozen lake, with wet hair and nothing but your bathing suit.  You feel relaxed, comfortable, invigorated.  Your friend reminds you that this is the first time you've felt the wind against your bare skin in months.  You stay for a minute -- not hot, not cold -- just enjoying the way the breeze licks the icy droplets from your arms.

Hellasgården
Nacka, Stockholm

Finally went out and got properly sloshed last night.  After five glasses of white wine (!), three of which were imbibed at my friend Anna's office (!), I was well soaked.  On my walk of shame, I started hiccuping like mad.  Like full body, high pitched hiccups.  I haven't hiccuped in years. 

As I walked on a deserted street near my apartment, hiccuping, I passed a street punk of the expensive studded black leather jacket and multiple face piercings ilk.

STREET PUNK: [Swedish]

ME: I'm sorry, I don't speak Swedish. [HICCUP!]

STREET PUNK: Do you have a cigarette?

ME: No. [HICCUP!]

STREET PUNK: Are you drunk?

ME: No, but I do have the hiccups. [HICCUP!]

Commenter Rachel asks:
Is it the custom to just leave your bike outside and let it get snowed on all winter?

Yes.  But people also ride after a heavy snow.  Lots of people have either super big city bikes or mountain bikes.  You rarely see road bikes with thin tires.  Clearing all the snow off was no fun, though, and I have no idea how to care for a bike that's been subjected to snow like that.  And the roads are full of rocks, which I guess keep the snow from icing over.

"Mexican" "Pitas". 555!

Of the many things in Swedish culture that I embrace (and there are many -- sandwiches for breakfast, equality, 16 months PAID parental leave per child), perhaps my favorite is the cookie culture.  Lots of people know about fika, the Swedish coffee break, but part of fika is enjoying your strong cup of coffee with kakor, or cookies.



This book's title, Sju sorters kakor, means "Seven Kinds of Cookies", and it's my co-worker's wife's favorite cookbook.  Back in the day, if you had someone over for fika, it was bad form to have less than seven cookies for your guest to choose from.  The cookbook is fab, and I plan to pick one up before I leave.  Apparently, it's very popular and old school -- like The Joy of Cooking for kakor.

You may have heard of pepparkakor, the spicy, thin gingery cookies, sometimes shot through with slivers of almond.  There  are also drömkakor, or dream cookies, which are pale, airy vanilla cookies with crinkly, brittle tops.  I still have to try mazarin, the almond paste-filled tartlet cookies filled in with smooth, white icing.  There's much to explore. 

It seems to me that the Swedes like their cookies crunchy -- I don't think chewy oatmeal would fly here.  It makes  sense in the context of the fika.  What's nicer than a crunchy, sweet bite washed down with strong coffee when it's cold?  Now if only I could get used to drinking coffee in the afternoon and still sleep at night.

A useful Swedish word to use in this context is smulig -- smulor is the word for "crumbs", and smulig is the adjective form.  So after stuffing my face with sju sorters kakor at Mormor's house, I was totes smulig. My co-worker Linnéa is teaching me all the fun language flotsam.

LINNÉA: [After we've eaten breakfast sandwiches] Smulor, it's like this, crumbs.

ME: Ah, yes.

LINNÉA: And smulig, you say, "Jag är smulig." [I am smulig.]

ME: Oh yeah, like crumby.

LINNÉA: Yeah, crumby. [She writes down "smulig = crummy" on a Post-it for me.]

ME: Oh, no, not like crummy. Like full of crumbs. Crummy is something different. But maybe it isn't?

LINNÉA:  Oh yeah, but you know what I mean.
 

From left: Italian cantuccino (which I see everywhere here), singoalla, pepparkaka

In an effort to assimilate and truly understand the people of this land, I have stocked my larder with three kinds of cookies.  My new favorite is the little bullseye one, called Singoalla.  It's like a linzer cookie and a Vienna finger rolled into one.  Which is just what I had hoped "Mördegskex, creme med vaniljsmak och hallonfyllning" meant.  I have been regularly eating a second dinner of cookies as I wait for the internets to load.  If I come back fat, I'll blame the mobile dial-up.

The weather for the week.

When I saw this, I decided I had to save my baby bike from the elements.  So this morning, instead of doing yoga, I decided to try to shove the bike into the elevator again. I had one of those post-sleep eureka moments Malcolm Gladwell talks about. "I know, I'll put the bike in UPSIDE DOWN! Then the handlebars will fit no problem. A good night's rest has made me a GENIUS!"

Except you know how sometimes those AM thoughts are more morning wood than morning revelation? Well, the bike did not fit because -- GOOD MORNING! -- the laws of geometry did not magically change overnight.

I sucked it up and carried it up the five flights of stairs. But at least I got my exercise in for the day.

Lunch at Bonnierskonsthall: this was probably the heaviest meal I've had here to date -- Wallenbergare, a giant veal* patty in a pool of mashed potatoes, what I hope was olive oil, a smattering of peas and a bowl of lingonberry jam, which is like a runny cranberry sauce.  I like how everything is round.  The veal wasn't very spiced -- it was just kind of mildly seasoned and fried.  Yums and snoozes.

The cafe also had slice-your-own crusty bread with färskost, the snowy, fresh cream cheese you find next to the butter at a lot of places.  Sometimes the färskost is flavored with chives.  This one had flecks of parsley in it.  I would like to slather everything in färskost.

The Wallenbergare is named after one of the richest families in Sweden, the Wallenbergs.  It's quite a popular dish. I don't know why it's named after them.  Maybe they made their fortune serving Wallenbergare to their competitors and putting them all into a food coma.

*I know veal is cow.  Sometimes you just want to try the thing you've never tried, even if it means breaking the rules to do it.

I got a bicycle!  I'd been searching on blocket.se for about 7 weeks (yes, before I got here!), looking in bicycle shops, putting all kinds of bicycle websites through Google translate.  

But yesterday, I finally was like, fuck it, I'm going to the used bicycle shop.  If I leave work at 5, I can get there by 5:15 and have 45 minutes to shop before it closes.  Because it's not open on the weekends.  Or before 9 am.  Or after 6pm.  (For those of you who wish you were here, don't forget that New York is a glorious, glorious place where you can get things done both after work AND on the weekends.)

Anyway, I got to the shop and asked for a light bike.  Swedish city bikes tend to be quite heavy, with tons of accessories (rack, basket, lock, skirt guard, fenders, big ass lights) and big frames.  I wanted something a little lighter, at least as light as my hybrid.  At first we talked mountain bikes, but I tried one and realized it probably wasn't ideal with my nice work dresses.

Then we looked at some women's frames.  The first one I tried was a really speedy little Danish number.  It was white, a little beat up, with two top tubes in a V shape and really responsive steering. The shop owner told me the handlebars were Danish-style.  They weren't T-shaped handlebars, not bullhorns, but something kind of in-between; a slightly narrow grip on an angle with an upright seating position.  If my legs were just two inches longer, I would have gotten it.  (I am jealous of all the long legs here.)

The second bike I tried was an old green Crescent, which is a very common brand here.  It was pretty light, a very steady ride with a step-through frame, but there were no gears -- not ideal in this hilly city.  

And the last one I basically rode for 30 seconds.  It was 5:46 at this point and I was like, fuck it, this is it.  Am I going to find something better for a better price?  Probably not.  And I don't want to be running around town for the next three weeks as the weather gets better and prices go up in all the shops.  This feels pretty good, I think; it's comfy and it's a good price.  SOLD!

So here's what it looks like:



It's a Puch Elit, made in Austria.  I can't find much info on it.  Does anyone know from Puch bikes?

When I got home, I tried to get it in the elevator, but the damn sit-up-and-beg handlebars wouldn't clear the elevator gate. 

<Not complaining, totally lucky to have such a cool job, etc. etc.>

Most of the time, I am still like, wow, two bunches of ranunculus for $6, look at that woman's cool coat and tiny waist, the ice on the canal is melting, pretty. But yesterday, I was like, where do they keep the paper towels in this country, and I miss my friends and why is it still cold here?  But I did see a bird outside my window on a tree I had heretofore not noticed.  Spring, I eagerly await you.

I've solved the problem of making this place homey by moving everything into the kitchen.  I like small spaces, so this is perfect for me.  I moved the second kitchen table chair out by the entrance so I have something to sit on when I put my shoes on, and I get a little more clearance around the refrigerator.  I set my ranunculus on the table next to the butter. Everything is within reach.  It's kind of sad bachelorette style, but it works.

Some homey things I brought which me which I almost didn't bring for lack of space but which I'm so glad I did:

• My fuzzy slippers
• The All-Clad (curry, soup, eggs, stews, seared fish -- all good in the All-Clad)
• My two fave knives
• My pretty apron
  

What I wish I had brought:

• More sweats
• A warm and comfy robe
• A travel clock

Alright, I'm going out to get a new lightbulb and a pint of ice cream, sad bachelorette style.  The word for ice cream here is glass, not to be confused with glas, which is the word for glass.

</Not complaining>

So I've only got one working burner. Major bummer, as you can imagine.  I'm hoping the handyman will come and fix it, but I don't know if I can count on that happening.

But I'm up for the challenge.  What can I cook with one working electric burner, an oven that's a little larger than a toaster oven, a microwave, and my newly purchased rice cooker?

I think lots, actually.  As my aunt said, sometimes you can only handle one thing at a time, anyway.  (En sak i taget, as they say here -- just learned that one today.)

Unless specified, the dishes in the one burner series are meant for one person.  I'm not sure it would be comfortable to have dinner in my apartment with someone else.  You know, unless I were in succubus mode.

 

Here's my first foray -- green curry salmon over kanom jeen.  We always eat green curry over kanom jeen, a type of soft white noodle which is called somen in Japanese.  It's a one-burner dish because you cook the kanom jeen in advance and eat it room temp, ladling the curry on top.

The kanom jeen is twirled into little half-serving bundles; that way, the noodles can stick together in a pleasant, untangled way.

Tomorrow, all I have to do is sear off another piece of fish and heat up the curry.  Dinner in 5 minutes with all the food groups covered.  Way easier and tastier than it has a right to be.

Salmon and Green Curry over Kanom Jeen



For the kanom jeen:
1.  Cook kanom jeen (somen) according to directions.
2. Pour off most of the hot water.  Add lots of cold water to the pot.  Grab two fingers full of kanom jeen.  Wrap the loose ends around your two fingers to form a little skep.  Place onto a plate lined with paper towels.  cover each layer of skeps with wet paper towel.  Set aside until the curry is ready.

For the curry and salmon:
1.  Salt and pepper the salmon.  Sear salmon on all sides in a hot pan with a little oil.  (I used some coconut oil which Megan left in the pantry -- is there a more delicious smell than melting coconut oil?  Nej.)  Pour off the drippings and remove salmon skin if desired.
2.  Add a few tbsp. of coconut cream to the hot pan and fry 1-3 tbsp. of green curry paste until the curry paste bubbles up and incorporates the coconut milk.  Add one cup of coconut milk and 4 quartered Thai eggplant.  (You can substitute purple eggplant here or add sliced bamboo shoots, your choice.)  Add kaffir lime leaves if you have some.  Douse with a 3-second squirt of fish sauce (about 1 tbsp.?).  Simmer about 10 minutes.  
3.  Add the salmon back into the curry along with two small cut-up broccoli crowns.  Add Thai basil leaves if you have some.  Cover and simmer til salmon and broccoli are cooked through.
4.  To serve, set two skeps of kanom jeen into a bowl.  Place salmon on the kanom jeen and ladle veggies and curry on top.  Makes a Sunday night serving and a Monday leftover serving.

---

Incidentally, I went over to my friend Niklas's house to cook Thai food for him and his family this weekend.  (MAE: Huh?  How did you get invited over to someone's house to cook already? ME: Um, I invited myself over.  I need friends!)  I made four dishes, one which was excellent, two that were okay, and one that was kind of a fail.  When cooking Thai food, sometimes I forget that you really have to over-season it.  Thai food is meant to be eaten with a lot of plain rice or noodles.  If you taste it at the stove and it tastes fine, you need to add more seasoning.  Otherwise, the flavor gets lost on the starch.

UPDATE: Dude, the super brought me a whole new burner/oven combo!  I can now have hot pasta AND hot sauce!  What luxury. 

After two weeks of living like a bag lady, I've finally moved into the apartment I'll be staying in.  It's definitely modest, but considerably bigger than the hotel apartment.  Actually, it has more storage space than I'm used to in my wee Brooklyn bedroom.  The few clothes I brought are free to really stretch their limbs in the two closets and the big IKEA chest of drawers.

So help a sister out -- what should I do to make the place feel more like home while I'm here?  I've still got some unpacking and cleaning to do this weekend, but I also want to get some things to help brighten up the place.  (On the cheap, of course -- I am not planning on buying any side tables while I'm here.)

Got any suggestions?  Leave a comment here or on my Flickr page.

 

This has happened to me a couple of times now:



Ooh, that place looks pretty cute.

 

Hm, lots of people in there.  I wonder what this cafe is called.  Maybe I should eat there for dinner.



Psyche!  It's just McDonald's, sucka!

Daglivs is one of the biggest grocery stores in Stockholm.  Here's their full selection of peanut butter:

 

And here's just part of their selection of yogurt:


I bought rhubarb vanilla, but they've also got lingonberry apple, cloudberry, lychee, mangosteen, carrot orange, blood orange, and more flavors than I will have time to try while I'm here. They come with sugar, without sugar, lactose-free, Turkish, Greek, super high fat, almost no fat, light, drinkable, spoonable...

Today's snow was crunchy and opaque, like the rock sugar on a kardemumma bulle.

This is apparently as Swedish as it gets.  Snus is sort of like chewing tobacco, except you don't chew it, and you don't need to spit it out.  You stick a packet under your top lip and let it sit there. 

A: You could leave it in there all day, but it gets a little soggy.  I go through half to a full canister a day. 

ME: Does it give you a buzz?  Is it like a stimulant?

A: Well, for you it might be.  But for me, it doesn't do anything.  It's like coffee.  I drink so much that it doesn't do anything to me anymore.

If you think about it, the major brands of dipping tobacco are Skoal and Copenhagen.  It never occurred to me that there might be a tobacco product that didn't originate from cowboy-tended Virginia fields. 

Snus is actually illegal in the EU, which is funny to me considering how distrusting Swedes are of self-medication.  The majority of snus aficionados are in Sweden.  Snus is also popular in Norway and parts of Finland.

No offense to my friend A, but the appeal of sucking on a packet of soggy tobacco escapes me.  And I'm not about to try and figure it out.  I'm happy to say that Stockholm is, in general, a smoke-free town -- no smoking in bars or restaurants. 

I got to go to the test kitchen at the Allt Om Mat (All About Food) headquarters today on Sveavägen.  Megan wrote a piece for them which will come out at some point during the year.

The recipes were Megan's, and the food was excellent. Everyone came and sat down for lunch at noon, family-style, with real plates and silverware.  Can you imagine?  So civilized!

You'll have to wait til the issue comes out to hear the whole menu, but the dish that got the most eyes-closed ecstasy face was this empanada.  Beef stewed for hours in rum, fruit, sugar and spices.  Yes, I had one, and yes, it was worth it. 

 

If you pester her from her site, maybe Megan will slip you the recipe.

--

I'd better get to bed, though.  I seem to be coming down with something.  I've been going hard since I got here.  I need to have a quiet weekend. 

Did you know that it's hard to get some of the more effective over-the-counter drugs here? Apparently, they're frowned upon.  My Swedish co-worker says that when she goes to England, she stocks up on cold medication, because what they have in Sweden just doesn't cut it.  They don't mix meds. (Excedrin, for example, is aspirin + caffeine.  Nyquil = acetominophen + dextromethorphan + doxylamine succinate. Sudafed = don't even think about it.)  And all of the pharmacies are owned by the state, who have a total monopoly and get to charge an arm and a leg for these not-very-strong meds.  (The monopoly, however, may be coming to an end soon.)

I took a Berocca, but I don't think it did anything.  I'm not much of a pill taker, but I have to admit that I wish I had some Nyquil right now. 

Today was a big day for Swedes.  First of all, the Crown Princess of Sweden got engaged!  My co-workers were abuzz with the news and very happy for her.  After all, she's 33 years old and has yet to produce an heir.  I was told that her husband becomes a Prince, not the King, and he has to walk one step behind her. 

Secondly, it's Fat Tuesday (Fettisdagen), also known as the official semla day!  Semlor were traditionally made in celebration of Fat Tuesday, but apparently, people are so obsessed with them here that they start making them around Christmas time. And they keep on making them for a while after Fat Tuesday. 

Are you sick of semlor (plural of semla) yet?  The Swedes aren't.  5,000,000 semlor will be eaten today.  That's like 2/3 of Sweden's population.  And when in Rome...

 

A semla is made with a pretty plain, soft yeast roll, very lightly sweetened and speckled with coarsely ground cardamom.  (Seems important not to grind your cardamom too finely.)  Normal semla size is about the same as an egg sandwich roll.  You can also find much more manageable minis, about the size of a Valencia orange.

The top of the roll gets carved out in the shape of a triangle, the way you might for a stuffed baked potato.  The cavity is filled with some sweet, sticky almond paste and a healthy piped beehive swirl of barely sweetened chantilly cream.  The top of the bun caps the cream and the whole thing gets dusted lightly with powdered sugar.

I had my first semla some time last week at work.  It was a bit stale, but I could sort of see the point.  A little gooey, a lot creamy, I really dug the sweetness level. 

I had to try a fresh one, of course, so I went to Vete-katten on the way to Kalle's house and picked up half a dozen for the dinner party.  Kalle and I each had a mini with a hot cup of milky tea. This one was better, the bun sturdy but very tender.  It disappeared after five quick bites.

I had a third one today, and now I'm starting to get the obsession.  They're here for a limited period of time.  The flavor is quite subtle, pale and ephemeral next to a strong cup of Swedish coffee.  And by the time you've nearly figured out how you feel about it, POOF!  You've eaten the whole thing, and all you have left to show for it is a little powdered sugar on your cheek. 

Unless, of course, you go out and get another before Fat Tuesday's over.  And you eat one that someone's left in the kitchen at work.  Or you go and buy half a dozen from Vete-katten before a dinner party for four. 

It's fun to hear Swedes talk about semlor:

VIVECA: I don't like them.  I prefer cardamom buns.  Some older people like to serve them in a bowl of hot milk.  [VIVECA: makes a face.]

---

CO-WORKER: You know, a king died from eating too many semlor.

OTHER CO-WORKER: Yes, I guess there are worse ways to go.

---

NIKLAS:  Vete-katten is the best.  They won the competition again this year.

---

KALLE: Vete-katten is the best.  That's where my mother buys semlor.  You know, some people like to eat them in a bowl with hot milk.  [KALLE makes a face.]

Later that evening:

OSCAR: OHHHHH, who brought the semlor?!  You got any milk? 

JANES: [Laughing] Are you serious?  You eat them in milk?!

OSCAR: I wouldn't think of eating a semla dry! 

[KALLE laughs hysterically]

OSCAR: What?!  One in three people eats them that way!

Even later that evening, KALLE and OSCAR set their semlor in bowls of hot milk, spooning the milky dough into their mouths:

OSCAR: [Swedish] ---

KALLE:   He says you have to eat it fast, otherwise it gets soaked.

OSCAR: [Joking in Swedish] ---

JANES: [Laughing]  Now he's saying it's soft and warm, the same temperature as your mouth.

---

I tried to see if anyone was serving semlor in New York.  Sorry, couldn't find anything, but IKEA Singapore is selling semlor as "The King Killer"!  They're available there from Feb to April.  Dude, somebody in IKEA U.S.A. has got to get that shit together.

For you curious cooks, here's an AllRecipes recipe for semlor that looks pretty good.

Oof, sorry for the absence.  I went to work on Saturday and left my power cord in the office.  Believe me, the lack of internet hurt me more than it hurt you.

Last night, I hung out with La Doug's cousin Kalle and his friends in Gröndal, which is kind of like a quieter Astoria -- just outside the city center, lots of families and nice houses.  The only people who go there are residents, and the area is well-served by a bus that picks up directly from the train station.  His apartment is on this peninsula just south of the city.  It's total winter wonderland right now. 

As Kalle's friend spun Sunday evening records on the decks in the living room, we had a lovely domestic evening snacking on blue cheese and homemade pineapple chutney on fancy knäckebröd. The occasional razor thin ship would pass silently, carving a swath through the icy white bay outside his window.  The snow fell all evening, undisturbed by wind, leaving five-inch tufts on the balcony, the naked trees, and the eaves.

Tonight, I had dinner with my co-workers at the newly opened Melander's Fisk in Vasastan.  The place had a surprisingly artful mix of high Stockholm design and Swedish countryside charm.    




We shared a plate of sill och strömming, the famed Swedish pickled herring.  The herring was sweet and boozy -- our plate had an oily tomato herring, a traditional sweet herring with minced onions, a curried herring, and a creamy vodka and garlic herring.  The little tiles of fish came with a triangle of västerbotten cheese.  (The Swedes love strong cheese with their fish.)  I liked the herring.  I mean, I can't say I'll be ordering it all the time, but it was silky soft and not strongly fishy.  Curried herring always tastes a little musty to me, like they've mixed a little photo album dust in with the turmeric.  Ultimately, it's the sweetness that weirds me out.  But it's def. not unpleasant.

For the main, I had a really excellent seafood stew.  The waitress brought out a huge, shallow bowl with some poached fish, those very Swedish baby red shrimp and mussels.  Then she came back and ladled a divinely spicy, gently sweet tomato-based stew over the whole thing.  So many vibrant colors and flavors -- that umami tomato rounded out by sweet, crunchy carrot, fennel, tarragon, and a little dill, all sexed up with a little capsaicin.  Came with a side of aioli and little disc croutons.  It's hard to order anything but fish -- the Swedes do seafood so well.  I'm sure I'll get tired of it, but for now it's super novel and tasty.   

No snaps with our sill, though -- gotta be ready to work tomorrow.  We're about to launch the new site, and I'm going to need all brain cells on deck.  Actually, tomorrow is Fat Tuesday, the official semla day.  It will be my third semla of the week (oink oink).  More on semla tomorrow.

So before I came, I thought I'd basically be like a stubby brown meatball on a plate of pale spaghetti.  But plenty of American friends were like, "No way!  You are going to go to Stockholm and you are going to find yourself a husband -- some tall, blond guy named Sven!"  The funny thing is, people also told my predecessor Megan that she'd be seduced by a Sven.

Now that I'm here, all the Swedes tell me that the only guys who are named Sven are 90 year-olds.  So I guess this whole Sven thing would be like a Swede going over to the States, with his friends telling him, "You are going to the States and you are going to meet some hot American named Gertrude."

Anyway, I shouldn't have worried about being a meatball.  Yes, people here are gorgeous, but people in New York are gorgeous, too.  I don't feel any more intimidated by the beauty on the street than I do in NYC.  And people, especially my new co-workers, have been so genuine and friendly.  Soooooooo nice.  I watched two different front desk people at the hotel deal with very demanding guests with serious grace. 

And in case you were wondering, everyone speaks impeccable English, and they love to practice it with native English speakers.  It will probably be hard for me to learn Swedish, actually.  I'm certainly going to try, though. 

At dinner tonight, my coworker told me that the best way to learn Swedish is to take a Swedish boyfriend.  This is, like, the third time I've been given this advice in the last month.  I'd like to think that all this talk will make it happen, but I ain't holding my breath for old man Sven.

*They work!  Oh marvel of marvels.



Here's classic Kalles Kaviar, a tomato potato fish roe mixture that's supposedly good squeezed onto a boiled egg.  I will try it before I go.  I learned to love Marmite, so why not this?  I bet it's total umami.



Here's some salami cheese and crab cheese (that sounds dirty) in a tube.  I'm not sure what "ren" is.  But it comes with cheese.


These are a bunch of different kinds of cheese tubes, including mozzarella and olive cheese in a tube.  Very strange and exotic.