post-Easter post

Aside from last week's bike tour, we other things during the Easter weekend. We were invited to our friend Björn's parents' summer house where we made ribs "our way", and I also read my first påskekrim in the Norwegian (but not particularly Swedish) tradition of reading crime novels on Easter week.

Playing boule during our loooong wait for Easter lunch. Boule is a French lawn game involving heavy metal balls. The teams compete to get their balls nearest a smaller ball, "the jack"

Un-fast food

You see, from time to time we think we have great food ideas that we're eager to share with friends. So when Björn invited us for a shared Easter Sunday lunch, we recommended that it should be slow-broiled ribs. I love ribs. I discovered that I loved ribs about three years ago when we ordered one from a food court and I smacked my oily lips in satisfaction after I licked the bones clean. What's even better is we found out that if you prepare them yourself, they turn out more delicious for the fraction of the price of store-bought. The down-side is that you have to wait all four (!) hours for a cooked meal, but I promise you that the meat literally falls from the bone with a bite. We even perfected a marinade rub: salt, Knorr meat-and-grill seasoning, cayenne pepper and chipotle-flavored Tabasco. The ribs cook 3 hours on a 125 C-degree oven, and thereafter covered in foil for an hour in 175 degrees C.

We were prepared for the wait on Easter day and even watched a movie to pass the time. One hour after the movie began, however, Björn walked to the kitchen to fetch a drink and came back with bad news. Nobody pushed the start button on the microwave-grill! Our four-hour wait would be a five-hour wait, and there was nothing edible in the summer house but candy. We were also several kilometers away from the nearest grocery.

So after three and a half hours, wherein the movie finished and we tried to pass more time by playing many rounds of boule, we all became too hungry. We instead decided to take the ribs out of the oven and brown the surface with a little bit of coal-grilling, since the grill was outside.

It wasn't a good idea with red-hot coals. The fat began to drip on the grill and cause flames, and when we put the flames out and turned the ribs, they were... charred.

Calle, in the foreground holding his fingers in a cup of water, is ready to put out the flames from the grill. Björn turns the ribs, and we discover that the burnt side was, well, burnt.

We were too hungry to care and we ate fast, but the ribs turned out to be good anyway. Not great, but good. Or maybe we were just hungry. If you have time and other stuff to eat during the four-hour wait though, I really do recommend the slow oven-cooking.

Påskekrim, a Norwegian tradition

I recently read about a Norwegian tradition of reading crime novels on Easter break and thought it would be a nice Easter theme to follow the tradition myself. Unfortunately, it's been such a long time since I read a fiction book ("fact" books don't count), so I also had a personal motive for copying the tradition: I simply want to re-discover reading as a hobby.

The news article I read says the tradition of reading påskekrim, literally "Easter crime (novel)" in Norwegian, began in the 1920s with the publication of such a book coinciding with the Easter break. Since Norwegians have longer Easter breaks than Swedes and they usually spend this time alone in their cabins, picking up an easy but engaging novel became the natural choice of entertainment during the week. Nowadays in Norway, even crime-radio dramas and crime TV soaps are part of the phenomenon, but the books are still a large tradition and publishing houses simultaneously come out with their own påskekrim on Easter week.

My choice is an old book, Män som hatar kvinnor (Men who hate women) by Stieg Larsson. This Swedish crime novel was a bestseller and the film version, which came out in February, has earned good reviews and a large following (it's still showing, too). My colleague said this was a book which would keep me glued, comparing it to Dan Brown's page-turners.

However, just as the ribs, it was good but not great. After some rabid reading, I reached the culmination of the story three-fourths into the book and the whole thing just went downhill. The resolution was too protracted I was mostly reading on just to get the whole thing over with. There's a sequel too, but nothing in the book made me want to drop whatever I was doing to get the continuation (Come to think of it, the only time I felt like that was after reading The Two Towers, and it would be unfair to compare). Still, I'll probably come to read the next Stieg Larsson book anyway since my colleague has it and she's eager for me to read the whole series. I'll give it a try. But maybe I should read Henning Mankell instead? My dad's into him, which I think is interesting: if I read Mankell, I would have discovered the Swedish author the "long route" through my dad in the Philippines reading English translations of the original Swedish. Talk about globalization.

And hey, dad: if you want to pick up Larsson's book, the English title is The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, and you can read about the Times Online review here. The Times seemed to have enjoyed the story more than I did though, but you can make your own mind about it.

See Tags: Food

Back in the saddle again

We had a fulfilling Easter weekend full of food and drink, lazy evenings reading in the balcony, and a fulfilling dose of exercise.


The weather was perfect all weekend long, and inspired by last weekend's trip to Linköping, we thought we'd take the chance of doing another bike tour, this time to Söderköping and back. After an early Black Saturday breakfast of 2 croissants each (fasting is not my thing), we pumped our tires and headed for the road.

A new feature in this bike tour are our new bike tires, which are thinner and therefore faster than our old ones. I roll – almost fly – without effort downhills, and I'd love to think that the tires make me faster uphills too, even if I'm not too sure. It's unbelievable what a new sensation of speed new tires can give.

A main highway, which is illegal to bike on, runs between Nörrköping and Söderköping, so we occasionally had to make use of smaller roads and dirt tracks again. At these places, it didn't seem to matter what tires we had; rocky roads are equally uncomfortable as long as you're biking faster than walking speed. It really feels like being joggled inside a salt-and-pepper shaker – even my jaw and arms were tense, especially along the rough stretch along Göta Canal, which by the way seemed endless.

There are rewards for going off the beaten path, though. Some forest scenes can really make you gape in awe. It's especially rewarding when you reach the top of a mountain and consider the scenery below: just with a little work and a two-wheeled machine, you realize that you've reached the top of something.


We also discovered this insanely steep, narrow and banked bit of asphalted forest road with a good view of the town below but which we deemed a little bit too dangerous to actually roll down on. We thought that it might be used it for car racing events, as the other end of the road led to a sandy rally track.


Upon reaching Söderköping and paying a short visit to our friend Gertie, we sat in the sun and enjoyed ice cream before taking a different route back home. The day's tour was over and we still had most of the afternoon to read and relax. Life is good.


On my next blog entry, I'll write about a great way to cook ribs (sorry, not about fish this time) and a Norwegian tradition of reading crime novels on Easter. But I've said enough for now and that's why I'm saving that for next time.

Have a good continued Easter week!

Food journal number 51: Swedish-style French fish soup

I promised in the last food journal that I would blog, among other things, about our attempts to eat more fish (we're in yet another one of our eat-healthy phases).

Fish is something I thought Sweden would have an overabundance of, before I moved here. I guess I was influenced by the fact that most salmon in the Philippines are labeled "Norwegian salmon". I thought Swedes – by extension to Norway, and by extension to Norwegian salmon – would have fishburger chains everywhere and fishmongers at every corner. Little did I know that the most popular dishes here are more likely meatballs or falukorv, and that it was easier to find a hotdog or pizza stand in the middle of nowhere than to find a "real" fish dish in a decent Chinese restaurant.

As it turns out, fish, especially fresh fish, is expensive as they have to be delivered inland. Some varieties are also endangered and therefore rare and expensive. And I thought I'd spend my first year here getting healthy and saving money on a fish diet. Oh, no.

But, good news! There's preserved fish! Frozen fish in a soup is today's topic, in the form of a Swedish-style French fish soup taken from one of Margareta's cookbooks. Frozen fish are not so good on their own (a bit on the dry side), so soups are in my opinion the best way to cook them.
Another good thing about this particular recipe is that the bulk of it can be prepared beforehand. On busy days, Margareta can serve this soup to guests and get positive feedback – from, among others, yours truly who copied the recipe. The original name in the book was French-Swedish fish soup (fransk-svensk fisksoppa). Which part of the soup is French and which part is Swedish is beyond me. However, it seems to be a good mix of both worlds. Definitely something that you can serve proudly to guests.

French-Swedish fish soup

600-700 grams cubed fish fillet (I used frozen salmon-, pangasius- and cod cubes from a bag)
400 grams shrimps
2 finely chopped onions
3 finely chopped garlic cloves
3 T olive oil
1 fennel bulb, cut in strips
1 large carrot, cut in thin slices
5 raw potatoes, cut in small cubes
1.2 liters water
3 fish bullion cubes (I used 2 fish cubes and 1 veggie cube)
1 t thyme
1 can whole tomatoes
salt and pepper to taste
1 sachet saffron (0.5 gram, but I used only half a sachet, .25g)
2 deciliters white white
juice of 1/2 orange

1. Prepare all the vegetables – or ask your boyfriend to do it :-D! In a large pot, sauté the garlic and onion together in oil (do not brown the garlic Filipino-style). Afterwards, add the fennel, carrot and potatoes. Add water and the broth cubes and thyme (I poured the water stages, not all at once – in the belief that it turns out better that way).

2. Open the can of whole tomatoes and cut the tomatoes with a pair of scissors in the can – the book suggested it was better this way than to use pressed tomatoes. Add this to the pot. Salt and pepper carefully and let boil. Simmer for 30 minutes.

3. When half the time is up, add the wine and saffron and let simmer again for the remaining time.

NOTE: Steps 1 to 3 can be made the day before, or several hours ahead if nescessary. At this point, I divided the broth in half, froze one half for future use and used the other half for step 4:

4. Add the fish. If the fish is fresh, add it when the broth is boiling hot and let simmer for 3-5 minutes, not more. Since I had frozen fish and wanted to make sure it was defrosted and cooked, I first let the fish simmer in the hot (but not boiling) broth for 4 minutes, put the temperature up and let it boil for another 2-3 minutes. I then let them rest in the hot broth away from the heat. If unsure, take out a fish piece and cut with a knife. Hard fish that breaks out in crumbs = overcooked. Firm fish that separates in big flakes = perfect.

Good with beer and garlic bread, but filling even on its own.

Bon appétit, or should I say, smaklig måltid! And have a good Easter weekend!

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See Tags: Food

Vårtecken = signs of spring

Spring officially starts when it has been plus-degrees for more than 7 consecutive days (even if it means 1 degree). This happened a few weeks back. The rising temperatures and more sun hours trigger signs of spring such as: use of roller skates, opening of ice cream bars, abandonment of winter clothing, the occasional sight of bare legs and the return of migratory birds from Africa. And did I forget to mention flowers growing?

All I want to do is bicycle!

We're sitting at home watching the Swedish hockey finals on TV, eating candy from a giant candy bag and drinking champagne-flavored tea. I've got my feet up on a chair. I'm as relaxed as a cat.

Who would have thought: just 24 hours ago, Marcus and I were trampling our fourth straight hour on our bicycles. We were nearing our destination after a long afternoon of biking. The low evening sun was in our eyes, and I swear my butt was starting to hurt from all that cycling!

Hour 4, Marcus is stretching his legs as we near our destination

That day, I started the morning with an hour of interval spinning at the gym I volunteer in: Eight minutes warm-up followed by four repetitions of 4 minutes hard cycling between 2 minutes "cycling down", four repetitions of 2 minutes hard cycling between 1 minute "cycling down", and five repetitions of 40-minute sprints between short 20-second rests. I met up with Marcus after lunch, and we began our 4 1/2 journey to Linköping by bike, making my day's total 5 1/2 hours of biking.

In our baskets, we had a map, lots of candy, more than 2 liters of water, a bike kit, extra socks, jackets in case we got cold, and clothes for the night. We would thank ourselves for packing light. The long road there isn't exactly flat; the first 10 or so kilometers in Norrköping are hilly. It didn't help that it was windy and that we were cycling against the wind. At the gas stations, the flags were all straight. No wonder that my bike, which usually rolls fast downhill, needed a little help trampling down. Uphills were also much harder than they should be with all the resistance. A few times, I felt that my legs would give up on me.

We survived, though, as we should. We biked to the same destination last year –when I fell and hurt my elbow – but back then we used different, more rugged route. This time, we also biked through farms and dirt roads (the mud also slowed us down some more), but mostly we tried to stay to the old highway, which explains our use of reflector vests. So don't worry, mom and dad, we're Mr. and Ms. Safety!

Marcus is also such a sport, and has been very inspiring through the whole trip. When I thought my butt was killing me or that the roads were too rocky, I only had to think that I wasn't alone in the whole thing. It was also extra beautiful to be biking leisurely together in scenic country roads. But when we passed other casual city cyclists, we had a common joy overtaking them and cycling fast – at least until we were out of sight of them. :-D


After about five candy breaks, a 6-minute burger break in a highway burger joint and four and a half hours of travel, we arrived to dinner south of Linköping, I relaxed my muscles in the sauna, and we had a good night's rest. It all seemed to work – I don't have a butt ache anymore.

We biked 59.5 kilometers. And according to Marcus' new pulse clock, we averaged 137 in pulse for all our active time cycling, and burned 2,470 calories each. More than a day's consumption for me, that is. Thank goodness for all that candy!

More pictures in my Multiply.