This essay reminds me of childhood trips to my maternal grandparents’ home in Wisconsin, where I chased fireflies, sold lemonade, and picked berries. At a family reunion, my grandmother asked “Did you enjoy the berries?” A precocious seven-year-old, I replied with “How do you know I was eating berries?” “Look down,” she said. My white t-shirt was smeared in wild patterns of purple blackberry juice, and I hadn’t even noticed. Thanks for bringing that memory back!
Ha ha. Love reading about your childhood memory, and I can just picture that little girl with blackberry stains on her shirt (and those don't come out!). Thank you for sharing -- and for reading my substack.
What a great story! Your Swedish low bush blueberries brought many memories of picking those- in Maine. They have to be the best blueberry. Thank you for making me smile!
We used to travel back to England and Wales during the summer, to visit my maternal granny, as well as aunts, uncles and cousins. I have fond memories of drinking ginger beer in the outdoor seating areas at the pubs, chocolate sandwiches with white bread (I think the chocolate spread must have been Nutella), picking blackberries at the side of the road, and icecream made with Devonshire cream. Food memories are usually wonderful memories!
I agree — food is so good at evoking memories. It’s got a lot going for it — taste, smell, and location…your summers in England and Wales sound idyllic!
I did not realize how powerful your connection to Sweden- and to your childhood- really is. That part of it, at least , sounds idyllic. Funny how for so many of my friends, nostalgia for childhood amplifies with age. I’m still waiting for that to happen to me :)
It's true. For a long time I tamped it down, but in recent years I realized "they get me" in a way that doesn't always happen stateside. Maybe your experience as well?
What a delight to read about your memories of summers in Sweden. I especially liked your stories about picking berries.
Childhood memories of our families - preparing and sharing food together- is always something to be cherished I too have special memories of my Italian family growing up. Sunday dinners with Nana- who made the best meatballs.
This essay reminds me of childhood trips to my maternal grandparents’ home in Wisconsin, where I chased fireflies, sold lemonade, and picked berries. At a family reunion, my grandmother asked “Did you enjoy the berries?” A precocious seven-year-old, I replied with “How do you know I was eating berries?” “Look down,” she said. My white t-shirt was smeared in wild patterns of purple blackberry juice, and I hadn’t even noticed. Thanks for bringing that memory back!
Ha ha. Love reading about your childhood memory, and I can just picture that little girl with blackberry stains on her shirt (and those don't come out!). Thank you for sharing -- and for reading my substack.
What a great story! Your Swedish low bush blueberries brought many memories of picking those- in Maine. They have to be the best blueberry. Thank you for making me smile!
I’ve heard about those Maine blueberries! I’ve never been to Maine, but from what I understand it’s got a lot of similarities to Sweden.
We used to travel back to England and Wales during the summer, to visit my maternal granny, as well as aunts, uncles and cousins. I have fond memories of drinking ginger beer in the outdoor seating areas at the pubs, chocolate sandwiches with white bread (I think the chocolate spread must have been Nutella), picking blackberries at the side of the road, and icecream made with Devonshire cream. Food memories are usually wonderful memories!
I agree — food is so good at evoking memories. It’s got a lot going for it — taste, smell, and location…your summers in England and Wales sound idyllic!
I love this story & can’t wait to fika with you. I’ll being the Irish soda bread tea cake, you bring the strawberry cake.
Sounds like a perfect "fika." I'll be right over....
I did not realize how powerful your connection to Sweden- and to your childhood- really is. That part of it, at least , sounds idyllic. Funny how for so many of my friends, nostalgia for childhood amplifies with age. I’m still waiting for that to happen to me :)
I’m finding my childhood nostalgia is growing with age too.
It's true. For a long time I tamped it down, but in recent years I realized "they get me" in a way that doesn't always happen stateside. Maybe your experience as well?
What a delight to read about your memories of summers in Sweden. I especially liked your stories about picking berries.
Childhood memories of our families - preparing and sharing food together- is always something to be cherished I too have special memories of my Italian family growing up. Sunday dinners with Nana- who made the best meatballs.
Thank you Kaarin.
You bring the meatballs -- I'll bring the berries! (Gluten free cake, of course...)