Best of Sweden:: cinnamon buns

I had not been in this country long before I noticed a certain sweet bun showing up in cafes, cooling on racks in Erik's mamma's home, and sitting on platters waiting for children to arrive home from the first day of school. Kanelbullar is the relative of the American sticky bun, but it is a less sweet, more every-day-edible version. They go particularly well with coffee when you need a bit of something to eat. Today I got the urge to bake them, and here is the recipe I used. I made half the buns filled with cinnamon, half with cardamon (a delicious but very under-appreciated spice in my opinion).

Bullar
1 pkg (2 1/4 t) dry active yeast
3/4 c butter
1 1/2 c milk
1/2 c sugar
1/2 t salt
3-4 c flour

Melt the butter on the stove, then add the milk and heat to luke-warm. Mix in a bowl with the yeast, add the sugar, salt and flour, and knead this dough for about 8 min. by hand.
Let rise under a towel in a warm place for 30 min.

Divide the risen dough into 2 balls and knead for a couple minutes. Then roll out each ball into a rectangle, about 1/4 thick. On this place the filling, strewn evenly over:

1/3 c butter, room temp.
1/3 c sugar
2 t cinnamon or cardamon

Roll the dough long-ways and cut into 12 or so pieces. Set them on a baking sheet and let rise under a towel for 45 min.

Mix together 1 egg and a bit of water, brush over the top of the buns, then sprinkle pearl sugar over them. Bake at 425 for 5-6 minutes. Keep a close eye so they don't burn!

Brew a pot of strong coffee and enjoy with your warm bullar!

my thoughts have been of spring

These are my front porch steps right now. I'm a terribly lazy snow shoveler. I just push the snow back with the door until it gets too high. Perhaps my lazniess is really just an inner hope that a warmish day (above freezing maybe?) will surely come soon and melt it all away.

I'll confess. I am really dying for spring. Thank goodness I love all-things-wool-and-knitted or else i may never make it through winter. But I find myself longing for linen and thin cotton and summer dresses like these gorgeous outfits....But it goes beyond wishes for fancy summer clothes. No, my main desire is for the garden. I loooong for those dirty knees, those sun-kissed cheeks, and those laughing fits that occur when one is weeding parallel rows with a fellow farmer. This summer I'll be joining my dearest sister and friend Rebecca and her fantasic husband Joe on their farm in Minnesota. As I write I'm listening to an interview that the 2 of them participated in recently at the annual L'abri conference held in Minnesota. What a couple. They love each other, love what they do, and their life is a real display of the truth that

"He makes grass grow for the cattle, and plants for man to cultivate--bringing forth food from the earth: wine that gladdens the heart of man, oil to make his face shine, and bread that sustains his heart." Psalm 104:14,15

Best of Sweden:: fresh-air people

Well, the Swedish word is friluftsmänniskor, meaning "free air human beings." oh, I think Swedish is such a funny language. So "viking" and primitive sometimes. For example, the word for "grass" is gräs and the word for "weed" is ogräs meaning "not grass." :)

Anyway, these people are so INSPIRING. Especially in the winter, when all I want to do is huddle inside in a refuge of candles and coffee, they are excited about the ice, snow, and all the wondrous winter sports now made possible. Swedes really do love nature, and they love being outside. The countryside is pristine, untouched, and accessible with trails and ski-tracks galore. Last week I had the epiphany that this love of fresh air and winter activity is indeed the only way to remain sane through the long winters here. I have never had to be told to get outside....it's my favorite place to be....but I felt a renewal to be more active and sporty. So we went ice-skating last week....2 times! Erik and I felt so hardcore, and so deserving of the coffee and chocolate and lazy evening we partook of upon returning home.We had these classic, never improved upon speed skates....simple long blades that you snap onto your boot. You go faster than a bicyle when you really get going! Half of Uppsala was on the lake when we were there. And parents with small children never let that stop them from getting out. I saw more new baby-carrying contraptions, more sheep skin lined sleds than ever before. So hard-core!! Needless to say, one cannot feel more Swedish than donning some skates, heading outside, and of course, bringing along a thermos of coffee for the essential (and let's admit it, best part) stop for fika. The picture below, snapped at a local museum, captures so perfectly these outdoor people of the North. Perhaps their lack of nice weather makes them grateful for any bearable conditions in which to head outside. :)

The 2 and 4

I had such a pleasant day on the 11th of February that I must share. It included all the special touches that birthdays should have.
I don't usually splurge on buying fruit (i know buying fruit seems more like a normal, healthy part of the human diet than a splurge, but for this mostly seasonal-eater with a small bank account, it is) so a bowl of blood oranges appeared in my kitchen.

Flowers were given. Lilies that smell amazing and look nice all week.




I opened some real, non-email cards (such a rarity and such a luxury), and a set of these knitting needles (yes, a certain someone has actually been listening when I go on rants about my wish list from the knitting world). And I opened a package from Minnesota....a gorgeous hand-dyed, hand-spun, hand-knitted cowl from my talented sister Becca.
And I even got a surprise present from someone who didn't even know it was my birthday. Christina, a beautiful Swedish woman with several grandchildren, is one of my students in the English literature class I teach on Wednesday nights. At coffee break time, she wondered out loud if anyone was interested in getting a hat she had knit for herself but which didn't fit right. In .5 seconds I reasoned if i don't take the initiative here, this hat could end up being claimed by someone who doesn't really want it, but who might take it just because, and then I'd feel too awkward to admit how much I really wanted it. So I marched up with ooohs and ahhs to take a look, and once the 4 other grandmothers in the class insisted I try it on and praised how nicely it fit me, it was securely mine. I couldn't help saying, after profusely thanking Christina for this hat which was just the style I'd been wanting to knit for myself, that it was actually my birthday anyway, so how perfect! At this my ladies burst into congratualtions and birthday wishes. What sweeties.Thanks to everyone who made me feel loved and appreciated last week! I am blessed much more than I even realize to have such wonderful people as you in my life.

Best of Sweden:: röd

This week, without intention, I noticed my camera filling up with pictures that contained a common theme: the color red. This color is very swedish to me. Many barns and houses are painted a certain color which is an all-natural paint extracted from copper mines in Sweden. When mom came to visit last spring her mission was to buy this paint color. Unfortunatly the locals didn't recommend it for painting her dining room walls....it's a powder and would likely rub a coppery-color onto Sunday guests' clothes.

Sometimes you just need to bake a carrot cake with cream cheese icing for no special reason. And these coffee cups are red. That's how they got into the blog. I love them and they make every fika experience more satisfying.

Some of these pictures were taken at the bus stop. When I had 5 minutes to wait. And I hate wasting time, so I tromped off into the snow, got too excited, took too many pictures and missed the bus. Dang and blast, I was really mad. But now I have these nice pictures and memories. It was worth it looking back.

how to survive winter

Wear scarves. All the time. Especially of the hand-knitted variety.
And be with friends.

And even though it's tempting to keep all that knitting-goodness for yourself, knit for your sleepy, chilly friends.

Best of Sweden:: wool

I've decided to start something like a series on this little attempt of a blog. I've noticed the cool bloggers do it anyway. The topic is Sweden, and it will highlight some of the things about this part of the globe that I have grown to love and appreciate in their uniqueness and "swedishness." I've been reflecting that it's easy to become so used to where you live, be it abroad or in the same town where you grew up, that you stop noticing the everyday things. The particular nature and landscape, that old building in town, the local quirks of the people. Everyplace has it's appreciable characteristics.

That intro being said, I love that there is so much wool in Sweden. In this cold climate, you find every small town has a yarn shop, and any random market is compromised of half yarn/wool/sheepskin vendors. Just today I was on the bus to go teach when i noticed a market on the big square in town. As the bus zoomed past, I was alarmed I hadn't heard that this market would be there. I let out a sharp intake of breath at the sight of piles of soft sheepskins. I was planning on heading straight by. But I made the quick decision that the school could wait. I jumped off at the next stop and entered the world of warm mittens, felted hats, and scandinavian sweaters. OK, there was also a donut stand and a lady selling spandex longjohns. But I only had eyes for the handmade. And by the providence of God I resisted buying the ridiculously cheap yarn, only because I had not one bit of cash on me. So I used the opportunity to be inspired instead. That's always free.