Chipped China

 

When I worked for Bloomingdale's in the Fine China and Crystal department I spent years selling the latest, most exclusive and cherished tableware in the world. I believed in the products that I was selling and I loved working for a store that prided itself on having the newest products, and trends. 

However, long before I worked for Bloomingdales I had developed an intense love for old things. This affinity was first fostered by my Mother and my Grandmother. Even after all these years going to trade shows in New York and looking at the products for the season to come, I still somehow always feel a need to create appreciation for all the products that came before. 

In my family I am known as the "old china pattern detective". I find strange pleasure in endless searches on eBay and replacements.com for additional pieces for china patterns that have been long forgotten. To me when I use vintage or antique tableware I feel like I am using things that have a soul. I don't think people think about all of the wonderful occasions their vintage or family heirloom tableware has seen. I think sometimes we live in such a disposable culture that we forget that these old things are a part of our heritage. They are the pretty things that tell a story about where we came from and where we are going.

The dish featured in the photo above is from a set given to me my mother-in-law, Agneta. I ate on them as a guest in her house for many years before they were passed down to me and my sister-in-law. Even though some of the dishes have chips I would never even think about throwing them away for a new set. The dishes have been part of family gatherings here in Sweden for three generations now. I never met my husband's grandparents before they passed away, but using their china makes me feel closer to them and part of our family story.

To San Francisco with Love

 To San Francisco with Love

After writing my post yesterday about my prolonged obsession with the small Swedish village in which I now reside, I felt a little guilty and sad for my City by the Bay. I left San Francisco in such a flurry that really I don't think I ever gave a proper explanation as to why I left. I guess my relationship with San Francisco is much like most intense,passionate, long term relationships that we have. Usually, even after the relationship ends you still have love for the great times you spent together. So here it goes:


Dearest San Francisco,
              
               First off let me say that is was a very difficult decision to leave you. We have spent all of my twenties together. We had so many amazing times that I will never forget.
            
             When our relationship first started I was so young and hopeful. I felt such a strong attraction to you and I thought that my thrilling life with you would never end. My parents tried to warn me that a life with you would be stressful and expensive, but there was nothing anyone could have done to pull me away from you. I enjoyed shopping on Fillmore Street, as well as eating and drinking at each and every new bar/club/restaurant within the city limits. I joyfully chatted with many, many fantastic people; all of whom just wanted to be around you. You had so much great energy and I had a great time at all of your parties. This lifestyle worked great for me for years, but as time went on I changed. 

            I knew for a couple years that it was not working out the way it used to, so I moved out of the center of the city down towards Ocean Beach to see if living a little farther away would help. In those years I waited for the bus or light-rail for seemingly countless hours. The rest of my time was spent working downtown among masses of people all day long. Life with you was all consuming but also provided enough inspiration for all eternity. The problem for me was with all the noise around I could not find peace. I did not have enough space create anything that was my own. So what I'm trying to say is, it's me not you.

           If my life turns out to be as long as I hope it will,there may be a time when being together makes sense again. Until then you have thousands of different wonderful people who love you and always will. I wonder if you even know I have been gone. Well, it's been fun. I know I will have a great time next time I see you.

Much Love,
Natalie

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Floating Sauna

Everyone around here does not seem to understand how amazing it is that there is a sauna floating on the lake in our small village. After I first started to visit here years ago this was one of the things I day dreamed about when I went back to my then very urban reality. I carried it with me almost every day to work on Union Square in downtown San Francisco. The sauna is symbolic and strangely typical of this village as a whole. It has been a place for rest and relaxation for many years. Maybe it's the incredibly good oxygen content in the air here,but it seems like this little place is somehow enchanted.

 This village haunted me with it's memory and I was compelled to scour the internet from California looking at charming red and white cottages that were for sale across the world. My coworkers,friends and family all thought I was crazy. It went on this way for years, until I realized that I was old enough to know what I needed next from life. Now even in Autumn when I get into my small boat and start rowing, I let myself fall under it's spell all over again.A little later when I am too hot to stay in the sauna any longer I stand outside the floating sauna on a small deck.As I look over the lake and into the endless forest I can't help but smile. I feel such intense satisfaction in knowing that I knew all along that it was meant to be.

En Vacker Dag Med Mina Flickvänner (a great day with my girlfriends)

                                                              

I had a nice fika with my sister-in-law Rakel. We both have been so busy lately so it was nice to take a lazy Saturday to get caught up. We were also accompanied later by my niece, Princess Jacqueline. After they chatted a for a spell and enjoyed their kanelbullar they went on down the road home and I walked toward my friend Linda's for a walk around the lake.I feel so nice that the day went this way,everything just came together without any planning what-so-ever. In Sweden I don't have many girlfriends as of yet, but the few brave souls that take the trouble to come to my kitchen table or meet up with me for a chat are like gold to me. So here's to my strong, lovely Scandinavian Queens, you know who you are....

The Last Harvest

                                                 

                  
               Life in the country can yield many things that life in the city rarely can. This is the first year since I was I child that I have had fresh fruits and vegetables growing in my yard. We have managed to have tomatoes, potatoes, cauliflower, basil, dill, thyme,chives, and parsley all summer long. There is something totally satisfying about making dinner with ingredients fresh from your own yard.
                   

               Now when I wake up and see a thick frost all over the yard I know it must be time.The summer is gone and now it's time for the last harvest.I had to take the last of the tomatoes, even though they are still green. I saved the last Sunflowers from the seeds given to me by my sister-in-law Rakel early in the spring.We have spent most of the morning cutting down all the herbs and putting them in small freezer bags so we can enjoy them through the winter months. Everything here is coming and going in a somewhat slow, but serious way. You must move with the seasons, for if you don't the fruits of your efforts will spoil.

Mysig kväll (Cozy Night)

                                                  

When the daylight becomes shorter and the nights become longer many of my Swedish friends start to complain about the growing cold outside and their longing for the summer that has come and gone. Because the concept of the four seasons is so new to me I relish and enjoy each season and the new customs and activities that come along with them.

Thus far Autumn in Sweden is about collecting apples before they go bad, polishing all my silver so it can be enjoyed during the coming months that that will be spent mostly indoors and letting it rain on me when I run with my dog around the lake without giving it much thought.I have heard that there is no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothes....

My Husband's Hot Swedish (cinnamon) Buns

                

            My Husband is a Swede. We met in California and lived there together for ten years before we moved to Sweden. Never during all those years he did not express any interest in baking. All of the sudden, not too long after we moved to Sweden he started making many different types of delicious Swedish treats.When I told his family this they laughed. Turns out he used to bake all the time before he moved to the States and kept this wonderful skill a secret from me all of this time. The buns that are pictured here are his Cinnamon Buns with chopped almonds and marzipan. He also makes some Vanilla Buns of a similar type that are famous in our family.

          It seems to me that Swedes take more time and pride in their baked goods than the average American does. It seem like everyone over here has a special recipe for Kanelbullar (Swedish for Cinnamon Buns) that was handed down from a Mother or Grandmother. The Swedish Cinnamon Bun in all it's forms have been much better than any Cinnamon Bun I have had in the States thus far. I think it could be that Americans are working so much that we think we don't have the time it takes to spend on baking. I think if more Americans spent more time with more Swedish baked goods they would take more time and enjoyment out of making them themselves.

        If I think about it, some of the best memories I have as a child have been when I was baking with loved ones. I think somewhere along the way to the drive thru Starbucks we forgot about the simple pleasures that we no longer can seem to make time for.

Side note in addition to earlier post: When I am working and there is not fresh coffee I am also a "caffeine crazed monster".  When I lived in the States I tried to keep my little caffeine addiction under wraps by not drinking it in the afternoon, now that I live in Sweden and everyone seems to drink much more coffee much more during the day, I just do my best to fit in.I do as the Swedes do.

The Fika Revolution

                                 
                       

Since I moved to Southern Sweden ten months ago I have known that I wanted to start writing about my experiences as an American living in Scandinavia but I have had a really tough time deciding how and where to start .

As anyone who has moved to a new country knows there are so many different things to wrap your head around that just focusing one thing at a time is near impossible. We arrived in Sweden on the 9th of December.For for any Californian the winter in Sweden alone is a sobering reality. On top of that I pretty much started taking Swedish Classes full time upon my arrival. Then I was lucky enough to be offered a job working for the city of Hassleholm where I tried to speak Swedish and fixed "fika". In the states when someone makes the coffee in the office it's usually the least important person in the organization, in Sweden the person who makes the coffee is more respected and thought as the person who keeps the engine of the organization running. Anyone who has worked in Sweden knows that if there is not fresh coffee ready at all times during the working day, otherwise nice, professional people turn into caffeine crazed monsters.

From all of these experiences I came to the conclusion that the Swedish "Fika" custom is so important to life in Sweden that it had to be the subject matter for my first post.For those of you who are not familiar with "Fika", here's the Wikipedia definition:
  
"Fika is a social institution in Sweden; it means having a break, most often a coffee break, with one's colleagues, friends, date or family. The word "fika" can serve as both a verb and a noun. Swedes consider having a coffee an important part of the culture. You can fika at work by taking a “coffee break”, fika with someone like a “coffee date”, or just drink a cup of coffee. As such, the word has quite ambiguous connotations, but almost always including something to eat, such as cookies, cakes and even candy, accompanied by a drink. This practice of taking a break, typically with a cinnamon roll or some biscuits or cookies, or sometimes a smörgås or a fruit on the side, is central to Swedish life, and is regularly enjoyed even by government employees.^[2]"

The Swede's fika tradition is one my absolute favorite parts of the culture for a few reasons:
1. Any excuse I have to take a break or invite people over to be social I appreciate greatly.
2.Any excuse I have to put together a nice spread serving various types of Swedish baked goods on a variety of fine platters my husband said we have no use for, is also appreciated
3. Any excuse I have to drink a cup of Swedish coffee (I will dedicate a whole post to this subject later) after 11am without guilt is the most appreciated of all.