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I’ve recently had the pleasure of discovering that a branch on my genealogical tree sprouted in Sweden. Given that this is some provable ancestry, I set out to educate myself on this part of my heritage. One thing’s for sure, cultures are identifiable by their food.

Many people my age and older may remember the Swedish Chef from the Muppet Show. While his stereotypical accent and grammar was laughable (after all, it WAS 30 years ago…), very little of his supposed recipes were actually Swedish. I remember his shooting the holes out of bagels, fighting off crazed unboiled lobsters, and watching coffee “per-ku-late”. Imagine my delight in finding a place in Ballard that sold ingredients I’d never heard of, for foods I never imagined while watching the Swedish Chef.

Olsen’s Scandinavian Store is right on Market Street and has been around since 1960. It was wonderful to look at every little thing in there and feel as if I uncovered treasure I never before understood. Bottles of Saft concentrate to be mixed with water for a refreshing fruit drink, sheets of lovely lefse in their triangles just crying out to be rolled up with cream cheese and smoked salmon, chunks of imported rich and smoky goat’s milk cheese…

I was torn. Do I flip through the little spiral-bound recipe books, try to lift a heavy wooden rolling pin, or graze my fingertips over cool gilded china cups with Viking ships on them? Do I justify buying Freya Milk Chocolate with hazelnut pieces, rolls of marzipan paste, or small bags of REAL black licorice that my mom loves (but shouldn’t have)? I have tried the Swedish meatball mix with my own gravy and felt full for hours. I’ve nibbled crispbread wafers with lingonberry jam, krumkake cookies that put waffle cones to shame, and puzzled over the instructions on the back of a bag mix for blueberry soup. (I’ll have to put that through Google’s translator.) The last lovely warm day I was there, I splurged a whole $2 and got a Norwegian hot dog. We’re talking a home-made juicy flavorful long hot dog wrapped up in a lefse triangle with tasty crunchy fried onions. Sure, you could put the offered ketchup on it. I’d rather have a unique tasty meal!

Olsen’s is not a large store, but they pack so much into the space that you always feel like you’re discovering something new. I’ve bought Norwegian Flag shirts as gifts, refrained from amassing a collection of wooden Dala horses, and convinced myself I will NEVER have the courage to try lutefisk, even at Christmas. But I do find it terribly easy to hop off the bus and walk half a block after work every now and then. And I just keep finding more things where I can say, ‘Yes, I’m part Swedish and I’ve tried that. Have you ever tasted this?”

Go on, give it a try. At the very least, you can buy a cute candle holder and wall plaque to convince your friends you’re a world traveller in your own back yard.