The walpurgis eve celebration on Riddarholmen, with Stadshuset in the background. Photos © Robert Corkery 2012.

Winter is done. Over. We burned it out of town last night. Today is valborg or May Day in Stockholm. It’s a holiday and last night was walpurgis eve or bonfire night. All over Sweden, fires were lit to burn off the last of winter and launch us into spring. Let’s hope it works. I like the symbolism of the night in all its many facets – that you are literally burning or getting rid of all the winter junk in your yard, including the branches and leaves, and I also like the idea of celebrating the move from one season to another. For students, valborg means freedom – exams are over and they are getting ready to graduate. And for me personally, I like the idea of getting rid of old baggage and moving on.

We went with a group of friends to the Valborgsmässoafton on Riddarholmen in the center of town. It was absolutely packed with people. Traditional songs of spring were sung as usual. But then, rather inexplicably, karaoke of the very worst kind started – sappy songs sung by people who can’t sing. And that’s when our group of eight decided it was time to move to the pub.

The pyre.

The crowd with Lake Mälaren and Södermalm in the background.

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Playing dress up at the mohippa studio.

We are so groovy. That's the bride on the right, by the way.

Meeting people I would not ordinarily have the chance to meet. That’s one of the best parts of living as an expat. On Friday night, I went to a möhippa – a bachelorette party. While I knew the bride and a handful of the other guests, I had never met most of the women before. But with that common link of being expats in Stockholm, we all connected during the course of the night and I had a blast. Plus, I met some amazing women.

Much like in the US, a möhippa is a big excuse to have fun with friends. We started the night at Mohippestudion, a party room designed for hen parties. While the bride got a makeover, the rest of us drank champagne and chatted. Then we all went into a giant closet where we got to change into outfits, shoes and accessories to pose in for a photographer.

Fueled by champagne and playing dress up, we had so much fun. I went for two groovy 1970s inspired outfits and one Marilyn Monroe dress. Next was dinner and American-style shower games. And we ended the evening at a local dance club. I was exhausted by the time it was all over. But I had a big smile on my face.

The möhippa group.

An international style Easter dinner.

“It was the strangest thing. We had the same food for Easter dinner that we had for Christmas.” So said Nici, a German friend who had dinner at her Swedish father-in-law’s house. And the rest of us all laughed. In sympathy. Because it’s true that here in Sweden, the same smörgåsbord meal is served up for every holiday celebration. Be it Easter, Christmas or midsommar, you can count on the the menu including pickled herring, snaps, salmon, Västerbotten cheese, hard bread, potatoes. It’s reassuringly predictable.

But because we cooked Easter dinner with a group of international friends consisting of just one Swede, one German, one Italian, one Australian and me, the American, we bucked tradition. As an appetizer, we had hummus, bread and olives and drank it with a prosecco that Roger had just brought back from Germany. The first course was a zucchini soup that Nici and Roger made out of vegetables from their garden last summer. For the main, Robert cooked New Zealand lamb, haricot verts, and roasted potatoes, carrots and sweet potatoes. And we served a bottle of Riesling that we had brought back from Australia with it. For dessert, Giorgio made panna cotta. It was a perfectly international combination. And very, very tasty. But now you can laugh: I did kind of miss the herring!

Easter eggs, including ones from Graeter's, a chocolate store in Cincinnati. I've had these eggs every year since I was a kid in my Easter basket. And my Mom still sends them to me.

Giorgios' panna cotta.

Easter witches looking for candies of any sort.

Easter feathers.

Today is långfredagen – long Friday – or good Friday as it’s known in much of the world. It’s a public holiday here and as with any weekend holiday, many people had a half work day yesterday and will also be off on Monday. We were out at Adam and Marie-Louise’s new house last night and just after we arrived, the Easter witches above came looking for treats. I’ve written before about the Easter witch and feather branches, so I won’t go into it again here.

It’s quiet in town. Not much is open. And it’s snowing buckets. Kind of nice.

A semla from Tössebageriet.

You have to give me credit for trying. I have never been a fan of semlor, but every year I feel this strange obligation to eat one again. So this year I thought I would up the ante and go to one of the best-rated semlor bakeries in town – Tössebageriet – and try one again.

A semla is a wheat bun spiced with cardamon that is filled with a mound of whipped cream and almond paste, looking very much like a pastry hamburger. Traditionally eaten on Fat Tuesday or Fettisdagen, semlor are now typically available in mid January. I ate my annual semla today as I will be in Sydney by then.

As for what I thought of this semla, I really do like the idea of Swedish semlor, but I am still not a fan of the cardamon or the wheat bun. And all that cream is just way too rich. So I ate half my semla. Maybe I’ll do the rest later.

By the way, I’ve written of my trials with the semlor before, comparing them to king cake and to a cream-filled hamburger.

“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 made pancakes for breakfast this morning. As I created the mix from scratch, following the classic Betty Crocker cookbook recipe, I couldn’t help but be reminded of home. As in the US. Pancakes were so much a part  of my childhood breakfast memories. But they weren’t for everyday breakfast. Rather, pancakes were what my brothers and I ate on the weekends or for holidays like Christmas. Cereal was what we typically had during the week. (And for years, the cereal I ate was either Cheerios or Captain Crunch.)

By the way, American-style pancakes have baking powder in them and are thus fat and fluffy. I always ate them with butter and maple syrup. In contrast, Swedish pancakes or pannkakor are thin and more like what I would call a crepe. And they are very much a part of tradition too – on Thursdays, Swedes like to have pea soup with pancakes and lingonberry jam for lunch. As I am not much of a pea soup fan, this is not a tradition that I have embraced!

The front of NK.

Every year, the department store NK decks out their windows with creative visions of Christmas. It’s a big tradition and Stockholmers young, old and in between line up in front of the store to see each display window. I always look forward to seeing what’s there. This year, there is a clever Santa’s workshop theme and the Santa getting dressed display in particular made me laugh with the collection of neoprene suits – one with high heel boots –  in the wardrobe. Who knew that Santa could be so feisty?

Inside NK, the Christmas tree.

The crowds in front of the windows.

Santa and his wardrobe dilemma of what suit to wear. I love the slippers!

Santa must be like an octopus and have many arms so that he can get everything done before Christmas.

The holiday sweet table.

The super-size tree along Skeppsbron on Gamla Stan. And that's a boat behind the tree, by the way.

On snowy/rainy Sunday, we also stopped to see the Gamla Stan julgran or Christmas tree. It’s a big one – I made Robert pose in front of it to show just how huge it is. The big circles to the left of the tree are the fat snowflakes that landed on my camera lens. And the shot below is of Väasterlånggatan, the main shopping street in the old town. I love the very simple holiday lights.

Västerlånggatan– long west street – on Gamla Stan.

The waffle booth.

We had to try a waffle topped with blueberries.

The julmarknad.

On Sunday, we walked to the Gamla Stan market. In terms of the markets in central Stockholm, I like this one best as it feels like you’ve stepped back in time. It’s perfectly located on the square Stortorget  in the center of the old town and is surrounded by buildings that date back to the 16th century – Stockholm itself was founded here in 1252.

The red wooden booths at the julmarknad or hoiday market have vendors selling waffles, sausages, glögg (hot mulled wine), candies, hot dogs, fuzzy sheepskin slippers, ornaments and more. The market tends to get crowded, but I think that just adds to the fun.

Glögg being served from a take-away window at one of the nearby cafes.

Holiday rolls and breads.

Ornaments.

Cured meats and sausages, including reindeer.

Polkagrisar or candy canes.