I bet you say that to all the girls…

Just wanted to share a picture of our amazing Sara at Concordia Language Villages Swedish language camp this summer. Although she can’t phone us during camp, the camp posts pictures online so we can see what the kids are doing while they’re there in Minnesota. Yes, Minnesota! This year she is in a very small group for language lessons, with only 3 other students.  The caption reads Martin och Gustava jobbar tillsammans med sina duktiga elever – Martin and Gustava teach their very good students.  Hmmm. Does this mean that her Swedish skills really are as good as we think they are? We’ll have to wait until she writes to us…um, she gets home…to find out.

No moon over Liseberg

Yesterday we continued our tradition of meeting up with people we haven’t seen in 20 years (remember my Spanish sister and LisafromAfrica?). When Jon was a teenager, his family hosted an exchange student from Norway for a year.  Although Jon’s parents have stayed in touch with the family, Jon and Eirik haven’t maintained their relationship (sound familiar??) until now. Eirik, his wife Janne, and their children Philippa and Sina drove from Oslo to Gothenburg yesterday and we spent the day with them at Liseberg amusement park. You might remember Sara’s wardrobe malfunction during our previous visit to Liseberg – if not, you can check that out here. This time we were much better behaved, and had lots of time to catch up with Eirik and see what he’s been doing since high school. He’s done quite well for himself, with a smart and funny wife, 2 gorgeous girls, a job he loves as Assistant Editor-In-Chief of a newspaper’s online division, and a new house in Oslo 3 minutes away from his parents and in-laws. Not bad. We like to think that his time in Orion with Jon’s family set him up for such success, but I guess his own parents had something to do it with it too. Probably. They must have. We’ve been so lucky to have rekindled these relationships, and are looking forward to spending more time with Eirik and his family in the future.

 

Swedish grandparents

This past weekend we were pleased to have Roland and Kerstin as our guests for dinner at “our” house. I decided to make them a typical meal for our family, although I’m not sure how representative it is of how Americans eat. My sister eats like we do, so I guess it counts! The kitchen in this house is separate from the living room, so I wasn’t really able to chat while everyone tried to keep the crostini away from Kerstin’s dog Max.

Luckily I’d made most of the dinner in advance, and only had to cook the pork while they were here. I made an herb and garlic-stuffed pork tenderloin (well, Jon actually prepared the tenderloins for me that morning using herbs from the garden) that I braised with fresh apples and served with an apple cognac reduction. We have pork tenderloin quite a bit at home, and it was fun that they had served us pork as well, Swedish style, so we could compare. I also made a summer wheat berry salad – a new favorite that I discovered in Sweden and adapted for our tastes – and minted peas. We had cheesecake brownies from my beloved David Lebovitz (his recipe is here) that I changed a bit as well. You can’t get chocolate chips in Sweden, so I left them out (David said it was OK), doubled the brownie part, and added a shot of espresso (I didn’t tell him about the espresso, shhhh). In retrospect, I should have skipped one of the eggs too, since the 4th egg made them a bit too custardy without the addition of the chocolate chips. If you make them the way I did, lose the last egg.

Anyway, we had a wonderful time with the kids’ new Swedish grandparents, and are hopeful that they will take us up on the offer to come visit in Florida.

Roland and Kerstin sing the Swedish song – or try to! – to Sara and Sam.

A 5 year old’s perspective on home exchanging…

Sam wanted to write a guest blog for me, so I sat down and asked him a few questions about home exchanging. Ever try to get a 5 year old to write an essay?

What’s the best part about home exchanging? The house and the car.

What place was your favorite? Holland, because of the chicken pen, because I could walk in it and get the chicken out.

Did you ever get the chicken out? Oh, it just walks out.

Did you ever touch the chicken? Yes!

Was it yucky? No, it wasn’t yucky, it was friendly. The chicken just ran out of its cage whenever I came up to it.

Do you remember some of the famous places we’ve visited?  Um, the car and plane museum.

How about in France? Well, the Eiffel Tower. Oh and that restaurant in the Eiffel Tower, it was in the leg.

Which place had the best weather? Holland and Sweden because they were warm.

Tell me about Norway. Norway was the best place because I could go into the igloo.

The igloo? The one in the circle, the roundabout. I know it doesn’t have a sign. I could fall down in the snow.

Was it always snowing in Norway? Yes, but not always.

What did you do in Norway when it wasn’t snowing? I just hanged around. You know about the net? It was the coolest because I could slide down.

Did you ever take a train? Yes!

Where did you go on the train? To the Olympics.

Do you mean Lillehammer? Uh huh. We went down the hill. In a snow mobile.

You mean a sled? Yes, I had brakes and I fell out a few times but it didn’t hurt me.

Were you scared? Yes.

Do you remember any of the pets you took care of? Jet, the cat, he was fun and playful.

Any others? Mira, the cat. I’m going to sing a song. Cat Scratch, catty cat, cat scratch, cat scratch. Boom!

So you can’t remember too much about Norway anymore? Well we builded a dam, I needed to get some huge rocks. I had an idea but we couldn’t use mine idea. We had to have a bungee cord to hook up on the logs, and then we’d hook it and we would sail out. We would put it on the other side of the dam and we would sail out to that area.

Wow! Where would we go? To the sea. We would have food.

Did anyone visit you during your home exchange? Yes, Roland. And Kerstin. Max the dog. Martin and Tina. Auntie and Allie and Uncle John, and Lisa.

Did anyone visit Sara? Grace.

Did anyone visit us in Holland? Grandma.

Do you like doing home exchanges? Yes.

What’s the best part? The Legos.

Over the river and through the woods…

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?

Morötter Kakan

When LisafromAfrica was here earlier this week, we ate lunch at Cafeva on the adorable, cobblestoned Haga Nygata in Gothenburg. They are one of many small cafes on Haga Nygata that offer a dagens lunch – a few different specials of the day for competitive price, sometimes with a soft drink or coffee. We chose Cafeva because of the interesting choices – feta and spinach quiche, vegetable lasagne, and spicy vegetarian Thai soup are just a few, and the food was excellent. I was determined to try the delicious-smelling carrot cake that was baking (and not ready!) while we were there, so we returned the next day and it was so good that Sara asked for the recipe. To my surprise, they handed her their recipe book and let her copy it down. In Swedish. Here is my version, adapted from theirs. Enjoy! (This recipe yields 2 cakes).

Morötter Kakan, adapted from Cafeva in Gothenburg

For the cakes:

6 eggs 

2½ cups granulated sugar

3 cups flour

1 tbsp baking powder

1 tbsp baking soda

1 tbsp cinnamon

1 tbsp good quality vanilla extract, such as Nielsen Massey

9¾ ounces vegetable oil

3¾ cups grated, peeled carrots

 

For the frosting:

1 package (8 oz.) cream cheese at room temperature

7 tbsp butter, softened

1 cup powdered sugar

1 tbsp good quality vanilla extract, such as Nielsen Massey

 

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
2. Line 2 Bundt pans with parchment or wax paper, and grease the paper (or spray with non-stick spray).
3. In a mixing bowl, cream together the eggs and granulated sugar.
4. Add the dry ingredients and fold them into the egg/sugar mixture. Don’t stir, or the cake will be tough.
5. Add the grated carrot and fold it into the mixture. Don’t stir!
6. Pour batter into the 2 prepared pans and bake for approximately 45 minutes, until the top is set and a tester comes out dry.
7. Meanwhile, in a mixing bowl, whip together cream cheese, butter, powdered sugar, and vanilla until smooth and blended. Note: this works best in an electric mixer on high speed using a whisk attachment
8. Once the cakes are cool, top with frosting.

 

I couldn’t be that old!

Today we drove my friend LisafromAfrica back to the airport. She had been in the UK to complete her PhD (!!) in Public Health and decided she could swing a quick trip to Gothenburg to see me. It’s been 17 years, after all. The last time we saw each other, I was still working at the restaurant where we’d met, and she was in the States visiting her parents.  We’d had dinner with my boyfriend at the time, and she told us how she had decided to stay in Zimbabwe after her year-long volunteer contract had ended because she loved the work and, well, she had met someone. Cut to now, and we’ve done a lot! Between us we have 9 years of graduate school, 2 husbands, 4 children, 2 step children, 3 major career changes, 24 chickens, 2 belly scars, 3 swimming pools, 81 years of life experience, and a hell of a lot of good stories.  We talked as fast as we could, barely stopping to eat, and have vowed not to let another 17 years pass before we see each other again. Yet another perk of home exchanging.

 

Come on baby make it Styrsö good…

While my friend LisafromAfrica was visiting us all the way from Zimbabwe, we took a trip out to the archipelago island of Styrsö. At first glance it seemed that no cars were allowed on the small island, and that the only modes of transport were bikes, mopeds, and golf carts. We saw many people on motorized (!!) versions of my beloved bakfiets, mostly older gents hauling building supplies and the like. The majority of the mopeds were standard issue – people didn’t get too creative with them – but I did find one that cracked me up. Check it out:

I just can’t get into this one. Maybe it’s the motorized aspect, maybe it’s the DIY-ish pallet box for cargo, I don’t know. What do you think: yay or nay?

Sara meets Sara

The other day we went for a walk with my sister and her family and decided to look for the yaks that lived nearby. Well they weren’t in fact yaks (who the hell knows what a yak looks like, anyway?!), but rather Highland cattle that live in a nature preserve a few minutes away from our place. Luckily we ran across a woman tending the cattle who could answer some of our questions, but she didn’t speak any English and Sara became our translator. We leaned that these cattle came from Scotland with the woman’s grandfather, and that there are 2 newborns, 9 weeks and 11 weeks old! The kids loved to watch the woman give them a drink by spraying water in their mouths with a squirt bottle. It was so cool to watch Sara speak Swedish with the woman and then translate for us – very impressive! The best part was that there is even a cow named Sara. I wonder if she is better behaved than my Sara. Hmmm.

 

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Well-a well-a well-a huh…

I love pools and adore the ocean, but I really don’t love swimming. I like to get in the water to cool off, not to swim all around like some kind of crazy person. Now that we’re having regular summer weather here in Sweden – or at least what passes for summer in Scandinavia – we had to get a small inflatable pool for Sam. It has taken 4 days of sitting outside for the water to warm to acceptable levels, even for Sam, and today was the first day that I even considered getting in. A baby pool is right up my alley – not much commitment is required and it lasts until I get bored with it and move on to something more interesting. Usually that’s the day that it sprouts it’s second leak, the day that I consider it tainted and pronounce it ready for the trash. One leak is manageable, unnoticeable even when it’s in the side wall, but two leaks are just too much to handle. Then the pool starts to stress me out and I can’t enjoy it anymore. Who wants to lean against the side of the pool when it could collapse at that very moment? And nobody wants to sit in a baby pool with non-functional side walls, having to sit up straight like a schoolmarm…come on, that’s just ridiculous. So we’re on day 5 of our new Swedish pool and to date it’s been a smashing success, so much so that the kids spent the rest of the afternoon lying down and trying on my sunglasses. Ah, summer.

Ice, Ice, baby…

It seems that the one hot day we’ve had here in Gothenburg was a bit out of the ordinary, and the weather’s been cool to very cool (OK, it was cold, but I like to sound rugged). So when the temps peaked at 16 degrees yesterday, I was ready to go to the beach. Oh, that’s 60 degrees Fahrenheit for those of you playing along at home.  We packed a picnic lunch and headed to our favorite beach in Hovås where there were a few families, but mostly teenagers happy to be done with school and not caring much about anything else. Sam loves the big rocks that remind him of Norway and doesn’t care that there really isn’t much sand to play on. The water would have been great were it not for the whipping wind, but I could lie in a grassy crevice on the rock and be shielded enough for some sunning. The beautiful scenery reminds me a bit of coastal Maine or even Norway, and I am happy just to sit and watch the water flow by.

They’re not all 6 foot tall models? Really?

I had imagined that all the women in Sweden would be blond, 6 feet tall, skinny, and gorgeous. They would all look like Elsa Sylvan (yeah, that’s her in the picture). Well, after spending a day at Liseberg amusement park, I’m no longer so worried about getting into my bathing suit.  You know those carnival games where you try to hit a target and win a huge stuffed animal?   Well in Sweden, you don’t win stuffed animals, you win…get this…enormous candy bars! People were carrying around giant Toblerone bars and Sara’s favorite Kex bars, and I thought it was so weird. These ultra-skinny Swedes surely aren’t going to be eating all this chocolate…are they?

 

image: theworldsbestever.com

How not to ride a Dalahest

On Sunday we took Sam and the girls to Gothenburg’s Liseberg amusement park. It was great that the entrance fee didn’t include the ride pass, so Jon and I only had to pay a few dollars to get in (more money for beer!).  Just kidding. So toward the end of the day, we found this gigantic dalahest that Sara of course wanted to climb. Except she couldn’t get up. At all. After multiple tries. And onlookers were laughing. And pointing. It’s not that tall, so it wasn’t unreasonable that we adopted the U Like It, U Climb It policy and didn’t give her a boost. Or get down on all fours next to it and make like a step stool. So after about 5 minutes (yes, really) of trying to get on, she finally managed it, but not before a Swedish family had a pretty good view of London, France, and all of the arrondissements. Good thing the Swedes love to travel.

Hippo Birdie Two Ewes

Miss Sara is 14 years old today!! Despite all the trials and tribulations of raising a daughter, I wouldn’t change a thing. Happy birthday to my wonderful daughter.

In case you missed what Sara has been up to this year, click here for a review of her adventures in Europe while attending Florida Virtual School.

Sweet Sverige!

So Sara literally had tears in her eyes as our plane descended into Gothenburg Central airport. Tears, I tell you! It was amazing to think that for two years she has been so devoted to all things Swedish and we’re finally here.  We were met at the airport by Roland, the father of our exchange guy, and he drove us to the house and gave us a thorough tour and overview of how everything works. He was delighted to learn that Sara was here to further her Swedish education, and told us the story about His Sarah, the exchange student he cared for many years ago who came from Ohio.  Apparently he and his family took such pains to teach Swedish to His Sarah that she was the only one in her group to have actually learned the language while she was here. It can be tough, as so many Swedes speak English so well and want to practice, so he advised Sara to be steadfast and to tell everyone that she is trying to learn and prefers to speak Swedish. Either way, the two of them were chatting away in the car, and we were all quite impressed with Sara’s proficiency.

We went to the local bathing place near the house and found the water to be surprisingly warm, and Sam actually swam for about 30 minutes. The next day, Roland came back to drive us for a tour of the local attractions, which included a lovely nature preserve where we got to snuggle with a newborn foal (!!) and take a long walk through the woods. Roland also showed us a few of the local bad platser that we can bike to, including this cool spot with big climbing rocks and a sandy inlet for shallow swimming and a few docks to jump off. Sam keeps asking us to take us back there. But Momma, it’s PUBLIC! They have a SIGN! Ah, the simplicity of youth.

What the Huck?

image: Hipfel/Starck

So I am obsessed with timber rafting. There's this ecotourism company in Sweden that offers timber raft excursions, the best part being that you make your own raft!  They give you logs and rope, provide an instructor, and you're good to go. It's really cool because not only do you get to coast down the river like Huck Finn on a super cool raft that you built yourself, but then you find a good spot to make camp and you settle in for the night. In many European countries including Sweden you're allowed to camp basically wherever you want, including private property (!!) as long as you're not on farm fields and gardens, according to the Right to Common Access. Instead of having to sleep in a traditional camp ground with a bunch of other people, we can camp whever we want to. Sam is getting good at finding a place to pitch our imagined tent; each time we go for a walk I ask him where can we put our tent tonight?  So you rent gear from the tour company, including tents, sleeping bags, cooking supplies, and a provisions box (Sara's favorite), and you set off for 4 days on your 18 m² raft.  That's bigger than any of our bedrooms at home, for you non-metric people. Build a raft, live on it for 4 days, and explore the Swedish wilderness on our own - what could be better than that?