The three days following our opening weekend we were closed. David spent his time painting shelves, fixing lighting, defrosting freezers, etc. Basically he figured out what worked and what didn't. If it worked, he tried to make it work better; if it didn't work, he figured out why and tried to fix it. For the things he couldn't fix himself, like the aforementioned plumbing, we called in the specialists.
I spent most of my time on the phone. I set up bank accounts and arranged for delivery of vegetables, coffee, and ice cream. I created spreadsheets to keep track of just about everything I could think of. I also spent a good chunk of time in the kitchen cooking up our new menu.
All this sounds highly organized and well thought out. What really happened was we would show up with a list of three things to get done, work for twelve to fourteen hours and then notice that we still had the same three things on our list. I don't mean to imply that we wasted time. Rather, we vastly underestimated the amount of work there was to be done!
For example, it took three weeks to finally get the bank card terminal switched to my name. First I asked at the bank how to do it. They said to call company A. Company A said to call company B - the people whose name was on the machine. This seemed reasonable, but nearly impossible to accomplish. After several long periods of time (20-30minutes each) on hold only to get dropped or have my phone sabotage me, I finally got through to a person at company B. That person said - you don't want to talk to us, you want to talk to company C. I said thank you, wrote down the phone number, hung up and redialed. That number was no longer in service, but their website offered an alternative. Relieved by the lack of a long wait on hold with company C, I explained to their operator that I had taken over this coffee shop effective three days ago and would like to switch over the bank account that was linked to the terminal. The man took all of my information and said he would call back when he got the new number. After a week, I hadn't heard from him, so I gave them a call. Oh, they said, we need all of that information in writing. So, I wrote it all down and sent them an email. This time I did get a phone call back within a half hour, but my phone (in the process of dying) just felt like ringing and not letting me answer. After I borrowed a cell phone and called them back, I spent roughly five minutes on the phone and the bank terminal was reprogrammed and funneling money in my bank account!
On Friday of our first week, we left the coffee shop in the trustworthy hands of the art gallery administrators, Ingerid and Ingebjørg. David and I, along with Inger and Claudia two of our employees, were headed for a barista class offered free of charge by our coffee supplier. Arranging the class was one of the first things I did when I started thinking about the coffee shop. I knew how the coffee should taste, but not necessarily how to get it to taste that way; I figured the people at Crema could help us with that. What we got in return for our 4 hour each way drive was lots and lots of interesting information about how the coffee is produced, from growing on a tree to putting it in the bag. We also learned about preparing coffee and tea, cleaning our machines, and some milk steaming theory. Saturday, we returned to the coffee shop and gave all of our coffee machines a thorough cleaning. By the time the customers arrived our coffee was tasting better than ever!
The following Monday-Wednesday we were closed again and once again we seized the opportunity to fix everything that needed fixing before we couldn't anymore. David, in his admirable and unending quest to locate and understand everything in the building, discovered an interesting drain pump under the stairs on Sunday evening. The waste water from our sink (not in the kitchen, but in the coffee bar) runs first into a bucket, containing the pump, and is then pumped up and out. Coffee grounds, milk, and other sediment like things hang around in the bottom of the bucket and should be cleaned out once a month or so. That cleaning had not happened in a long long long time. When the customers left and David was allowed to open the bucket, I thought I was going to pass out the smell was so horrible. David persevered and managed to clean off the pump and the bucket and get everything screwed back together. Fortunately we had those three days closed to let the building air out. Unfortunately, we were working in the building those three days. By the time that Thursday rolled around (July 1st) we were ready to be open every day for the rest of the summer.
Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Kitchen activities
David is an excellent baker. Mostly he bakes bread, but sometimes we get carried away and make cakes and muffins. I have contributed (thanks to a shipment from Mom) to the baking of corn bread and corn bread muffins. Tonight I'm planning to try out chocoloate creamcheese muffins. Yum!
We have also experimented with sour dough. After a few false starts (involving a fair amount of mold) we got our culture in high gear. We made several loaves of rye sour dough bread and rye sour dough rolls before we moved on to wheat sour dough bread. That was good! It was an excellent compliment to either turkey or cream cheese with tomato slices and (home-grown) alfalfa sprouts.
I have made a large number of dinners that stretch to lunch for several days. After about a month of various combinations of canned corn, crushed tomatoes, kidney beans, onions, and ground beef, I moved on to more interesting food. We've have been eating pan-fried salmon, totally awesome orange chicken, various stir fry dishes, quiche, and last night was avgolimono soup.
Since we are both coffee connoisseurs, we made the decision at the beginning of the year (really over the summer) to grind our own beans. This takes time, but our coffee is definitely worth drinking, compared to pretty much everything else. Recently we received an order of loose-leaf tea and have been happily enjoying having options that suit all our warm beverage needs.
These culinary delights have led to a huge pile of dishes. Both of us are generally uninterested in washing them, so they stack up until we can't avoid them any longer. Our plan is to acquire a used dishwasher after the holidays to save us time and stress. I can't wait!
We have also experimented with sour dough. After a few false starts (involving a fair amount of mold) we got our culture in high gear. We made several loaves of rye sour dough bread and rye sour dough rolls before we moved on to wheat sour dough bread. That was good! It was an excellent compliment to either turkey or cream cheese with tomato slices and (home-grown) alfalfa sprouts.
I have made a large number of dinners that stretch to lunch for several days. After about a month of various combinations of canned corn, crushed tomatoes, kidney beans, onions, and ground beef, I moved on to more interesting food. We've have been eating pan-fried salmon, totally awesome orange chicken, various stir fry dishes, quiche, and last night was avgolimono soup.
Since we are both coffee connoisseurs, we made the decision at the beginning of the year (really over the summer) to grind our own beans. This takes time, but our coffee is definitely worth drinking, compared to pretty much everything else. Recently we received an order of loose-leaf tea and have been happily enjoying having options that suit all our warm beverage needs.
These culinary delights have led to a huge pile of dishes. Both of us are generally uninterested in washing them, so they stack up until we can't avoid them any longer. Our plan is to acquire a used dishwasher after the holidays to save us time and stress. I can't wait!
Friday, May 15, 2009
A day in Aberdeen
I arrived in Aberdeen after flying from Seattle via Copenhagen. It was a long, long trip that was not made shorter by the fact that I had managed to dump most of a glass of wine on my lap in the early hours of the first flight. Having arrived in Scotland, I exchanged what was left of my US currency and hopped a bus to the Youth Hostel.
That sounds pretty good, except I didn't really know where I was or where I was going. At least not at the level that I like to know these things. The result was not catastrophic, but I did wind up getting off the bus about ten blocks early and hauling all of my luggage along the bus route to the Youth Hostel.
I got checked in, stashed my stuff (up three flights of stairs), and decided to go for a walk. Seeing as how I'd botched being prepared arriving in Aberdeen, I figured I might as well be prepared leaving the city. I walked through a long street of shops (stopping for coffee and a sandwich) and made a sharp right to the harbor. I had acquired a map, so I knew where I was headed.
I was headed to the ferry terminal. I wanted to know if there were luggage lockers that I could leave my bags in during the day, since check out was at 10am and the boat wasn't leaving until 5pm. What I could see through the tinted windows didn't indicate the presence of lockers, and I didn't really want to appear too suspicious on the deserted dock, so I started formulating a plan B. That consisted of 'there must be lockers at the train or bus station' which I had walked past on the way down.
I went grocery shopping and tried to refrain from purchasing the whole store. I only needed food for one day and I already had coffee. (I bought coffee and a travel mug/french press in Seattle) I found myself with cheese, crackers, smoothie, and a couple bottles of water. I'd been walking for a couple hours by the time I made it back to the hostel, ate, showered, and crashed.
In the morning, I got up, had breakfast, repacked, and checked out. I took a bus to the bus station and asked about luggage lockers; they directed me to the train station a bus away. At the train station I paid £4 to have my bags searched and stored while I wandered around. I figured both the search and the price were reasonable.
Freed from my burdens, I headed off to the art gallery. There I made a painstaking survey of everything (just about) on the first floor. Then it was lunch time (spicy carrot soup!) before almost the same consideration was given to the upper floor. There was a lot more to look at on the upper floor and I was getting tired so I didn't quite study everything. Also, there were a few rooms closed. I suppose I'll just have to go back if I want to really see everything!
Having exhausted the gallery, I headed into the toasty early afternoon sun. I read in the park for a while. I drank coffee in a shop where the Canadian barista asked if I was reading Swedish. I bought a pen to write postcards and then wrote them. Then, I reclaimed my bags and headed back to the ferry terminal. It was time for adventure.
That sounds pretty good, except I didn't really know where I was or where I was going. At least not at the level that I like to know these things. The result was not catastrophic, but I did wind up getting off the bus about ten blocks early and hauling all of my luggage along the bus route to the Youth Hostel.
I got checked in, stashed my stuff (up three flights of stairs), and decided to go for a walk. Seeing as how I'd botched being prepared arriving in Aberdeen, I figured I might as well be prepared leaving the city. I walked through a long street of shops (stopping for coffee and a sandwich) and made a sharp right to the harbor. I had acquired a map, so I knew where I was headed.
I was headed to the ferry terminal. I wanted to know if there were luggage lockers that I could leave my bags in during the day, since check out was at 10am and the boat wasn't leaving until 5pm. What I could see through the tinted windows didn't indicate the presence of lockers, and I didn't really want to appear too suspicious on the deserted dock, so I started formulating a plan B. That consisted of 'there must be lockers at the train or bus station' which I had walked past on the way down.
I went grocery shopping and tried to refrain from purchasing the whole store. I only needed food for one day and I already had coffee. (I bought coffee and a travel mug/french press in Seattle) I found myself with cheese, crackers, smoothie, and a couple bottles of water. I'd been walking for a couple hours by the time I made it back to the hostel, ate, showered, and crashed.
In the morning, I got up, had breakfast, repacked, and checked out. I took a bus to the bus station and asked about luggage lockers; they directed me to the train station a bus away. At the train station I paid £4 to have my bags searched and stored while I wandered around. I figured both the search and the price were reasonable.
Freed from my burdens, I headed off to the art gallery. There I made a painstaking survey of everything (just about) on the first floor. Then it was lunch time (spicy carrot soup!) before almost the same consideration was given to the upper floor. There was a lot more to look at on the upper floor and I was getting tired so I didn't quite study everything. Also, there were a few rooms closed. I suppose I'll just have to go back if I want to really see everything!
Having exhausted the gallery, I headed into the toasty early afternoon sun. I read in the park for a while. I drank coffee in a shop where the Canadian barista asked if I was reading Swedish. I bought a pen to write postcards and then wrote them. Then, I reclaimed my bags and headed back to the ferry terminal. It was time for adventure.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Seattle Spring '09
I arrived in Seattle three weeks ago to warm sunshine and the usual family circus at the airport. Christa had been suffering an allergic reaction on the airplane for most of the trip and hurried off to her hotel. I was thrilled and surprised that the whole Warshaw family had made the trek to the aiport to meet me when I finally emerged from having all of my bags inspected. Dad still managed to not be at the airport waiting for me.
After a family dinner with Dad, Sonya, and her boyfriend at Dave's Diner, I decided to stay with Christa in the hotel. Both of us passed out pretty early. We both got up pretty early too. Dad came to pick me up around 8:30 and, in spite of my double checking the room, I managed to leave my broken by the inspection agent wallet in the room.The ensuing two day search of all of my belongings did end happily with the recovery of the errant wallet.
I spent a few mornings a Cafe Senso Unico. I love to sit there, drinking coffee and reading, watching the world I left behind scurry in and out between meetings. Of course, they are the home of the most amazing coffee, especially the soy cappuccino.
After a family dinner with Dad, Sonya, and her boyfriend at Dave's Diner, I decided to stay with Christa in the hotel. Both of us passed out pretty early. We both got up pretty early too. Dad came to pick me up around 8:30 and, in spite of my double checking the room, I managed to leave my broken by the inspection agent wallet in the room.The ensuing two day search of all of my belongings did end happily with the recovery of the errant wallet.
I spent a few mornings a Cafe Senso Unico. I love to sit there, drinking coffee and reading, watching the world I left behind scurry in and out between meetings. Of course, they are the home of the most amazing coffee, especially the soy cappuccino.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
FolkeLarm
There is so much to write about FolkeLarm I'm not sure where to begin, so I'll start at the beginning.
On Thursday we drove to Oslo. When we arrived we took the easiest, although perhaps least direct route to the house where we would be staying; that is to say we drove around almost all of Ring 2. Once we arrived we introduced ourselves, made a trip to the grocery store and the liqour store (good beer!), and made a couple pizzas. Then I headed back downtown.
Volunteers got free festival passes, so I volunteered! My first job was to sell tickets at a small cafe on Thursday night. I got to hear SYM, Svanvit, and the Gjermund Larsen trio. The were all great! Afterward, I wandered off to meet my friends and ran into most of the members of Sver on the way. I caught the last couple minutes of Unni Boksasp's performance before that venue closed and the party moved on to a new location at a club on the 11th floor of an office building.
The following evenings were similar; fabulous music (Sver, Vallravn, Storm Weather Shanty Choir, Valkyrien Allstars, Einar Olav Larsen trio, solo concerts, etc.), late nights and a city atmosphere. I had moved to a hotel downtown after the hour long walk home (the trains weren't running when we headed in) and sleeping on the floor. This made it that much easier to soak up the bands, the dancing, the coffee shops (I had four soy cappuccinos!), the shopping, and meeting people from all over the world interested in Norwegian folk music.
Saturday night was the Norwegian Folk Music Awards ceremony. Sunday night was the obligatory and beautiful church concert (Anne Hytta) followed by the folkmusikkpub 'for those who haven't gotten enough'. I hadn't gotten enough so I stayed for both! The jam on Sunday night was worth the whole weekend :)
I soaked up enough inspiration in Oslo to last for a good long while. It's easy to lose oneself in a practice room for hours if you set your goals high enough. Just to be sure that I stay inspired, I will be travelling to Linköping in two weeks for their folk music festival.
On Thursday we drove to Oslo. When we arrived we took the easiest, although perhaps least direct route to the house where we would be staying; that is to say we drove around almost all of Ring 2. Once we arrived we introduced ourselves, made a trip to the grocery store and the liqour store (good beer!), and made a couple pizzas. Then I headed back downtown.
Volunteers got free festival passes, so I volunteered! My first job was to sell tickets at a small cafe on Thursday night. I got to hear SYM, Svanvit, and the Gjermund Larsen trio. The were all great! Afterward, I wandered off to meet my friends and ran into most of the members of Sver on the way. I caught the last couple minutes of Unni Boksasp's performance before that venue closed and the party moved on to a new location at a club on the 11th floor of an office building.
The following evenings were similar; fabulous music (Sver, Vallravn, Storm Weather Shanty Choir, Valkyrien Allstars, Einar Olav Larsen trio, solo concerts, etc.), late nights and a city atmosphere. I had moved to a hotel downtown after the hour long walk home (the trains weren't running when we headed in) and sleeping on the floor. This made it that much easier to soak up the bands, the dancing, the coffee shops (I had four soy cappuccinos!), the shopping, and meeting people from all over the world interested in Norwegian folk music.
Saturday night was the Norwegian Folk Music Awards ceremony. Sunday night was the obligatory and beautiful church concert (Anne Hytta) followed by the folkmusikkpub 'for those who haven't gotten enough'. I hadn't gotten enough so I stayed for both! The jam on Sunday night was worth the whole weekend :)
I soaked up enough inspiration in Oslo to last for a good long while. It's easy to lose oneself in a practice room for hours if you set your goals high enough. Just to be sure that I stay inspired, I will be travelling to Linköping in two weeks for their folk music festival.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Gårdstur og kaffekveld
August 11, 2008
Anne took a break from sawing logs to show me around the buildings. I clearly have trouble counting to four; there are four buildings on the property, not three. Besides the house, there is the woodshed, the stabbur (formerly used for storing things like salted meat, now half renovated as an extra guest house for three), and the barn/dairy which hasn't seen much renovation, yet. They started working on the buildings ten years ago and now they've had the house fully upgraded for a year. Steinviknesset is everything you could want in an ancestral vacation home and more.
Once Anne finished for the evening, we set to work looking at her photos. Aided by a glass of wine and a cup of coffee each, we worked our way through their vacation and into mine. Before we knew it, it was dark here. As Johan put it, autumn is coming; as Anne put it, there will be another summer, but lots of skiing in the meantime. Tomorrow, I'll take the bus back to Bodø and then the train all the way to Hedmark where I'll be in Trysil and Hamar for the remaining days before school starts.
Anne took a break from sawing logs to show me around the buildings. I clearly have trouble counting to four; there are four buildings on the property, not three. Besides the house, there is the woodshed, the stabbur (formerly used for storing things like salted meat, now half renovated as an extra guest house for three), and the barn/dairy which hasn't seen much renovation, yet. They started working on the buildings ten years ago and now they've had the house fully upgraded for a year. Steinviknesset is everything you could want in an ancestral vacation home and more.
Once Anne finished for the evening, we set to work looking at her photos. Aided by a glass of wine and a cup of coffee each, we worked our way through their vacation and into mine. Before we knew it, it was dark here. As Johan put it, autumn is coming; as Anne put it, there will be another summer, but lots of skiing in the meantime. Tomorrow, I'll take the bus back to Bodø and then the train all the way to Hedmark where I'll be in Trysil and Hamar for the remaining days before school starts.
Fele og ve
August 11, 2008
Today was another slow start; Anne and I aren't really morning people and Johan knows better than to wait for us. After examining my bunad (and many fine words of praise for my wonderful mother who made it), Anne and I headed to the marina where the supermarket is. It is about the size of a small grocery store in the US and also contains a restaurant. They are still a little bit in shock that it exists. We got almost everything we needed (which really means we forgot a couple things).
Upon our return, we made coffee and chocolate muffins with walnuts. We sat out in the sun and filled ourselves full. Then, I played for Anne and Johan. It's not often that I get to play for such an appreciative audience. I remember while I was playing a tune I learned when they visited Seattle that it was when they came that I had started playing folkmusic. Has it really been only fourteen years? Am I old enough to say 'only fourteen years'? I am so happy with the path my life has taken and am honored to know and count as friends so many wonderful through folk dance and music.
Once the wind had blown the last notes out of my fiddle, we remembered that vacations at an old house are all relaxing. Today, we bagged last years' wood and chopped what had been cut earlier in the summer. Ok, so by chopped, I mean placed on the electric log-splitter. It still took most of the afternoon and involved bending over to pick up the logs from the pile. Anything is fun when you're doing it in good company, though. While Anne and I worked on splitting logs, Johan was thinning the woods around the house so they will have wood ready for next winter; the pile we were working on was for this year.
Dinner tonight was cauliflower au gratin. One of the ingredients we forgot at the store was the bullion, but we made it work and it was delicious. I highly recommend it, unless, of course, you don't like cauliflower. It is very simple to make. Just boil the cauliflower florets (imagine how much you'll want to eat for an entree, probably one very small head or half a large head). Drain the liquid off, but keep some (a couple quarts) for the sauce. Make a white sauce using butter, flour, milk, cream, bullion, and the stock from the cauliflower; add salt, pepper, and other spices to taste. Pour the sauce over the cauliflower in a baking dish and top with (lots of) grated cheese. Stick it in the oven at a reasonably high temperature until the cheese on the top turns to a golden brown color. Anne served it with garlic bread. I think this was a splendid side dish; we also had a salad.
Anne and Johan are outside now, sawing the freshly cut wood into pieces that will dry by next summer. I think I'll go keep them company.
Today was another slow start; Anne and I aren't really morning people and Johan knows better than to wait for us. After examining my bunad (and many fine words of praise for my wonderful mother who made it), Anne and I headed to the marina where the supermarket is. It is about the size of a small grocery store in the US and also contains a restaurant. They are still a little bit in shock that it exists. We got almost everything we needed (which really means we forgot a couple things).
Upon our return, we made coffee and chocolate muffins with walnuts. We sat out in the sun and filled ourselves full. Then, I played for Anne and Johan. It's not often that I get to play for such an appreciative audience. I remember while I was playing a tune I learned when they visited Seattle that it was when they came that I had started playing folkmusic. Has it really been only fourteen years? Am I old enough to say 'only fourteen years'? I am so happy with the path my life has taken and am honored to know and count as friends so many wonderful through folk dance and music.
Once the wind had blown the last notes out of my fiddle, we remembered that vacations at an old house are all relaxing. Today, we bagged last years' wood and chopped what had been cut earlier in the summer. Ok, so by chopped, I mean placed on the electric log-splitter. It still took most of the afternoon and involved bending over to pick up the logs from the pile. Anything is fun when you're doing it in good company, though. While Anne and I worked on splitting logs, Johan was thinning the woods around the house so they will have wood ready for next winter; the pile we were working on was for this year.
Dinner tonight was cauliflower au gratin. One of the ingredients we forgot at the store was the bullion, but we made it work and it was delicious. I highly recommend it, unless, of course, you don't like cauliflower. It is very simple to make. Just boil the cauliflower florets (imagine how much you'll want to eat for an entree, probably one very small head or half a large head). Drain the liquid off, but keep some (a couple quarts) for the sauce. Make a white sauce using butter, flour, milk, cream, bullion, and the stock from the cauliflower; add salt, pepper, and other spices to taste. Pour the sauce over the cauliflower in a baking dish and top with (lots of) grated cheese. Stick it in the oven at a reasonably high temperature until the cheese on the top turns to a golden brown color. Anne served it with garlic bread. I think this was a splendid side dish; we also had a salad.
Anne and Johan are outside now, sawing the freshly cut wood into pieces that will dry by next summer. I think I'll go keep them company.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Bodø I
After a quick diversion to the wrong boat terminal, I left my luggage at the train station and headed into town. I found the tourist office, conveniently located at the correct boat terminal (which is right where it has always been). I bought my tickets to Ørnes and decided to hit the library and get some food.
I went for food first. Then I got to the library and fulfilled my internet needs for the time being. Then I got coffee, checked out cell phone plans and made two important phone calls.
The first to Tom and Elaine to let them know I was still alive and had made it this far. They were also still alive and had made it back to Hudiksvall; in fact, they were on the obligatory library run! It was nice to hear cheerful voices.
The second phone call was brief, but very important! I had tried to call Ørnes several times in the past few days with no answer. I got through and let them know I was still coming today. They'll meet me at the pier. Phew!
I collected my luggage and headed for the boat. In the waiting area I called Dad. It was early in Seattle, but I think he was happy to hear from me. Now, it's boarding time.
I went for food first. Then I got to the library and fulfilled my internet needs for the time being. Then I got coffee, checked out cell phone plans and made two important phone calls.
The first to Tom and Elaine to let them know I was still alive and had made it this far. They were also still alive and had made it back to Hudiksvall; in fact, they were on the obligatory library run! It was nice to hear cheerful voices.
The second phone call was brief, but very important! I had tried to call Ørnes several times in the past few days with no answer. I got through and let them know I was still coming today. They'll meet me at the pier. Phew!
I collected my luggage and headed for the boat. In the waiting area I called Dad. It was early in Seattle, but I think he was happy to hear from me. Now, it's boarding time.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Forsa Sightseeing
Forsa is Tom's ancestral homeland. Today we did our best to see it all. After, of course, the obligatory stops at the library, the bank, the insurance company, and the public restrooms. We also made it to the train station, but that involves a long story I don't have time to tell.
Shortly after 13:30 we arrived at Gerd and Gunborg's picturesque home a short drive outside of Hudsiksvall. Gerd was wearing white capri pants and a great linen blouse with princess sleeves in Ingrid teal. The blouse set off her eyes and made her seem even happier to see Tom. Gunborg, recovering from pneumonia, introduced herself and surprised us all by announcing that she would join us for the first stop on our tour.
We were off to Trogstasätter'n. If I recall correctly, Gerd's mother was born there and her cousin, Tonya (who is also Tom's cousin), now owns the house and will move there permanently when she retires, hopefully next year. In the meantime, she and her husband spend the vacations working on restoring the buildings, which Tom thinks are about 300 years old, but no one is exactly sure about. From the looks of things, the are doing an excellent job restoring things.
The property sits next to the lake and out the back windows you can see it through the trees. From the yard between the barn and the house, you look out across beautiful green fields, with Forsa Tre, the lumber yard, off to the left. It was here that we sat for coffee and cakes. Tom's belated birthday party. Much pleasant conversation later, Gerd mentioned to Tonya that she had promised Tom a look inside the house and in we went. I took a lot of pictures, so I think you'll have to wait for those to see the treasures we found within. We also squeezed in a call to Gerd's son Joakim; we all hope that he and Tom will find a way to work in a visit while Tom's in Sweden. They are both busy men this summer.
From Trogstasätter'n we went to the Forsa church leaving Gunborg to rest in Tonya's company. At the angle we approached the church, it was difficult to tell how big it really was. Not usually being much interested in churches, the idea of stopping at the church hadn't really excited me at first, but this was Gerd's day and it was her church, so we went. It was beautiful inside. The walls were two meters thick. The pipe organ at the back, mostly only played on Christmas eve, is impressive in its stature and detail. We spent an hour looking at the gravestones of Tom's ancestors. Gerd guided us through the cemetary and the family history, connected the names on the stones to each other and to Tom. By this time, we were getting hungry.
Back at the car, Tom found some cheese sandwhiches he had brought along. He ate most of them and passed one back to me. I greedily accepted. We were on our way to Ystadgården (I think). Upon arriving, Gerd discovered that the restaurant she had hoped to take us to for the famous Forsa ostekake (a kind of cheesecake not related to the sort from New York), had closed twenty minutes earlier.
Gerd, possesing the family charm which Tom so often benefits from, managed to get us four servings of Forsa ostkake and coffee for two - me and her. This cheese cake is made, if I understand correctly, by cooking the whey out of the cheese and then pouring it into a mold. It is served with a light lingon syrup and it squeaks on your teeth. It was tasty, but I was too hungry to truly appreciate it and couldn't finish my portion. The coffee, however, was the best coffee I've had since leaving Seattle.
Not only did they open the restaurant for us, they let us poke around in the gift shop for a solid twenty minutes. Then there was a photoshoot in the courtyard. Then the fifteen minute goodbye. And then we were on our way to Bystroms.
This stop was just going to be a quick look around. The farm belongs to the family of a woman who works at the Hudiksvall tourist bureau who had been particularly helpful to both Tom and Elaine. Since Gerd knows everyone and her name had come up, the lady from the tourist bureau had told Tom to have Gerd show him where the farm was.
We pulled up to Bystroms and there was a man getting off a tractor; this was not going to be a short stop. Steffan said we could most certainly look around at the buildings and take pictures, so, like the obedient tourists we had become, we three Americans headed into the courtyard surrounded by several typical Swedish farm buildings in their oh-so-practical arrangement. A few minutes later, Steffan returned wearing clean pants and carrying the key to the big house. Gerd had talked him into giving us a tour. Again the pictures will come later.
At Bystroms there had been a younger man, whom we think was also named Steffan and who mentioned that he lived up the road next to our dancing friends Barbro and Eric. He suggested that we could take a look at his house if we went up that way. So, we went. Why not, right?
Barbro and Eric were outside as we drove past and, since Elaine had some gifts for them, we stopped to say hello. This short stop turned into a garden tour; Eric's garden is really quite remarkable. We ate strawberries and red and black currants; both Tom and Gerd got a bag of greens to take home. All of us had the pleasure of meeting Säbb, the very friendly dog. At 20:30 we climbed back in the car and headed back toward Gerd's house.
We took Gerd home and said our goodbyes. I won't be seeing her again, so we all got out of the car to exchange hugs. Perhaps I'll see her next summer in Sweden.
On the ride home there were some attempts made to plan tomorrow morning, but at the forefront of at least two minds was dinner. Tom and I had been hungry for a good five hours and the cakes had only distracted us from that fact. Two bowls of soup is a substantial breakfast, but it won't hold me all day under any normal circumstances.
Shortly after 13:30 we arrived at Gerd and Gunborg's picturesque home a short drive outside of Hudsiksvall. Gerd was wearing white capri pants and a great linen blouse with princess sleeves in Ingrid teal. The blouse set off her eyes and made her seem even happier to see Tom. Gunborg, recovering from pneumonia, introduced herself and surprised us all by announcing that she would join us for the first stop on our tour.
We were off to Trogstasätter'n. If I recall correctly, Gerd's mother was born there and her cousin, Tonya (who is also Tom's cousin), now owns the house and will move there permanently when she retires, hopefully next year. In the meantime, she and her husband spend the vacations working on restoring the buildings, which Tom thinks are about 300 years old, but no one is exactly sure about. From the looks of things, the are doing an excellent job restoring things.
The property sits next to the lake and out the back windows you can see it through the trees. From the yard between the barn and the house, you look out across beautiful green fields, with Forsa Tre, the lumber yard, off to the left. It was here that we sat for coffee and cakes. Tom's belated birthday party. Much pleasant conversation later, Gerd mentioned to Tonya that she had promised Tom a look inside the house and in we went. I took a lot of pictures, so I think you'll have to wait for those to see the treasures we found within. We also squeezed in a call to Gerd's son Joakim; we all hope that he and Tom will find a way to work in a visit while Tom's in Sweden. They are both busy men this summer.
From Trogstasätter'n we went to the Forsa church leaving Gunborg to rest in Tonya's company. At the angle we approached the church, it was difficult to tell how big it really was. Not usually being much interested in churches, the idea of stopping at the church hadn't really excited me at first, but this was Gerd's day and it was her church, so we went. It was beautiful inside. The walls were two meters thick. The pipe organ at the back, mostly only played on Christmas eve, is impressive in its stature and detail. We spent an hour looking at the gravestones of Tom's ancestors. Gerd guided us through the cemetary and the family history, connected the names on the stones to each other and to Tom. By this time, we were getting hungry.
Back at the car, Tom found some cheese sandwhiches he had brought along. He ate most of them and passed one back to me. I greedily accepted. We were on our way to Ystadgården (I think). Upon arriving, Gerd discovered that the restaurant she had hoped to take us to for the famous Forsa ostekake (a kind of cheesecake not related to the sort from New York), had closed twenty minutes earlier.
Gerd, possesing the family charm which Tom so often benefits from, managed to get us four servings of Forsa ostkake and coffee for two - me and her. This cheese cake is made, if I understand correctly, by cooking the whey out of the cheese and then pouring it into a mold. It is served with a light lingon syrup and it squeaks on your teeth. It was tasty, but I was too hungry to truly appreciate it and couldn't finish my portion. The coffee, however, was the best coffee I've had since leaving Seattle.
Not only did they open the restaurant for us, they let us poke around in the gift shop for a solid twenty minutes. Then there was a photoshoot in the courtyard. Then the fifteen minute goodbye. And then we were on our way to Bystroms.
This stop was just going to be a quick look around. The farm belongs to the family of a woman who works at the Hudiksvall tourist bureau who had been particularly helpful to both Tom and Elaine. Since Gerd knows everyone and her name had come up, the lady from the tourist bureau had told Tom to have Gerd show him where the farm was.
We pulled up to Bystroms and there was a man getting off a tractor; this was not going to be a short stop. Steffan said we could most certainly look around at the buildings and take pictures, so, like the obedient tourists we had become, we three Americans headed into the courtyard surrounded by several typical Swedish farm buildings in their oh-so-practical arrangement. A few minutes later, Steffan returned wearing clean pants and carrying the key to the big house. Gerd had talked him into giving us a tour. Again the pictures will come later.
At Bystroms there had been a younger man, whom we think was also named Steffan and who mentioned that he lived up the road next to our dancing friends Barbro and Eric. He suggested that we could take a look at his house if we went up that way. So, we went. Why not, right?
Barbro and Eric were outside as we drove past and, since Elaine had some gifts for them, we stopped to say hello. This short stop turned into a garden tour; Eric's garden is really quite remarkable. We ate strawberries and red and black currants; both Tom and Gerd got a bag of greens to take home. All of us had the pleasure of meeting Säbb, the very friendly dog. At 20:30 we climbed back in the car and headed back toward Gerd's house.
We took Gerd home and said our goodbyes. I won't be seeing her again, so we all got out of the car to exchange hugs. Perhaps I'll see her next summer in Sweden.
On the ride home there were some attempts made to plan tomorrow morning, but at the forefront of at least two minds was dinner. Tom and I had been hungry for a good five hours and the cakes had only distracted us from that fact. Two bowls of soup is a substantial breakfast, but it won't hold me all day under any normal circumstances.
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