“We’re going to walk down to this castle and pick vegetables for the dinner tonight” says Matt. I agree, somewhat surprised by the casual bohemianism of this statement. I slip on my Birks and we start walking down the sidewalk. It’s a beautiful day and 22 Celsius outside.
Swedish faces pass us by as we gallivant down the sidewalk towards our destination. Sophie’s picking up the dog from daycare down the block so we scoop her up on the way. Matt and her met during an au pair year in San Francisco and he came back to live in Sweden with her a couple years ago.
The dog barks excitedly as we stroll up, jerking Sophia around a bit as it clamors to give all its love to us. It impressively jumps on some rocks and later jumps off the side of a tree. This dog can parkour!
The four of us trot through a beautiful forest, with tall skinny trees lining the path. The tree canopy provides just the right amount of shade as soil and branches crunch underfoot. It smells earthy, just like the subway did–the best smell there is. Horse droppings on the side of the path tell me that horses frequent this trail as well.
This trail is part of the old castle lands, and it leads us to a nice rectangular park, with what resembles more like a mansion than a castle presiding at the head of it. We continue through the park, soon reaching a flat plot of land rich with many different crops. Clearly, this is where we would be harvesting dinner.
“I forget how to tell if it’s a good one” says Matt as he rips an ear of corn off one of the corn stocks, tall rows of green around us. We walk up to some purple kale plants and my mind is blown by the sight of them. I feel pretty cool right now, so I take a snapchat, adding it to my story. One of my vegan friends is quick to respond with adoration and I get a sweet little self-esteem boost from his meaningless validation.
Some tall Thor looking motherfucker is working the register as we bag, weigh, and tag our groceries at the self-service scale. Even when you’re outside paying for groceries under the warm Swedish sun will they still accept your credit card.
There’s a scenic route home, and we walk through a little forest trail down by the water, smelling the freshness of the earth. We’re so close to the house, yet completely in the woods. A few joggers run past on adjacent trails. Sophie identifies some blueberries and picks them, offering them to us. Remembering parental scoldings, I apprehensively eat the blueberries–tart but good. I don’t fall ill and die like my parents told me. Once we find some alderberries, I don’t even blink an eye about eating them. Loose plans are made to harvest the ample berries in this little forest.
A California cabernet is opened, and banter is had over the IKEA dining room table. Sophie cooks up some vegetarian meat substitute curry with kale rice. It’s my first time having ‘soy meat’ and it’s much more delicious than I would have imagined. The rice has kale mixed in, and it actually tastes good–a novel thing for kale.
Matt and I play with the settings on my blog and talk about SEO. But my bed is cozy, and the boozy jet lag sensation is takes over. As I doze off I feel a little smug about picking my own vegetables. If this is the Swedish lifestyle, I’m into it.
