The mothership has called me back. This means I’m on holiday in Sweden for a week. I arrived yesterday and was met by a beautiful hometown in sunset. There’s no place like home-home.
Today was spent on grandpa’s balcony, reading Swedish Elle (I’m determined not to sound like a dense expat and have set a goal to read as much Swedish literature as possible, Elle sort of counts). As I was lying there halp-asleep grandpa suddenly walks through the door with two friends in tow. I rushed to cover my zebra print boxers and tried to look ever so much as the successful granddaughter from London – not the slacker grandchild who spends her entire day sleeping on a lounger.
With mission accomplished (I think), I went back home just in time to find my mum planning tonight’s meal: salmon with chive and white wine sauce, served with dill potatoes. One of my favourite dishes. Every time I’m back she makes sure to cook me a couple of stellar dishes. No wonder I suffer from food depression when I get back to my flat in London. Additionally, there’s a steady stream of invites (once again, to look at the long lost “Londoner”) for fika, lunch and dinner, which is lovely but also a complete diet-killer. I’m off to the beaches of Italy after this stay, which leaves me with a dilemma. To eat or not to eat the kladdkaka? I think we all know the answer to that one…
still or sparkling? 