There are few events more spectacularly over-the-top American as the Super Bowl. Even though I would by no means call myself a football fan – I played soccer, basketball and softball – I always watched the Super Bowl. Correction. I was in a room where the game was on and I at times watched the game. More often than that given the social person that I am, I just enjoyed the spectacle and the party. When I was a kid, my Dad always barbecued steaks and we would have snacks throughout the game. Later, I went to parties with friends. I’m not sure when salsa, guacamole and chips became the must-have snacks. Nor can I really say when the commercials became THE thing to watch. But I do know that they are all as much a part of the tradition as the game itself.

Even though the game time here in Stockholm was after midnight, I watched for a while. And it did make me laugh to hear the Swedish commentators talk about the game in Swedish. But I fell asleep on the couch before halftime. So I just watched the Madonna performance this morning – it seemed like a fine performance and very visual, but nothing as over the top as I might have expected. I watched a few of the commercials and while I have not seen them all yet, I did love the Ferris Bueller ad for Honda and the VW one with the dog getting back in shape. I’ll have to get back in touch with my American heritage and watch some more later.

The colorful changing huts on Brighton Beach in Melbourne.

It’s snowing here in Stockholm, so I am distracting myself with thinking about our upcoming trip down under. And as today is Australia Day – Australia’s national day –  I pulled out some photos from the archives. I chose the one above because what could be more Australian than going to the beach and enjoying the sunshine and surf? And then I couldn’t resist adding the one below because if you are going to spend the day at the beach, than you want the famous lifeguards there to save you, of course, than that led me to thinking of the budgie smugglers. The budgie smuggler is a Speedo type swimsuit that was given this illustrious name as the “bump” in the front is said to resemble a budgie or budgerigar, better known to most of us as a parakeet.

The Australian Budgie smuggler.

Finally, I had to add in the photo of the meat pie and beer, a classic meal combination in the land down under. Now I have to thank my Australian husband Robert for leading me down this road of Australiana. He will try to deny this, but he did play me a number of classic Australian songs from the 70s and 80s last night, including Eagle Rock by Daddy Cool. Oh my.

A meat pie and Tasmanian beer. Yum.

Robert's salmon and fish soup.

When I first moved to Stockholm, I did not like salmon. At all. But salmon is extremely popular in Sweden and was served at EVERY dinner party we went to. I didn’t want to be rude, so I would ask for just a small piece and force myself to eat it with copious amounts of potato to mask the taste.

Salmon made me feel like that annoying kid that I was who refused to eat just about everything: fish, peas, lima beans, hot dogs, hamburgers, bananas. The list of my dislikes was endless. Dinner was an ordeal that I tried to get through by creatively hiding peas under my mashed potatoes and by taking a big mouthful of something disgusting and then spitting it into my napkin and dropping it on the floor for the dog to eat.

I longed for a dog to sit by my side on those salmon nights. But then at some point over the years, I realized I could tolerate the salmon. It’s not one of my favorite foods, but I actually like it now. I especially like it in fish soup and Robert makes an amazingly good one with chunks of fresh salmon, mini shrimp and vegetables.

I guess you could say that eating salmon is just one of the many ways Sweden has had an influence on me.

“Lagom is driving me crazy.” When a Norwegian American woman said this last night, the entire group of 20  laughed. I was at an event for the American Women’s Club welcoming newcomers to Sweden. Introductions were being made and everyone was sharing where she was from, how long she had lived in Sweden and how she was doing in her new homeland.

We all laughed, because we all got it. Even if you’ve only lived in Sweden for a few weeks, it’s likely that you’ve run into lagom. Pronounced LAW-gohm, the word has no exact equivalent in English, but is typically defined as “everything in moderation.”  Basically, everyone has enough and no one goes without. It’s a cultural philosophy and a code of behavior all at once. At heart, the word connotes restraint. There is an appropriate balance for all things.

For immigrants to Sweden, lagom effects them in all sorts of everyday ways: there are not as many brands at the grocery store, there are only two or three selections to choose from on a dagens or daily lunch menu, portion sizes in restaurants are smaller. In the office, it means decisions are made not by individuals but as a group and that a Swedish employee wil leave at 5 because their work is done for the day even if there is a big deadline to meet.

Most Americans are hardwired to NOT be lagom. We strive to stand out, to be the best, to make our mark. On my first day on the job in Sweden, a Swedish coworker asked, “Why are all Americans so loud? They hurt my ears.” She then quickly followed up with, “You’re not like other Americans!”

When you move to a new country, you tend to spend a lot of time learning the new language in an effort to fit in. But fitting into a society also requires understanding the cultural rules of a society and how to behave.  You have to know that when you visit a Swedish home, you are expected to take off your outside shoes at the door. If you don’t, you can be thought of as rude.

As for me in Sweden, I’ve had a long love/hate relationship with lagom. I like the concept of lagom in some ways, but it also gets on my nerves. Over the years, I’ve written about it many, many times before on this blog, exploring it from how others define lagom,  how Swedes define it and  jantelagen and  also from how I am not so lagom.

I’ve been back in the US a week now, but I’m still getting adjusted. Quite simply, I’m not used to all the customer service and causal friendliness. Free refills on drinks, waiters checking back at the table to see if I need anything else and chatting casually about the weather or the holidays or whatever. At the movies yesterday, there were even free popcorn refills. At lunch, the waiter brought me a cup of soup to try because my friend had one too.  When I’m out walking in my parent’s neighborhood, just about everyone I pass either nods or says hello or comments in some way. Working in their yard on Saturday, passersby waved or said hi. It feels like home. But also because I’m just not used to all this attention and service in Stockholm, it also gets overwhelming. And that feels weird to me.

The turkey was 22 pounds.

I had to put a little of everything on my plate.

It was a classic Thanksgiving. Of course, there was turkey. We had a 22-pounder. And there were mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberries, sweet potatoes, gravy and stuffing. Pumpkin and pecan pie. There was family too – my parents, brothers and their wives and kids. Football was on the television and also tossed around in the yard too.

There was a lot to be thankful for, including being surrounded by family and having a lovely meal. I forgot to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, but I did see the Charlie Brown special. Perhaps not surprisingly, I did have the usual turkey hangover. I think we all did. Well, except for my nieces and nephews. Nothing seemed to effect their energy and ability to run around the house.

My nieces drew hand turkeys for everyone.

It's the discreet, you can use it at the office version from Groupon?

I’ve been having a lot of “you wouldn’t  see that in the US” moments lately, mostly in regard to Swedish advertising. After last week’s hot father’s day ad for Dressmann underwear, I’ve seen a few more interesting promotion choices.  Groupon – the site for cheap deals in your town – had a special sale on a “Trust in Lust” vibrator. First of all, I laughed that you could buy this on Groupon. And secondly,  the photo of the trust in lust – which incidentally is cleverly designed to look like a lipstick – sitting next to a laptop is hilarious in all its implications. And even more amusing, the trust in lust is advertised as a julklapps tips or Christmas present tip. Somehow, I just don’t think that Groupon Cincinnati would advertise a vibrator as a Christmas gift!

My other advertising laugh on billboards around town was for South Park. It shows Kenny and the gang with the pitch: “Three half men and a fat ass.” I’m sorta embarrassed to say that the sheer audacity of the ad made me laugh. Again, I’m guessing that this is not an ad campaign that would run in the US. But maybe I’m off base. It’s been a long time since I lived there.

My version of Cincinnati chili.

Where I come from, this is a 3-way. Specifically, it’s chili served up over spaghetti noodles and topped off with grated cheese. If you want a 4-way, you will get either onions or beans added. And for a 5-way, you will get both onions and beans. On the side are salty oyster crackers. To most of the world, this is one bizarre combination. But to Cincinnatians, it’s normal stuff.

Cincinnati chili is not a typical chili con carne, but more of a meat sauce. Rumor has it that the minced beef is flavored with cinnamon and chocolate. Depending on your loyalties, you eat your Cincinnati chili at one of two chains: Skyline or Gold Star. For me, it’s Skyline all the way as I worked there during university.

By the way, I must have been craving a taste of home yesterday as I made some Cincinnati style chili here in Stockholm. I had a packet of the Cincinnati spice mix but instead of ground beef, I used tofu. It was really good. But don’t tell my Cincinnati friends – I’m pretty sure they would consider the tofu substitution to be heresy.

A packet of Cincinnati chili spices.

I am in a food coma of epic proportions. This afternoon, I went to the annual Thanksgiving luncheon of the American Women’s Club. And oh my, it was good. We had turkey, stuffing, mashed sweet potato, gravy and vegies. Cranberries too. And there was apple pie and something that I think was supposed to be a take off on pecan pie but that was really kind of a gooey mess of carmel goodness instead. And while the Swedish chefs really don’t get how to make stuffing, everything was so very good. Hence my current inability to work productively.

But I am oh so happy. Thanksgiving is home to me. I suppose it just shows you can take the girl out of the US, but you can’t take the American out of the girl.

There were lanterns hanging in the windows at the Wardhus on Sandhamn.

The one good thing about the dark winter in Sweden is candles. This country is candle crazy.

When it’s dark, people bring out all the candles – and by this I mean that they use them all the time, buying them in packs of 100 at IKEA. By this time of year, every home and apartment dweller has them out on their tables and windows. Cafes, bars and restaurants also place candles on the tables and in the windows. Even my gym has lit candles at the check-in counter. And stores and restaurants sit bigger candles outside their doors to welcome people in. It’s all very cozy. And very necessary to ward off the evil darkness.