I grew up on oatmeal. My cheeks were like a foot ball and I loved to stuff my face with porridge made from oatmeal every day. I have not eaten porridge since …
t was the early seventies and my mom had just started working. Me and my sister, spoiled with home cooked food every day, suddenly become part of the spoiled-kids-who-got-home-cooked-food-but-now-must-eat-fast-food-generationen. She tried pizza … Noo …. hamburger …. no! mashed potatoes in a box …. … never in our lifves! meat soup in a can….are you kidding?!
Cabbage is not very romantic. Many people associate cabbage with dull, oily pizza salad, but then you should know that cabbage works the room at the fine dining restaurants as we speak and is considered a real delicacy.
Sweden is very dark in the wintertime, but the tradition of Lucia, brings back the light come and from now on, it´s only getting lighter.
An old tradition in Sweden, and Scandinavia, is to slow cook meat for hours until it becomes so tender that it almost falls apart. We put a big piece of meat in a pot, ad a few root crops, maybe some beef or veal stock and sometimes wine and let it slow cook for hours. We call it “långkok”.
To pickle herring is a favorite activity of mine before Christmas. As I´ve said before, I don’t do it often enough and when I do, I do the same old recipes as always. Herring from Brantevik for example is always part of my Christmas dinner, but this year I feel like experiment a bit….go wild and crazy if you will.
My moms maiden name was Jansson and therefore Jansson’s temptation always is associated with her. She made the most delicious Jansson one could eat and I think the secret was butter and whipped cream. And anchovies, of course.
I am a huge fan of herring. I could easily eat only the herring at Easter, Midsummer and Christmas Eve celebrations …
I must admit … it is the pickled herring that does it. The christmas ham and meatballs may excuse me, but it is the salty little fish with its spicy pickling, vinegar and sugar that sweeps the floor with most of the delicacies on my Christmas table.
I´m so lucky! In my cabin in the woods, we have an old woodstove and I have, since we bought the house, worked hard to get the fire working. It has resulted in several fire warning alarms, smoke-filled kitchen and coughing attacks, but since my boyfriend bought some fantastic little stearic rolls and we chopped up some decent dry birch firewood, it works like a dream.