Thanksgiving

... is my favorite American holiday, and one I sorely missed this year. To combat the homesickness, I decided to host a small Thanksgiving dinner this past Sunday for us, my Swedish father-in-law and his friend. 

I hosted a Thanksgiving dinner only once before, during my second year of college with a group of transplanted students. It was a potluck and my roommate, Laurie, and I had only to prepare the turkey and gravy (my pre-vegetarian days). Both of which were delicious and edible due to the intervention of friend Jeannie, who stuffed the turkey (ewww) and de-lumpified the gravy.

Since then I've always been lucky enough to be invited to Thanksgiving dinners. So this Sunday was a fun challenge, and I have renewed appreciation for all you Thanksgiving chefs. I started the food preparation at 7pm the night before and was pretty much in the kitchen until 6pm dinnertime on Sunday. But it was overall enjoyable, and Roger was a great sous-chef and fountain of optimism as I fretted about the ...

tofurkey. Yep, in trying to find a vegetarian entree to replace the Thanksgiving turkey I came across a homemade tofu turkey recipe that was to be a great replacement for the store-bought Tofurkey I usually bring home. This recipe is basically seasoned tofu, compressed and wrapped around bread stuffing. Although time-intensive, the dish wasn't so complicated. 

But each step of the way as the tofu made its transformation, my doubts grew about the palatability factor...

But have to say, the meal and coziness of the evening was a success. Everyone, myself included, enjoyed the diverse and complimentary flavors - savory, sugary, tangy and an all-pervasive butteriness. I mixed in a little Swedish tradition with the substitution of lingonberry jam for cranberry sauce, and a traditional applecake with vanilla sauce for pumpkin pie (the latter is not one of my favorites). 

Afterwards we were all full and awash in that warm glow of Thanksgiving contentment and cheer. Lisbeth said she enjoyed her first Thanksgiving, and I'm thankful for that. 

Our homemade tofu turkey ready for the oven.
I was fairly skeptical at this point.

The final outcome, an hour plus and several
bastings later. It looked ... odd, and I was
having misgivings about putting the
meat-eaters through this.

Proper presentation and nice garnishes
helped boost my confidence.

And in the end, the dinner actually turned out great - 
tofu turkey included. Compliments all around, from
 Swedes and Americans alike!

With Ruby as the exception, who ate only the tofu
and lingonberry jam and politely refused all else.
Picky, picky, picky ... and annoying.

Svensk äppelkaka: this baby has apples, cinnamon,
cardamon, almond paste and 1/2 pound of butter!

Höst/Autumn

As if on cue, autumn creeped up on Skåne beginning in late September, and within a few weeks the weather was that much more blustery, gray and wet. 

I've pretty much lived my life in the San Francisco Bay Area, with a few Southern California interludes. Now here in Sweden and experiencing this different clime, I've been captivated by the dramatic seasonal change - the softening of the light (the sun is traveling pretty low now), the glorious colors in the foilage, and the noticeable chill in the air.

For Ruby - she was particularly enthused about jumping into and running willy-nilly in the mounds of crisp, yellowing leaves that the wind piled up around Staffanstorp.

Ruby in her grandfather's garden. On this particular day, Ruby and I
ran back and forth through the house to confirm that on one side it
was raining, and on the other side - not raining! Then we got
completely distracted by the appearance of the double rainbow.

Kanelbulledagen

October 4 was Kanelbulledagen. (translation: Cinnamon Bun Day)

A day to celebrate and pay homage to warm, sweet, baked goodness? Why the heck not. Mark it on your calendar for next year, people.

My lovely sister-in-law gave me a heads-up on this. And lucky for me, because I might have passed right by the posters and bakery windows topped up with cinnamon buns without quite having figured it out. While Swedish cinnamon buns have been a tradition dating back to the 1920s, its namesake day was created  in 1999 to celebrate the 40th anniversary of Sweden's Hembakningsrådet (Home Baking Council). 

A little more online searching reveals that Hembakningsrådet was formed in 1949 by several Swedish food companies that produced flour, yeast, margarine and sugar. So in truth, my excitement about Kanelbulledagen is the perfect consumer response to a crafted promotional and marketing endeavor. But it would seem most of the Swedes and Swedish bakeries share my enthusiasm for Kanelbulledagen, since it's been 13 years since inception and going strong.

Throughout the day the bakeries, and supermarkets, churn out batches of the cheerful little brown, coiled buns. The best Swedish kanelbulle is in my opinion a bread roll that is firm but tender, sweet and a little buttery (without being goopey, toothache-inducing sugary), cinnamon with hints of cardamon, and the little pop and crunch of the requisite pearl sugar sprinkle. Another good thing about Kanelbulledagen - the prices are lower!

So on October 4, after running errands in Lund I made a point of joining the rest of Sweden by swinging by Ramklints Conditori, getting in line and scooping up my share of the warm rolls. At home, we warmed them up and served with tea, especially delicious with the cool autumn weather outside.

...

Since arriving in Sweden, I've been obsessively trying out local cinnamon rolls in search of the perfect creation. Below are my three favorites ... thus far.

Kanelbulle from Lund's Stadsbibliotek (City Library). Most libraries here have a
cafe of some sort tucked away in the building. It's a great idea: to take a break
from studying or to read your library treasures with a coffee and snack. 
Lund's main library makes their own kanelbulle, which the counterlady 
boasted were the best around, and she wasn't far off. Quite buttery
and soft, but delicious flavors, and what I imagine a 
Swedish grandma would serve up.

Impressively decorated chocolate balls

are also offered up at Stadsbibliotek. 

Delectable Danishes at the Stadsbibliotek. Chatting with my mother, 
I mused that the kanelbulle is to Sweden as the Danish is to Denmark.
She asked what the Danes call Danishes ... good question. They call it
weinerbrød, or Viennese bread! Yep, that's right - read it here.

My number one favorite kanelbulle can be found at Vendel Bakery
in Malmö. Great texture with the perfect blend of cinnamon and 
sweetness, organic, and big (that's the American in me, 
I want a good-sized kanelbulle for my 25 crowns).

Vendel Bakery storefront: a modest entryway at street level,
from which you walk down a few steps into ...

... a basement bakery. So cozy and warm inside, and such intoxicating
smells wafting out of the back room. It's a good remedy when I'm
missing Arizmendi Bakery in the Bay Area.

Vendel's cardamon rolls are exceptional too. Both are addictive.

Some of you might recall an earlier posting about Ramklints, in which I tried 
the kanelbulle. This time around the sampling was much more satisfying,
whether because of the freshness or my enthusiasm I can't say. No matter.

Ramklints actually had a poster addressing the cinnamon bun 
in the first person! "We love you, Cinnamon Bun."

Ruby loves you too, Cinnamon Bun!

Kolonilotter

I was on a museum outing in the city of Landskrona earlier this summer when I came upon the amazing little garden plots shown below! And being the person that I am, I was fascinated by the "shire" like quality of it (as in The Shire of Middle Earth, as described by JRR Tolkien). Granted there's no round doors or homes recessed into the earth -- but the tidy, bucolic, miniature-ness of the gardens smacked of hobbits to me.

Kolonilotter, or "allotment gardens", can be found in many of Sweden's cities with denser populations. Researching online, seems like this European tradition was imported into Sweden in the late 1800's. (For more info here's a Wiki link and a blog posting with a great description of allotment gardens, their history, and the blogger's enthusiasm/obsession about it.) I'm guessing an area of the city was set aside and then divided into small tracts which was then leased out to individuals. With both city populations and industrialization increasing, it was thought these allotment gardens would be a healthy diversion for residents to connect with nature and also supplement their food supply with home-grown fruits and vegetables. 

The kolonilotter seems to serve the same purpose today. The little gardens are basically a rented backyard. Most of the little sheds/cabins are without electricity and running water and not intended for habitation. But in some cities apparently some of the little cabins can serve as a summer residence. 

In Staffanstorp I (Roger really) chatted up some of the gardeners. After 50 or so years of existence, the Staffanstorp kolonilotter will be translocated within the year further away from the city center to make way for "development." The two older ladies we spoke with seemed a bit sad, but resigned, about leaving behind their little gardens that they have nurtured so lovingly for years. Another lady told us after unloading a bag of fresh-picked plums on us, that there has been some push back and the "developments" will be appealed and perhaps delayed. I've got my fingers crossed.

Thinking about the kolonilotter, and San Francisco's beautiful community gardens, and the rooftop garden at Alamo School where I used to work tended by parents, students and dear Mrs. Ames, and Amy Franchesini's Victory Gardens project -- makes me think about how many of us have this need to feel connected to growing things and the cycles of nature. 

In Sweden, supporting that connection seems more embedded in the culture; perhaps linked to the long winters and the corresponding fanatical appreciation of summer. But I like to think that more people in U.S. cities are recognizing that need for connection to nature and food, and perhaps new, intriguing trends and traditions will "grow" in this direction. One can hope.

So neat and tidy! Am I right, can't you see a hobbit wandering
through this scene?! This garden is in Landskrona.

Some of the gardens are the summer home
away from home, but just across town! (Landskrona)

Complete with orderly walkways, fences and gates. (Landskrona)

Some of the gardens in Staffanstorp have been abandoned
as people anticipate the imminent demolition of this location.

And with gardens being abandoned, some Staffanstorp gardeners
 have seized the opportunity to expand their area into 2 plots!

Yep, that's corn stalks! I chatted with this gardener, a sweet
lady, who said she is able to grow her entire summer produce
needs and shares the excess with her grandchildren.
Ruby got to pick a few tomatoes with her too!

Put A Bird On It

So my sister-in-law had mentioned to me that Malmö had some similarities to Portlandia (if you haven't heard about this TV series, be sure to do a YouTube search). After revisiting a few times and leisurely perusing Malmö ... I see it now. Malmö has its art scene, the green and sustainable efforts, a hipster vibe in certain areas, and its women's herbal supplement storefront - all of which Portland takes to a different level of course, according to Carrie and Fred.

But here's where Malmö can compete with Portlandia:

"Put A Bird On It!" For the full effect
visit the Portlandia clip here :)

OK, so I have to acknowledge that someone put a little more
thought into this one. This is a display by one artist, who has
created a whole flock of birds from entirely recycled materials.
It's birds and repurposing of materials - so Portlandia!

All the above photos were taken during one day wandering around Malmö. Once I began noticing the prevalence of the bird motif I couldn't keep from giggling and photographing each time I came across another example. The "Spruce it up! Make it pretty!" with birds movement seems quite sincere; nothing tongue in cheek, wink-wink, about it at this point.

And the birds keep on appearing seemingly whenever I turn a corner. "Birds everywhere! And now you can open for business!"

Hey, look at those white guys ...

Look at the photo below, gaze at the billowing, cotton-puff clouds and notice the placid sheep ...

... no - cows!

I don't know why, but I've been somewhat fascinated by the herds of 
white cows I see standing around here by the roadsides. 

So stark in comparison to the black & white or russet colored cows that
speckle the California fields. (By the way, their legs aren't black - 
that's just mud.) These girls are hanging out in a marshy area 
on the northern perimeter of Staffanstorp, alongside a bike path.

For sure there are cows of other colors, black, brown, dun,
spotted, mingling among the crowd. But there are enough
white cows here in Skåne that I had to stop and gawk. 

I now know if you search "white cows" on the internet, you'll find an
abundance of fair-haired bovine breeds. Roger thinks these might
unfortunately be destined for the slaughterhouse. At least they
seem to being enjoying their days before their end time; 
no insane Harris Hell Ranch for these boys and girls.

Less is More

Last week I returned to Moderna Museet in Malmö to see the Irving Penn photo exhibit. It was a good show - always exciting to see photographs in person that I've only seen in books/magazines/reproductions, as well as new ones. I'm reminded how great Penn's sense of composition was.

Two thoughts stood out for me during this exhibit. One, it felt almost nostalgic to see silver-gelatin & platinum/palladium prints again. And these were beautifully printed. I swear while I was walking through the show, I could smell the darkroom. (Roger said he just smelled the fresh paint on the walls.) For the non-photo folks or just young people, the photos in this exhibit were all printed in the darkroom with toxic, stinky chemicals which create lovely, luminous photographs in beautiful black, white, and gray tones. Granted digital prints are really good these day, but sometimes the difference is there.

My second thought about the show: less is more, at least it can be in the museum. Malmö's Moderna Museet is small for a museum, but it does a good job of using the space without overcrowding the walls and space. Less works on display, but then only the really strong pieces make the cut. And it frees up a visitor to spend more time enjoying favorite pieces, as opposed to the big blockbuster show where one is compelled to keep moving so as to see everything in gallery after gallery. I'm talking to you, SFMOMA.

The photos displayed on this diagonal wall are some of
Penn's  portraits taken against his angled backdrops.
I like the creative installation!

Louisiana Museum

In between rainy days, I had a great Sunday outing to Denmark's Louisiana Museum of Modern Art. After a smoothly-scheduled, relaxing trip including two trains and a ferry, I was treated to my first visit to this beautiful museum. 

The Louisiana has a lot to offer aside from its international art collection. For starters, it has a fantastic seaside location just outside Copenhagen. Then there's the amazing sculpture garden with different "outdoor galleries" to enjoy the art and views, not to mention the perfect picnic spots. Decent restaurant and giftshop/bookstore always a plus, and a dedicated children's wing! There are several indoor exhibition spaces, but with our train schedule we only visited the latest show: New Nordic - Architecture and Identity. (For a quick peek, check  out this video.)

Jeff and Leticia, wish you were here! The New Nordic show revolves around the question "What is Nordic?" Artists, designers, writers, architects, and other cultural notables from Denmark (including Greenland), Finland, Iceland, Norway and Sweden visually answered with small, dioramas in a variety of media. Another aspect of the show highlighted Nordic architecture - how the use of landscape, light, materials, and communal spaces create a unifying cultural sensibility. Photographs and architectural models were displayed in a gratifyingly accessible and interesting way. Another component of the show was videos and photos which pushed the question on how urban public spaces are being used, for better or for worse. 

For me, it was a really satisfying and exciting introduction to the museum. I thought the curator(s) did a great job in selecting and connecting the pieces and themes. The exhibition design and installation looked wonderful, and felt comfortable to wander through. The text was succinct and informative, without being didactic or abstract (my pet peeve). And while there was a lot to see it was manageable, and with a good ratio of interactive components. Thoughtful, educational, and inspiring - the way I like art. 

Great art.

Great views.

Navigationally-challenged visitor.

So cool! I think it was actually the first time I've seen one of
Calder's outdoor pieces responding to the wind. 

If I was a Henry Moore piece, I'd want to recline here too.

One of the two indoor dining areas. Like a greenhouse for humans.

I had a fried celery root sandwich. The Danes and Swedes include a
lot of roots & tubers in their cuisine ... and mayonnaise.

This was the start of the exhibition, in a wide corridor with natural
light. I really liked how the text panels were cards suspended
alongside the dioramas. On one side the text is in Danish, the
other side translated in English. Somehow it felt more intimate
to handle the cards and peer into the boxes.

Knitting references popped up a few times during
the exhibit. Made me think about my friend, Michelle,
explaining to me not long ago about yarnbombing.
I love how knitting is making it's comeback!

On display are 5 Nordic Houses, each one designed by a
different architect to represent the regional identity of
their country. In the foreground is the Finnish House, and
behind is the Icelandic House.

I didn't quite "get" the Icelandic House, other
than noting the volcanic rocks at the base.
Maybe this requires a visit to Iceland...

The Norwegian House. Visitors could walk
into/through each of the five structures.

This gallery displayed photos, plans and models of public buildings with
the "Nordic" aesthetic and sensibilities. I thought the exhibition design
was really cool. I liked the use of vertical space and "lightbox" pedestals.
Lots to see, but nothing felt cramped. 

"Lightbox" pedestals with backlit transparency images 
and rear-projection videos - nice.

Just had to include this - a model-maker with a sense of
humor! Note the little figure passed out in the model
of Denmark's Centre for Cancer & Health.

In this gallery there were video clips projected on one wall and
each of the standing poles contained a touch screen display
which visitors could scroll through photos, drawings, text about
the development/redevelopment of specific public spaces.