an open cupboard

Not far from the farmer’s market is Söderhallarna, Södermalm’s answer to the grand Östermalms Saluhall. Like Östermalms Saluhall, Söderhallarna features a number of small specialty shops, restaurants, take-out shops, and coffee shops all conveniently located under one roof.

Outside Söderhallarna is Medborgarplatsen, the nucleus of Södermalm nightlife. By nightfall, the square is overflowing with well-dressed people having a drink, standing in line for a show at the Debaser, or on their way in or out of one of the myriad clubs in the area. Beer is everywhere, especially in the Tunnelbana station, where patient police officers confiscate bottles and pour their contents out over the tracks. A Greek fast food truck and a hot dog stand provide quick snacks for what appear to be the two hundred people queuing up to the Debaser.

In the morning, the fast food stands are the only remnants of last night’s scene. The square is now home to shoppers, families, and political parties lobbying for votes in the upcoming elections with their cabins and posters.

A bakery, featuring central European style breads. Note the poppyseed challah second to the left.

The poultry section of a butcher shop. The yellow-skinned chickens on the left were raised on corn.

A confectioner’s shop.

Fresh torteloni and canneloni.

The meat shop where I bought dried reindeer sausage.

The butcher shop’s takeout section, featuring pana cotta with cloudberries, various types of terrines, pâtés and mousses, as well as truffles.

Cured meats at the butcher shop. The long, brown sausages in the middle are dried reindeer sausages.

I love the old-fashioned packaging used to wrap these sweets. The yellow ones are cloudberry candies.

An array of sauces and dressings at a gourmet shop.

No, it isn’t matzah. It’s Swedish flatbread!

A greengrocer’s. The weird-looking pipes above the apples and lemons are misters.

A row of political party “cabins” in front of Söderhallarna and an outdoor nursery.

Tables from a restaurant in Söderhallarna and political party cabins. According to Anne, people bid for the cabins after the elections and use them as sheds in their back yards.

Medborgarplatsen at night, with Söderhallarna in the background.

Outdoor restaurants and pubs in Medborgarplatsen.

Links:

• Söderhallarna
• P & B Delikatesser—Spices, oils, sauces, jams, and sweets.
  
• Lulles FÃ¥gel & Vilt—Deli and butcher shop.

I happened upon a lovely outdoor market near the Medborgarplatsen area of Södermalm on Saturday. Södermalm is sort of Stockholm’s answer to the Village in Manhattan, or Haight-Ashbury before it became a completely gentrified parody of itself. In Söder—as it’s called by Stockholmers—you’ll find strange characters and hipsters, artists and boutique owners, and some of the coolest clubs and bars. (I’m amused to no end by the names of some Stockholm establishments. For example, a bar called “Dickens” featuring a likeness of the famous writer on its sign and a menu completely unrelated to England in the Industrial Age). That said, Södermalm is actually composed of a number of neighborhoods, only a couple of which I’ve really explored.

Getting back to the market near Medborgarplatsen… I was on my way to my favorite little Södermalm boutique when I spotted a stall selling fruits and vegetables. Aha, an outdoor market! Naturally, I had to check it out and take surreptitious photos when nobody was looking.

Södermalmers are a lucky bunch. The market includes both organic and conventional foods, including produce, meats, cheeses, sausages, seafood, bread, honey, natural body care products, and wool rugs. Everything is meticulously fresh and appetizing, and the shoppers are amusingly organized in their browsing. When the market gets a little crowded, people instinctively queue up to get through the long, relatively narrow row of market stalls. No elbows are used here, and the sellers quietly explain their wares to curious customers.

Had I stayed longer in Stockholm, I could have easily bought quite a lot. Here are my photos:

Gorgeous green beans.

This is the bread guy, captured from an angle because I was too embarassed to photograph him head on. He sells delicious whole grain rye breads, which I was tempted to take back to California. These very fresh breads probably wouldn’t have survived the trip.

Beautiful fresh carrots. Swedish carrots are the best I’ve ever tasted.

This fellow only sells fresh corn, and he’s got a large corn plant to prove it. Passing his stand, I wondered whether his corn is non-GMO.

Pickled crayfish, just the thing for a weekend crayfish party. In Sweden, crayfish season is greeted with crayfish parties, where crayfish is consumed by revelers wearing crayfish hats.

The goat cheese stand. The cheese tastes like a mild chevre, but is packed in olive oil labneh-style.

Squash, heralding the arrival of autumn.

Herbs for your kitchen garden.

The outdoor market includes several meat stalls, each focusing on a different type of meat, among them turkey and pork. These charcuterie are made of wild boar (vildsvin, right?).

Fresh jams and juices made from a variety of berries.

A variety of preserved vegetables, probably an important staple in the old days before refrigerated imports. It’s nice to see this tradition alive and well in an outdoor market.

These photos are of Östermalms Saluhall, a gourmet food hall in the upscale region of Östermalm. The hall includes a variety of stalls, including a bakery, confectionary, greengrocers, fishmongers, butchers, and cheese shops. There are stalls that sell homemade goods like Swedish meatballs, quiches, potato puffs, pâtés, and fish spreads. Östermalms Saluhall also has restaurants, including both Japanese smørrebrød eateries. A coffee and tea shop offers an extensive variety of both purveyors of caffeine.

Fresh cloudberries in their own juice.

Cakes at a confectioner’s stall.

A fishmonger’s stall.

Crayfish

Havskräftor, of course. I’m guessing they’re langoustines.

American and Nordic lobsters, from the Atlantic and Northern Atlantic, respectively.

Fresh hazelnuts. Who knew?

Nuts (not sure what kind… anyone?). A few almonds thrown in for good measure.

A box of famously delicious new potatoes. The grocer said they need to be refrigerated for optimal freshness and flavor.

Cabbage plants for sale at an outdoor nursery right outside of Östermalms Saluhall. According to the Vasa Museum, growing cabbage is an old Swedish tradition.

This week I did my grocery shopping at Berkeley Bowl, a local supermarket specializing in high quality, local foods and produce. Parking at Berkeley Bowl is akin to scoring tickets to the Stones and travelling back in time to watch them perform before Mick Jagger had grandkids and Keith Richards started falling out of palm trees. OK, so I’m exaggerating a little, but you do need a lot of patience as Berkeley Bowl is a very popular place to shop.

Despite the maddening crowds, I like going to Berkeley Bowl every so often to peruse their enormous produce section. They tend to carry a variety of fruit and veg that you’d often find only at ethnic markets, such as Armenian cucumbers and a pretty good variety of Chinese greens. Whenever I go, I try to buy at least one vegetable or fruit that I’ve never tried before, even if I have no idea what it is or how to prepare it. Sometimes a fellow shopper or an employee will offer advice as to traditional methods of preparation.

The photo at the top of this post illustrates most of the unusual vegetables I bought this week. They include, from left to right:

• Tindora cucumbers—These are related to the ordinary cucumber, with a sort of cucumber-zucchini flavor. You’re supposed to cook them before eating. Their flesh looks like that of a tiny cucumber, sort of opaque white. If they’re red on the inside, they’re overripe and should be discarded. Tindora cucumbers are native to Indian cuisine, and are often cooked in curries.
• Edible roses—These miniature roses were just too cute not to buy. You can use them in salads, or as a garnish. I turned them into dessert. Stay tuned for the recipe later this week.
• Sea beans/sea pickle—These are thin, green plants that look like tiny cacti and taste like the sea. Good for salads.
• Yin choy—Chinese spinach. I was won over by the lovely purple-green hue of this vegetable. I’m always curious about the myriad Chinese greens I find at Berkeley Bowl and Chinese markets, but I don’t often know what to do with them. Bok choy, tatsoi, and choy sum are fairly well known items on Chinese restaurant menus, but all those other greens are rather mysterious to those who are otherwise uninitiated in the endless splendor of traditional Chinese cuisines. I often try to buy a bunch of unknown greens and figure out what to do with them later. They look so pretty and succulent on the shelf, there’s no way I couldn’t buy some.
• Nagaimo—Japanese mountain yam. A Berkeley Bowl employee told me this vegetable is eaten raw in Mexico, sliced and seasoned with a little salt and fresh lemon juice. “Like jicama,” he said. This is a peculiar looking vegetable, sort of radish-like but with rough little brown “hairs” on its skin.
• Breadfruit—In the photo below, you’ll see the breadfruit I found at the exotic fruit section. I had no idea how to choose one, so I picked one up and smelled the stem. It smelled faintly of bananas. Cutting it open at home, I realized it was underripe. A Google search informed me that this is the fruit’s ideal state. In Africa, breadfruit is roasted whole in a fire and eaten with butter and salt, like potatoes. It might also be simmered in coconut milk by itself or with pieces of smoked pork.

Here’s how I prepared the breadfruit:

I roasted the breadfruit halves in the oven at 375° F until they were lightly golden. I then separated the flesh from the skin, which I chopped into large, bite-sized pieces. The breadfruit chunks went into a small pot, were covered with coconut milk (about 3/4 of a can), and simmered until the coconut milk boiled.

Seasoned with salt and pepper, breadfruit in coconut milk is a satisfying, rich side dish. The breadfruit is starchy, like potatoes, but with a firmer flesh. Its flavor is mild and slightly sweet, and which the coconut milk complements nicely.

I once read an article about a butcher who was famous for his burgers. His trick was to include minced berries in the ground meat. He used the fruit to enhance flavor and keep the meat moist, but it turns out that cherries provide a health benefit as well. Probably because of their high antioxidant levels, cherries slow spoilage in meat and also help prevent carcinogens from forming when cooking the burgers on high heat. Naturally, I had an “aha!” moment when I brought home cherries and ground meat from the farmer’s market this week.

You don’t really taste the cherries in the burgers, but the meat is noticeably moist and ever so slighly tart (in a good way). The burgers are nice on their own, or on a pain de mie bun with a little mustard. They would go well with sliced red onions, or pickled red onions and a bit of Romaine lettuce. It might be fun to experiment with different types of berries, such as blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, even strawberries (I wonder how much berry you can use in the burgers without affecting flavor and texture?). Here’s a burger that needs no ketchup.

Cherry Burgers

10 cherries, pitted
4 cloves garlic
1 lb lean ground meat
2-4 TBS melted butter
a couple pinches of baharat spice mix
salt and pepper to taste

• Process the cherries and garlic in a food processor, or chop finely with a knife. You want the cherries and garlic to be finely minced, but not dripping with juice.
• In a large bowl, combine the meat, cherry garlic mixture, spices, and melted butter.
• Place a large cast-iron pan over medium-high heat and place some butter in the pan.
• Make a bite sized burger and cook it in the pan. Taste the burger and correct seasoning accordingly.
• Shape the meat into burgers and fry them in the pan.
• Flip when browned, then lower flame to medium. Cook to desired level of doneness.

Serves 2-3

Local links:

• Pain de mie burger buns from Acme
• Meat from Prather Ranch
• Cherries and garlic from a number of growers at the farmer’s market

In the spirit of local food month, I’d like to recommend some great local foods produced within 100 miles of the San Francisco bay area. Well, almost. Yerba Santa dairy is 132 miles away from my house–I Google mapped it (why yes, I am a geek!). But I think that’s close enough.

Yerba Santa Goat Dairy: Chevre and Bodega Goat Cheeses

I tasted Yerba Santa’s goat cheeses recently at the San Francisco Ferry Building farmer’s market. Both are fresh cheeses made of raw goat’s milk. The chevre is slightly crumbly, with a texture similar to that of farmer’s cheese. The Bodega is more of a spread.

Initially, both cheeses are sweet and mild, like cow’s milk. They finish with a soft tanginess, the kind you usually taste in goat’s milk cheeses, but much more subtle. This surprised me, as goat cheeses are usually so dominant. I do enjoy strong, tangy goat cheeses, but Yerba Santa’s cheeses stand out with their unusually delicate goat milk flavor. The chevre is delicious by itself, on a slice of bread, or crumbled over some pasta, polenta, or grilled vegetables. The Bodega is flavored with cilantro and green chile, a combination which dairyman Daniel Salmon says came to him in a dream. The combination of flavors is startlingly harmonious. The heat of the chile, the slightly bitter, slightly grassy cilantro, and the soft goat cheese all blend together wonderfully on the tongue. Try spreading it on a slice of thick country bread topped with cucumber slices. Dreamy indeed.

Spring Hill Dairy: Cultured Jersey Butter

Spring Hill Dairy produces possibly the yellowest butter I’ve ever seen that isn’t artificially hued. (Aside from making very pretty butter, the bright yellow color might indicate a very well grazed herd of Jersey cows.) If you buy from Spring Hill’s stall at the farmer’s market, there’s a good chance the butter is less than two days old. This is perhaps the freshest butter you can find, unless you live on a farm. The butter has a very high butterfat content, giving it a creamy, smooth texture that spreads better and melts faster. The salted butter is very lightly salted, such that you can use it for savory or sweet dishes. Its flavor is sweet with a very slight, pleasant tang from the cultures added to the cream. Spring Hill sells the butter by the pound and half pound. You’d think a pound might be too much (as I did), but it really isn’t. The dairy employee who sold me the butter assured me that its low moisture content allows it to freeze very well. If you somehow manage not to eat this butter on a daily basis, you can chop it into large, plastic-wrapped chunks and freeze it.

I have sinned. Majorly. May is local food month, which I’ve been celebrating weekly at the San Francisco Ferry Building and Berkeley farmer’s markets. The growers have brought in some beautiful produce, such as sweet, juicy asparagus and German mountain spinach, which is local, despite its name. But this weekend, deterred by the rain, I went to Berkeley Bowl instead. I know, it was only a drizzle. But going to the farmer’s market at the end of May in northern California on a drizzly, gray day is just… wrong. Don’t you think? Berkeley Bowl’s a different sort of mecca, and they carry quite a bit of local foods, right? So off I went.

I returned with spring treasures: raspberries, blueberries, asparagus, even a couple of peaches and nectarines. I also bought fresh porcini mushroom stalks and fiddleheads. Having read about fiddleheads on Mighty Foods recently, I’ve been itching to find some and cook them up. I’ve read they taste somewhat asparagus-like, which is always a good thing. However, I had no idea they were harvested in New England. Oops. I proceeded to cook the fiddleheads with porcini stalks (possibly local), organic boneless skinless chicken thighs (Oregon), and Rustichella d’Abruzzo lemon fettuccine (Italy), thus far my favorite brand of overpriced definitely not locally produced pasta. I’ve been a bad, bad foodblogger.

But hey, if Pim can dis packaged organic food, I can cook a very un-local lunch during local food month. Well, just this once.

Guilty global fiddleheads with porcini stalks, chicken, and lemon fettuccine

1 pkg (250 gr.) lemon fettuccine from Italy, cooked, drained, and tossed with butter, with some cooking water reserved
butter
3 boneless, skinless chicken thighs from Oregon
1/4 a medium eggplant, chopped into 1 inch cubes
1/2 lb fiddleheads from New England, trimmed
several asparagus stalks, trimmed and chopped into longish 1.5 inch pieces
1/8 lb porcini stalks, halved lengthwise and sliced
3 small cloves purple garlic
a splash of Sherry from Spain
a grating of Laguiole cheese from France

- Heat enough butter (on medium heat) in a large enameled braising pan to cover the bottom of the pan. Season the chicken with salt and pepper on both sides.
- Brown the chicken well and place on a plate to drain. Cut the chicken into bite size pieces. Alternatively, you could do this the other way around. The chicken would probably brown faster.
- In the same pan, toss in the eggplant pieces and stir.
- When the eggplant is golden, add in the fiddleheads and asparagus. Cook for a minute and add in the porcini stalks and stir.
- Cook for a minute, then add in the chicken.
- Pour in a splash of Sherry and stir, carefully scraping up the browned bits. Cook until the chicken is cooked through and the fiddleheads and asparagus are bright green and still crunchy.
- Correct the seasoning and toss with pasta, adding a bit of cooking water to moisten.
- Grate cheese on top and serve.

Serves 2

Tasting notes: The fiddleheads were refreshingly crunchy, with a contrasting texture provided by the little curled fern leaves comprising the fiddle’s head. They did taste somewhat like asparagus, but less sweet than really fresh asparagus. The porcini stalks were pleasantly porcini-like, which is to say they weren’t quite as porcini as they should have been. Seeing as they were sold capless, I presume they didn’t represent the best of the hunt. It might be fun to try this recipe with fiddleheads you’ve just picked and porcinis that your trusty pet pig (don’t you have one?) has just unearthed. Which only goes to show that local food often does taste better.

Like death and taxes, it’s a generally accepted truth that tofu is bland. Tofu is considered a flavorless block of protein, providing texture and nutrition for vegetarians, hippies, and trendy hipsters. Rarely is tofu considered an ingredient on its own. Most often it’s a substitute for the animal-derived foods it replaces, such as chicken, beef, and pork. An unfair analogy, if you think about it. Why do we compare the flavor and texture of a bean-based food to those of an animal food? We don’t equate black-eyed peas with chicken, hummus with steak, Boston baked beans with pork chops. Tofu is a food in its own right, we ought to treat it as such. And–don’t laugh–I’ve always been convinced that tofu has a distinct flavor of its own, if a very subtle one.

Today I tested my hypothesis. Despite my natural proclivity to spend Saturday morning lazing around the house, I finally managed to get to the Berkeley Farmer’s market. (As soon as the sun shows its face, the good citizens of the Bay Area have no choice but to immediately engage in all forms of outdoor activities, before the warm rays disappear behind another unseasonably overcast sky.) I was just in time to buy the last two little blocks of tofu from the Hodo Soy Beanery, a local organic producer of all things soy. Among other things, I also purchased a block of lightly salted Spring Hill Jersey cultured butter (so good, you can pretty much eat it on its own).

Back at home, I decided to prepare the tofu very simply so as to bring out its natural flavor. What could be more honest than sliced tofu cutlets cooked in butter, seasoned with salt and pepper? Almost not a recipe at all, frankly. The result was creamy on the inside with a slightly crisp golden crust, and a pleasant soybean flavor. Quite good. And tasting quite distinctively of tofu.

Not Really a Recipe for Fried Tofu

1 small block of the freshest, yummiest organic tofu you can find, sliced
1-2 TBS butter
salt and pepper to taste

- Fry the tofu in the butter until golden on both sides. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Serves 2-3

Rose Levy Beranbaum has some words of wisdom on her blog regarding the purchase of cake pans. Apparently, manufacturers of cake pans have been shrinking their products, so your 9 inch loaf pan may not actually be 9 inches long. Worse, its volume may be less than that of a traditional loaf pan. If your recipes produce too much batter for your pans, this could be the reason. Berenbaum recommends shopping for kitchen products with a tape measure. Excellent advice, and something I’d never have thought of.

Stopping by Whole Foods on a Rainy Evening
with apologies to Robert Frost

Whose foods these are I think I know
They live in a distant village though;
They will not see me shopping here
To watch the registers fill up with dough.
These far off folks must think it queer,
To shop for produce priced so dear,
Between Nob Hill and windy bay
The fanciest food store over here.
I wonder if they’re on the take,
Ten bucks a pound must be a mistake.
Filling my bag, grumbling discontent,
I hope the poor farmers can pay their rent.
Whole Foods is lovely, though, not cheap,
But I have standards I must keep.
And brie to eat before I sleep,
And brie to eat before I sleep.