The edible country

On a Tuesday evening in June, I turn off route E45 just south of Avaviken. A short gravel road leads to a parking lot I have long intended to park in. I grab my rucksack and hike the steep path up to the top of what is known as Jan Svensa’s Hat (Jan-Svensamössan), a mountain with a significance that stands out to all who drive past. I always figured I would like to sleep up here, just for the sake of the view. Tonight is the night. The mountain is called Jan Svensa’s Hat because allegedly, there was a settler in Avaviken who had a tufted hat that resembled this low mountain. In Sámi, the name of the mountain is Suddale, which means “becomes ice-free early”. Those who often take this route along the Via Lappia know that this is true: the sun gets to the red porphyry early in the season, and the snow disappears. Something that was important for reindeer and reindeer herders to be aware of, as their food appears early here. I stop at the top. The view on a clear night goes on for miles and miles. Up here, on a low mountain and down there, lake Storavan – and in between forest, and more forest.

The edible country

Some days later, I find myself sat at a table in the forest just west of the village Liehittäjä, where Pia and Henry Huuva run their amazing Huuva Hideaway. This table is one of several tables around Sweden presented as a concept for the Visit Sweden campaign The Edible Country. The campaign was a way of communicating the possibilities of the freedom to roam – that all of Sweden is a pantry. Go out and forage what you can eat, then cook it in the forest. A clever way of presenting the freedom to roam, with the entire country available for bookings, like a restaurant. In Swedish Lapland, there are two of these tables. Henry Huuva himself built the one here in Liehittäjä. The other was built by interior carpenter Anton Fahlander in Luleå and can be found on Skeppsholmen in Arjeplog, with the mountains and Sweden’s deepest lake as a backdrop. In Liehittäjä, Henry has picked the shoots of willowherb, also known as fireweed, that he will fry over an open fire. Willowherb is sometimes called poor man’s asparagus, but I wonder who is poor? Those who can eat fried shoots from wild willowherb out in the forest on a summer’s day such as this, or those who buy plastic-wrapped items in the shop.

Natural flavours

After the willowherb starter, we get ‘dip in a cup’ (dopp-i-kopp). A dish that could well be called the national dish of the Torne Valley. This was the old way of using tiny potatoes that could not be used in any other way. They were quickly boiled in a pot, then dipped in melted butter. Dip in a cup works well with cured salmon or pickled grayling if you ever find it. But it used to be those tiny potatoes and the salty butter that gave you the energy to last the day.

After the dip in a cup, there is suovas, lightly smoked and thinly sliced reindeer meat fried in a pan over the fire, then eaten on gahkku, Sámi flatbread. Very apt, as this table is placed in the middle of an old, disused reindeer corral.

Meadowsweet, or meadsweet

— The first years I lived in Jokkmokk, I didn’t really think much about what you could eat from nature other than the obvious, such as berries and game. It took a while, and I think it was the angelica that made me understand how versatile the world of plants really is. Food entrepreneur Eva Gunnare tells me one day when we meet up in Kalix to pick meadowsweet.

Eva has created a mulled wine in cooperation with Norrbotten Destilleri in Töre, based on meadowsweet. Its Swedish name is ‘elk sweet’, funnily enough, because elks do not eat it. However, the proper name should be meadsweet, as it was one of the first plants used in the north to brew mead and later beer. But meadowsweet can easily be turned into a nice drink: just place it in cold water for a while and then strain before serving. Unless you want to make your own mulled wine, of course.

The roadside pantry

Angelica grows almost all over the country. People were writing about it already back in the 13th century, and the Vikings who settled on Iceland, Greenland and the Faroe Islands brought angelica with them. On Iceland, angelica was given the same status and protection as fruit trees in Swedish legislation.

Another thing you find along the road are dandelions, and those shoots are tasty too. They have a nutty flavour when fried and can be pickled like capers. If you pick the petals and are patient enough, you can boil them and reduce them to make the tastiest syrup. The green dandelion leaves are like a Nordic rosso salad: mix them with sorrel, or alpine sorrel, to get a true Northern green salad.

The Sámi used to boil sorrel and alpine sorrel in water until it became a porridge, eaten with milk back then, but now perhaps with cream and a bit of sugar. This dessert, called juobmo, tastes a lot like rhubarb.

Early in the season, there are nettle shoots to pick, the first true vegetable of the season in this part of the world that can be made into a tasty, classic soup but is also excellent in a homemade pesto. So, there in the ditch, you have an entire pantry of flavours from nature, with stinging nettles, dandelions, meadowsweet, sorrel, angelica, and willowherb. But, of course, you can make other things too, not just food. The edible country is, of course, also the drinkable country.

The Drinkable Country

— Yes, I did win all the competitions I could win as a bartender, and then I wrote a cocktail book that also won prizes. The key was probably bringing the flavour of our nature to the recipes. It was a natural thing to do; that’s where the Swedish flavour is, says bartender Emil Åreng.
— You know, mint – they’ve already done that in a Cuban mojito. To me, a midsummer drink is more about spruce shoots and birch leaves.

When Emil lets me have a taste, the infusion he has just taken off the camping stove is nothing other than the pure taste of a Swedish summer forest. Birch leaves and spruce shoots in syrup with a little bit of lemon. It tastes as if the most Swedish thing of all – the forest – is really there, inside the glass. Emil Åreng is perhaps Sweden’s most famous bartender, simply put. He has created four drink recipes for Visit Sweden’s campaign, The Drinkable Country. Initially, the idea was that they would cover all seasons and that you would be able to find the ingredients in nature during all months of the year, but what does a metre of snow and ice taste like here in the north? So Emil made two summer drinks and a very late autumn drink instead, using frozen rowanberries.
— This midsummer drink I made in two versions because you never know if Swedish midsummer will be balmy or chilly. If you serve it hot, add some whipped cream on top. If you can serve it cold, just put ice cubes in the glass instead. Both versions work equally as well, just like a Swedish midsummer. The main thing is that you get to spend time outside.

Rich flavours

For a few days, Emil Åreng visits Liehittäjä to help Pia and Henry with some practical things and relax a bit in the forest. Or perhaps to gather provisions. The landowner has permitted him to pick both ‘mouse ears’ and spruce shoots. He says several generations of his family were foresters, so his own career path was not entirely obvious. What was obvious was where to find the flavours for his award-winning cocktail recipes.
— We have such incredibly rich flavours here. It’s not like we need mango in Sweden when we have sea-buckthorn. We can use it in our drinks. We just have to discover everything we can do with it.

Henry brings the suovas, ready to eat. Gahkku and trimmings are already on the table. But, before we all dig in, our wooden cups are raised in a toast, ice chinking. It is warm, and the flavour of Swedish summer forest fits just perfectly, just right.