It’s Shrove Tuesday, which means semlor. I’d forgotten all about it, until Ingrid reminded me. Had I remembered earlier, I would not have timed my visit to the bakery to coincide with all the commuters coming home. Still, the queue was only half this long when I joined it. It grew with every arriving train.

Eric got a whole semla, while Ingrid and I shared one. It was more of a symbolic thing, really. I mean, they do taste good, but it’s not like they’re my favourite baked goods. And they’re usually huge anyway. Adrian meanwhile wasn’t interested at all.


Nysse gets cat-quality tuna as “filler food” when he’s begging for more food even after he’s been served his three measures of kibble for the day, or between meals. If he’s hungry for real, he’ll eat the tuna. If he’s just feeling like having a snack, then he ignores it.

These cans are all of human-quality tuna, though. Ingrid eats them almost daily because it’s an easy and tasty way to get more protein in, for building muscle.

Ingrid wished and got a baking book for Christmas, about bread and buns and brunch. We’re all about to appreciate the results. She’s making mud cake buns – rolled buns with a mud cake filling.




My brother came for a Christmas visit.

We played board games (Robo Rally),

… made pasta together,

… and crafted mince pies.

Christmas Day may be behind us, but it’s still Christmas, and mince pies are a must-have.

Christmas presents. And Christmas food. Not many photos of things happening because I mostly forgot about my camera.

We used to put Christmas gifts out under the tree the night before, both for the festive feeling and for the kids to go and poke and shake and wonder who would be getting what. With a cat in the house, that is not an option. Shiny paper, dangly ribbons, chewable boxes? Temptations, temptations everywhere. Now we had the gifts hidden away until just before opening time, and when that arrived, we shut Nysse in the bedroom. Adrian was disappointed, but what can you do.

Devilled eggs are our go-to festive lunch food. This time we made them extra festive, with “holly” decorations made of pomegranate seeds and parsley leaves, based on an idea that Ingrid found on TikTok. Served with Eric’s vörtbröd, three kinds of pickled herring (blackcurrant; sesame and wasabi; sour cream and fish roe) and a beetroot salad.

Ingrid was the mind and hands behind the most decorative part of Christmas dinner as well – a Pavlova wreath. Three kinds of cheese with biscuits and marmalade for starters; Hasselback potatoes, black bean “meatballs”, cranberry sauce and brussel sprouts for the main course; Christmas pudding for those who like that kind of thing.

Twice during the cooking and food prep I was caught out by using what seemed like risk-free substitutes.

For the beetroot salad, I bought pre-cooked beets to save time, instead of boiling them at home. Chopped them up, mixed with all the other things and the sour cream dressing – and the salad came out white. For the record, beetroot salad is NOT supposed to be white but violently purple. I don’t know what they did with the pre-cooked beets – peeled them before cooking, maybe – but clearly they lost all their colour. Luckily we had a jar of pickled beets in the fridge, so I used those to top up the salad and give it some colour at least.

For the cranberry sauce, there were no fresh cranberries to be had anywhere, so I bought frozen ones. I suspect the fresh ones that used to be available around Christmastime may have been of the American variety (so maybe they weren’t even sold for Christmas but for Thanksgiving and then afterwards as long as stocks lasted), whereas the frozen ones are definitely of Swedish origin. And clearly they behave differently when cooked. The fresh ones were rich in pectin, so the sauce thickens after cooking and cooling. The frozen ones clearly aren’t, because the sauce remained as runny as anything and I had to thicken it with cornstarch. Tasted delicious, though.


Saffron buns of the lussebulle model have been a thing for the Christmas season in Sweden for as long as I can remember. Recently they’ve been joined by other kinds of saffron-flavoured baked goods. There are saffron muffins, saffron crescents, and saffron biscuits. This year I’m seeing saffron buns with almond paste at every bakery. Or maybe they’ve been around, and it’s just me who hasn’t noticed them? It’s a delicious combination, in any case.






As a birthday present to myself, I gave myself a dinner at Minako sushi, one of the absolute best sushi restaurants in Stockholm.

We’d reserved a table for an evening two weeks after my birthday, but that very day Nysse came home with broken bones, so the dinner never happened. Then there was Nysse’s convalescence, and then me trying to recover my energy after 6 weeks of near isolation, and then the kids’ birthdays, and suddenly it was November.

Now, though, we made a new reservation and there were no emergencies of any kind, so we had wonderful sushi. Eric, Ingrid and I had sushi at Minako, while Adrian, who isn’t as fond of sushi, ordered dumplings and spring rolls from a local place in Spånga and got the house for himself for the whole evening.

The omakase (chef’s choice) dinner consisted of 7 courses, if I remember correctly. Already the first one, with marinated octopus and seaweed, was incredible. I almost never order octopus because it always feels like rubber, but this one was only delicately chewy.

There were a few plates of nigiri, common in shape but uncommon in the choice of fish. Salmon, yes, but also rainbow trout and arctic char. And cod, which – like octopus – I never like in any cooked form, but was perfect here. Every time I eat really excellent sushi one of my main conclusions is that this is how fish should be eaten. Cooking mostly just destroys it. (Except for very lightly cooked salmon that is just barely not raw.)


My favourite pieces were these futomaki rolls. There was daikon radish in there, and something to do with pumpkin, and tuna, and a leaf that tasted like a cross between mint and coriander, and some other thing that I can’t remember. It all came together into a taste explosion where everything balanced and complemented everything else, and every bite brought out something new.

I’ve been feeling cold all the time, even when the temperature seems reasonable. Wearing layers upon layers, at least two of which are wool or polar fleece.

A hot meal always warms me up. Sometimes I have no full meals among the boxes of leftovers in the fridge. On days like those, I’d much rather have an odd but warming meal – like this combination of spaghetti with sweetcorn soup, or perhaps sweetcorn soup with spaghetti – than something like sandwiches or tortellini.