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| Recipes |
| • Glögg |
| • Gravlax with Mustard Sauce |
| • Crispy Salmon Skin |
| • Pickled Herring Sushi-Style |
| • Purple Mustard |
I've had what could probably be considered the best Swedish food you'd find outside of Sweden — both high-end dining and homemade dishes cooked by actual Swedes. I suppose I wouldn't find this surprising if Swedish food were more common beyond IKEA cafeteria cafeterias.
The first time, in fact, was a fluke. It happened because I was drunk. I was with friends in New York, drinking away a Saturday afternoon in a hotel bar. Somebody mentioned Aquavit, the well-known restaurant from Marcus Samuelsson, and for some reason we couldn't imagine anything we'd rather do more than go for a meal that would be ultimately cost more than $1,000 for six people.
So we hailed a limo. We were actually trying to hail a cab when a limo pulled up and offered to take us to the restaurant. People who aren't from New York are embarrassed to confess to being surprised by anything in New York, lest they seem too provincial, but I'll admit it: I was surprised that you can hail a limo in New York.
When we got to the restaurant, the staff treated us a little like those catty saleswomen in Pretty Woman treated Julia Roberts when she tries to shop in their fancy store. We weren't asked to leave, though to be fair, we probably should have been, considering our visible intoxication. I can't recall too much of the food we ate except for a lingonberry jelly molded into the shape of a Swedish fish. All I really remember is the tab and the fact that we got there in a limo. Pretty gauche, I know.
The second time I ate Swedish food was this month, at the American Swedish Historical Museum in Philadelphia. If Swedish food is hard to come by in the United States, it may be because of the country's limited historic presence here when compared to that of other European powers. The museum, in fact, was established to celebrate a Swedish colony here that lasted less than 20 years, and was concentrated in the area around Philadelphia.
Each year the museum celebrates St. Lucia, and on one night the women get together to prepare a traditional Julbord feast — the Christmas smörgåsbord. I went with two friends not in a limo, but in my ’97 Dodge Stratus.
The night opened with glögg in the museum's foyer. With it came gingerbread cookies plus raisins and almond slivers to drop into the mulled wine. Then we crowded down stairs and entered the subterranean dining room, where we'd enjoy the Julbord feast. The museum is built in the style of a 17th-century Swedish manor house; upstairs, each room of the museum celebrates a different aspect of Swedish culture, among them Alfred Nobel, Jenny Lind, and Swedish glass. The subterranean dining room, however, was wood paneled, drop ceilinged, and windowless, and could have just as easily been in a VFW's basement as in a Swedish heritage museum's.
We sat at group tables, my friends and I sharing ours with a mother and daughter of Swedish descent who live in New Jersey, and a married couple and their friend, a woman from Sweden who looked like Annie Lennox.
When our table was called, we picked up our plates and lined up on either side of the first table. It was covered in the cold foods that make up the first course of Julbord, dishes such as herring salads, hard boiled eggs, cucumber slices in dill, boiled potatoes, red cabbage, slices of ham and cheese, and hard bread.
At Julbord, the cold and hot foods are eaten separately, so once we were done with our herring and cucumbers, we went up to a second table with women standing behind food trays kept warm over Sterno cans. We were served Swedish meatballs, small pork sausages, and Janssons frestelse, or "Jansson's Temptation," which is a casserole made of potato, onion, and sprats (an anchovy-like fish). The New Jersey daughter at our table told us that, despite what many think, smörgåsbord does not mean "all you can eat." But if she meant that we couldn't go back up at all, well, I didn't listen and went back for more Swedish meatballs. An obvious choice for seconds? Maybe, but they were the most delicious I've ever had.
The night went off without a hitch, especially when compared to my night at Aquavit. Annie Lennox was annoyed when a woman selling raffle tickets let the tickets run through the food on her plate, but that was better than my drunk friend at Aquavit who tried to fix a crooked painting and almost knocked it off the wall.After dinner we went back to the foyer to watch the St. Lucia procession. Observed on December 13, the holiday traditionally involved a family’s oldest daughter dressing in white — a wreath of candles on her head — and bearing gifts. The modern idea of a Lucia procession, in which a church or school or town selects its own Lucia, began in 1927 when a Stockholm newspaper selected one for that city. Today it involves a march of many children, that year's Lucia (at the museum, with a ring of electric "candles"), and a song even harder to get out of your head than "Feliz Navidad."
According to some historical accounts, Lucia brings her parents coffee and treats (which sounds like a great coup for the parents around Christmastime). Lucia didn't bring us any, though, so after the performance we all descended back into the dining room for cups of coffee, rice pudding, and Mandarin orange slices in syrup.
God Jul everyone!
Jesse Smith is the executive editor of Table Matters.
| Glögg, from Aquavit: And the New Scandinavian Cuisine by Marcus Samuelsson (Houghton Mifflin, 2003). |
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"From the beginning of December on through the New Year, glögg [traditional mulled wine] is served in Swedish homes on every festive occasion or when visitors drop by." Makes about 1 1/2 quarts 1. Crush the cinnamon and cardamom using a motar and pestle (or put them on a cutting board and crush them with the bottom of a heavy pot). Put them in a small glass jar and add the ginger, orange zest, cloves, and vodka. Let stand for 24 hours. 2. Strain the vodka through a fine sieve into a large saucepan; discard the spices. Add the red wine, port or Madeira, sugar, vanilla sugar, almonds, and raisins, and heat over medium heat just until bubbles start to form around the edges. 3. Serve the glögg hot in mugs, with a few almonds and raisins in each one; keep any remaining glögg warm over very low heat until ready to serve (do not let boil). |
| Gravlax with Mustard Sauce, from Aquavit: And the New Scandinavian Cuisine by Marcus Samuelsson (Houghton Mifflin, 2003). | |
Serves 10 to 12 as an appetizer "Gravlax, salmon cured to a velvety, silky-smooth texture in a sugar-salt-dill mixture, is one of the great traditional Scandinavian dishes. An essential part of any smorgasbord table, it also makes an elegant appetizer for a dinner party. Although it is a special-occasion dish, it is simple to prepare. I like to start the cure at room temperature, so that the sugar and salt slowly dissolve, penetrating the flesh of the fish, then finish with a longer stint in the refrigerator. (The word gravlax comes from gravad lax, literally, "buried salmon," because in the days before refrigeration, the salmon was buried in the ground to keep it cold as it cured.) As gravlax has become popular in the United States, chefs have experimented with all sorts of cures — using tequila and cilantro, for example, or gin and juniper berries. But of all the fresh herbs used in Sweden, dill is the most popular, particularly in fish preparations, and I offer the classic version here, with the traditional mustard-dill sauce as an accompaniment. I do add a little coffee to the sauce to give it a touch of earthiness. On a smorgasbord table, present the cured fish whole, with a sharp slicing knife so guests can serve themselves. If you're not sure about your guests' knife skills, slice the gravlax and arrange the paper-thin slices on a platter, with the mustard sauce alongside." 1 cup sugar For the Mustard Sauce 2. Transfer the salmon to the refrigerator and let cure for 36 hours. 3. Up to 1 day ahead, prepare the mustard sauce: Combine both mustards, the sugar, vinegar, coffee, salt, and pepper in a blender. With the machine running, add the oil in a slow, steady stream, blending until the sauce is thick and creamy. Transfer to a bowl and stir in the dill. Cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight, to allow the flavors to marry. 4. Scrape the seasonings off the gravlax. Slice the gravlax on the bias into thin slices, or leave whole so your guests can slice it themselves. Serve with the mustard sauce and bread. |
| Crispy Salmon Skin, from Aquavit: And the New Scandinavian Cuisine by Marcus Samuelsson (Houghton Mifflin, 2003). |
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"One of the best parts of salmon is the skin. Cooked until crisp, it is as tasty as bacon or roasted chicken skin. Broken up into large or small pieces, it can be used as a garnish for gravlax, nibbled as a snack on its own, tossed into a salad, or served instead of chips with a dip... Use the skin the same day you make it, and don't refrigerate it, or it will lose its crispness. And, of course, if you don't have the skin from a whole side of salmon, you can certainly do this with a smaller piece." Makes 1 crispy salmon skin or about 1 1/2 cups broken-up pieces
1. Combine the water, sugar, soy sauce, and lemon juice in a small saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Remove from the heat and let cool. 2. Lay the salmon skin on a cutting board and use a very sharp knife to scrape away any bits of meat and fat. Transfer the skin to a shallow dish (or a zipper-lock plastic bag). Pour the marinade over the skin and cover with plastic wrap (or pour the marinade into the bag and seal the bag). Transfer to the refrigerator and let marinate for at least 3 hours, or as long as overnight. 3. Preheat the oven to 300°F. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil or parchment paper. 4. Drain the salmon skin and lay it on the baking sheet. Bake for 20 minutes. Increase the oven temperature to 400°F and bake for 5 more minutes, or until the skin is very crisp. Remove from the oven and let cool. 5. Break the salmon skin into cracker-sized or smaller pieces, or leave it whole (see Note). Serve or use the same day. Notes It is important to scrape away every bit of meat and fat from the skin, or it may burn while crisping in the oven. If you leave the skin in one piece, you can use it as an edible platter for other seafood. |
| Pickled Herring Sushi-Style, from Aquavit: And the New Scandinavian Cuisine by Marcus Samuelsson (Houghton Mifflin, 2003). | |
"The similar textures of pickled herring and the raw fish used in sushi inspired this recipe. Because herring is almost always served with potatoes in Scandinavia, I replaced the traditional sushi rice with mashed potatoes. These "sushi" make an unusual hors d'oeuvre for a party, or you can serve several pieces per person as an appetizer. Whole pickled herring fillets can be found in some gourmet markets and delis. If you cannot locate them, jars of pickled herring pieces are available in most supermarkets; look for them in the refrigerated section." Serves 6 to 8 as an appetizer, 8 to 10 as part of a buffet 1. Put the potatoes in a medium saucepan, add salted water to cover by 1 inch, and bring to a boil. Cook for 20 minutes, or until tender. Drain and let stand until cool enough to handle. 2. Peel the potatoes, put them in a medium bowl, and mash well with a fork. Add the mustard oil, Dijon mustard, rice vinegar, wasabi, and salt, and mix well. 3. Divide the potato mixture into quarters. On a board or other work surface, roll each portion under your palms into a log about 1 inch in diameter and 9 inches long. 4. If using whole herring fillets, slice them on the diagonal into 1/2-inch-wide strips. If necessary, cut any larger pieces of jarred herring in half, or trim them to fit the potatoes. Cut the mashed potato logs into 1 1/2 inch lengths. Stand them on end and top each one with a piece of herring. Serve at room temperature, or refrigerate and serve chilled. 5. Just before serving, garnish each piece of "sushi" with a dollop of purple mustard. |
| Purple Mustard, from Aquavit: And the New Scandinavian Cuisine by Marcus Samuelsson (Houghton Mifflin, 2003). |
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Makes about 2 cups 1. Combine the red wine, port, shallots, mustard seeds, peppercorns, and tarragon in a medium saucepan, bring to a boil over medium-high heat, and boil until reduced to 1/2 cup. 2. Transfer to a blender. Add the mustard and mustard powder and blend until smooth. Store in a tightly sealed jar in the refrigerator for up to 2 months. |
Swedish festival photos by Mike Bucher, recipe photos by Shimon & Tammar, courtesy of Houghton Mifflin, "Dispatch" photograph from King Molan via Flickr (Creative Commons), "Plate" photograph from FoodCollection/Getty Images.
