So the other day on his blog, Jon wrote about the visit to our friend Roland’s summer stuga (click here to catch up), and asked me to talk about the amazing dinner we had. Our hosts Roland and Kerstin served us a traditional Swedish meal with multiple courses, complete with the customary drink that accompanies each course. We started with matjesill (see above), served with boiled potatoes, sour cream, and chives. Sill is the Swedish word for herring, and this is a specially-seasoned type of herring typically served for Midsummer parties. I was surprised that the herring is cold and the potatoes are hot, but the combination is entirely delicious. Jon and I had seconds and then thirds. Really.
To be totally honest, I hadn’t cared for the fish served at breakfast which I thought had been herring, so I was worried that this would be awful. Apparently the Swedes thought we’d hate it, too. Turns out the breakfast was anchovies, sort of like the boquerones (fried anchovies) we’d had in Spain. There are about 25 thousand bones in one of those bad boys, and they were so disgusting to chew. Crunchy and prickly on my tongue. But anyway, this was the good fish, and it came with a shot of flavored vodka that Roland had made. He’d infused plain vodka with special herbs and spices and then let it steep for a week in preparation for our traditional meal, even giving Sara a glass. It tasted like dirt engulfed in flames.
Next came a glass of beer while Roland grilled the pork and we made room on the table for round two. They’d told me that the pork came from the local farmer we’d driven by that afternoon. Since I’m mostly vegetarian, I wasn’t too interested in dinner’s back story, so I might have had two glasses of beer. When the pork was ready they passed around huge bowls of green salad and a potato salad made with apples that Jon said reminded him of his childhood. Roland ducked back to the grill at least one more time to refill the serving platter, and we drank wine and ate lots of potato salad. You know, you start to feel kind of full after eating about 10 potatoes.
Nobody had said Uncle yet, so again we cleared and re-set the table for round three: dessert. Kerstin brought out a cake covered in whipped cream and fresh raspberries that Roland had picked early that morning. We had strong Swedish coffee and Roland poured cordials, asking me if I wanted the kind for the men (Remy Martin) or the one for the women (not Remy Martin). When I said men, he told me he’d been sure of it. How had he known I grew up on that stuff? You know, Q-R-S-T-U-VSOP. Anyway, Jon wasn’t quite able to refuse the Remy, and when nobody was looking he stealthily poured it into the plant. Just kidding, there wasn’t a plant, but he did pour it into his coffee. When Kerstin and her friend Agnette were in the kitchen,the men snuck me some of the drink for the women, which it turns out was a Swedish version of Robitussin. Not good.
We had a wonderful evening with Roland and his friends, and were honored that they had gone to such lengths to show us a true Swedish good time. We’ve invited them to our (!!) house for dinner this week, and then to our real house for a visit to Florida. It’s been such a pleasure to meet Roland, and we hope to stay in touch with him long after we leave Sweden. If I can have Spanish sister, it’s only fair that the kids get a Swedish grandfather, right?
Interesting, not sure how much I would eat.
ReplyDeleteWhat was the potato salad, never make any with apples.