Shopping and Fika, Fika and Shopping

Installment 4, of 4. Bye for now, Umea, you tasty place, you.

How much fun is food shopping in far away places? Omg, such a joy! And I know I’m not alone in this: in fact, its one of the most wonderful ways to engage and interact with the people in the land you are visiting.

Once, I spent a Beijing day with my friend, cookbook publisher Ofer Vardi; in the morning we traipsed along the awe-inspiring Great Wall. In the afternoon we visited a nearby Tesco in Daxing, where we were staying. Speaking of the day later, that perfect, wonderful, exciting and oh so special day, we were hard-pressed to decide which was more awe-inspiring: The Great Wall, or Tesco’s. It was that great of a market.

Wherever you are, regardless of the market’s size: massive and overwhelming (delightfully so), hypermarket or outdoors/indoors covered market, with farmers and artisans, or a tiny shop with personal attention and just a handful of items, many new (to you). Visiting is enriching! Fun! Educational! And sometimes, dazzling. Sometimes you might end up finding a new grandmother, discovered by her noticing that you didn’t know where anything was or how to cook/eat it.

All sorts of food markets offer fascinating new (to you) things to taste as well as local ways of eating. It shows you so much about the people who live there: what they eat, how they eat it, basically what their lives are like. Sellers are usually pleased to share their culture and foods with you—some of my life’s best recipes have come to my table (and life) this way.

When I think about it, food shopping is a bit like visiting a museum: the visual stimulation and excitement it elicits. Think of it as: the museum of delicious food and the people who cook it and eat it. But unlike a museum, in a market you can buy stuff to take home. Shopping really is (or can be) a gastronomical portrait of your travels.

In my first installment of this series, I had a photo of me, buying fabulous local cheese, at Gardshem—self-described as: “A delicacy store in the heart of Umea, exclusively promoting products from the north of Sweden, with a passion for flavor and sustainability”. I truly thought of it more as: “the happiest cheese and delicacy shop on earth” where I (happily) bought my memorably delicious tangy pungent green-veined Tant Gron cheese.

A few days later, Ulrica (my Umea everything-guru, also introduced in the first installment) and I found a Coop—one of the most popular supermarkets in Sweden. While I skittered from one refrigerated case to the next, this shelf to that one, freezer section to cheese counter, smoked fish, bakery, jams and preserves—Ulrica read out labels, translated ingredients, narrated how people cook and eat, each food. There was a lot of wild meat such as elk, reindeer, and so forth, though I seem to have lost those raw meat photos. Instead: I give you fish!

So many preserved fish! And herrings! In addition to all the varieties, there was a bevy of matjes herrings: filleted, chopped, whole, plus ways I’ve yet to imagine.

The cheese counter had a vast array of international cheeses, with the local Vasterbotten Ost, placed proudly in front. Vasterbotten Ost is a little bit like Cheddar, a bit like Parmigiana, and a teeny bit like Gouda. But this is just an overall description: like all exceptional foods, Vasterbotten Ost tastes exquisitely like itself.

When I got home to the Hotel Bjorken from shopping, I made a cup of gorgeous Earl Grey tea and unpacked my green polkadot handbag—most of the foods were meant for my suitcase, to tote home to UK, though I opened and noshed on the soft flatbread every so often over the following days. Anyhow, in the photo: blueberry and raspberry jam (not too sugary, tasting of the forest), sweet-spicy pickles, soft flatbread, an assortment of freshly cut cheeses, milk chocolates, tangy mustard in a tube, and oh—my sandwich from breakfast.

Along the way, of course, we stopped for Fika. I soon realized that it is always a good idea to stop for Fika. More than a coffee break, its that uniquely Swedish concept of coffee, cakes, a friend, and a handful of moments of pleasurable well-being.

Yet, its not just about the table set with coffee and cake: fika exhudes the feeling of everyday goodness. Its a reason to get together, to enjoy the fragrant coffee, sweet undulgent cake, and share it all in friendship. And its more: fika is like a Swedish birthright. It belongs to you, and you deserve its goodness. You might even say, like the title of this book: Fika, its the Swedish Way.

Close-up of Princess Cake icing, a slide from the Symposium presentation about Fika. Its pink rosette tops green marzipan icing and when you bite through that (I love marzipan) there is tender sponge, whipped cream and a layer of raspberry jam.

Mmmmmmm….Princess cake! Fika!

Another afternoon, another fika, another Princess cake: this one shaped like a frog! (note the chocolate covered cake next to it. divine!).

While the cakes are so good, so creamily, gorgeously good, I believe that one thing which makes Fika so special: the coffee. Seldom do I find myself somewhere that the coffee is reliably delicious, uniformly craved. Where after a meal, instead of the sadness of it being over, there is the happiness of a wonderful cup of coffee (and of course, a small sweet tidbit to go with it). In Naples and Paris, oh yes! And what a joy to see the same in our little corner of the Arctic Circle.

Like Naples, like Paris, and like Berkeley, California, Swedish coffee is wonderful! It also has its own personality: robust yet smooth. I didn’t see one cappuccino or caffe latte the whole time I was there. Just one beautiful coffee after another. Ulrica Soderlind suggests that in addition to Swedish coffee quality, the water quality in Umea is excellent. I credit the fact that everyone appreciates it, wants to drink it, again: it belongs to you. You deserve it.

You can even do fika with storebought, cellophane-wrapped cakes, like these delicious ones which came in the mail several days after my return (Thank you, Ulrica!). It appears that one can even do Fika, long distance.