Älska mat - hell yeah!

At 1700 today Titti will be cooking something crazy and delicious up at Älska Mat-mässan. Truffles! Want to know more? See here.

So many questions, so little time

Thank you for all your questions! I'm really happy that so many of you have taken an interest in my writing. However, beacuse we're dealing with the post-paycheck bonanza of table-bookings, I'm going to need another day or so to write all the answers up. If you want to add your question to the pile, just comment on this post.

Weekend reading

Cooking craze? Well, according to the Daily Mail, it's us 16-24 year-olds behind it all. Do you agree? Read the article here.

Duh.

I completely forgot to do my traditionall "x-hundredth post" thing now that the number of posts is up to 400. Well, at 408 I feel it's a bit late to start.
So. Instead I'm going to do a Q&A. You'll have two days to post your questions to THIS post and I'll do my very best to answer them.

Also, I have a question for you. If you had to eat or drink ONE thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Let's talk about statistics

At my day job as a neuroscientist I work with statistics and what we in the business call "significance" on a daily basis. (If you like, I can start throwing my weight around with terms such as ANOVA, Gaussian distribution, Tukey post-tests and degrees of freedom, but I think I just heard you fall asleep so I won't. Don't worry).
Anyway. Good research is what we call statistically significant - that is, one has done one's test enough times to know that the result is not a random event. I'll illustrate: say you have a pair of dice that you suspect are weighted to the even numbers. How many times do you think you need to roll the dice to find out if the dice have been tampered with? Once is hardly enough. Twice? Probably not. If you rolled the dice ten times and got even numbers all the way through, then that would be statistically significant.
There's also something we call "bias". That is when the experiment is not designed in an objective manner, so that the results might be wrong (or more likely to turn out in one way rather than another).

So restaurangvarlden.se is reporting on some bloke who has interviewed ten restaurant critics and based upon their answers has drawn up a general image of what a restaurant critic is like. Well, I say the whole article is basically bullshit. Not having read this guy's actual thesis, I can't trash that just yet. But I'm going to tell you why I think that one can't deduce anything from asking ten anonymous people employed to do a job whether they do it properly or not. It's what I would call a biased experiment, with no statistical significance.

The ten interviewed restaurant critics say that they're very experienced diners and that they spend around nine hours writing (or not, apparently these nine hours included the actual dining experience itself) the review. I'm a bit confused as to how this group of ten was selected, as the article states that the broadsheets employ between 2-6 persons to do the actual dining - are these all "critics"? Or is it the person who does the actual writing that's the critic? Because if it isn't, then he might have spoken to the staff of a total of two newspapers - not quite what I call a good demographic spread. Also, he says there was only one critic interviewed from the local press - aren't there many more local papers in Sweden than nationwide counterparts?

I could go on and on. What surprises me the most is that the author claims to be surprised that his interviewees state that they are very experienced diners with lots of food and wine knowledge. I'd have been more surprised if someone crawled out of the closet and admitted they knew fuck-all. The hilarity reaches it's peak at the end of the article were we learn that the poor sod who works in the local press has to bring someone employed in a school kitchen as a "professional taster". As long as a saucepan is involved, I suppose...

I have said this countless times: drinking a lot or eating a lot does not make one a connoisseur. One is not a chef just because one can fry bacon. A cook, perhaps, but a chef: no. And one is not a good restaurant critic because one says so.
I'm not saying that there aren't good critics out there, because there are and I respect them for it. They are objective, experienced, knowledgable, educated, open-minded and, perhaps most importantly, fair. We love a good restaurant critic. We welcome their feedback. However, our most important critics are our customers who are paying for their experience out of their own pocket. Bad critics - well, we've had our fair share of those. Drunk? Check. Wrote about us without ever being to Bloom? Check. Couldn't remember what they ate? Check. Introduced themselves with camera, voicecorder and laptop? Check. In the end, the restaurant provides a living for lots of people, and having nonsense printed about your business is bad. We don't stick it. I wish more people did the same - Ramsay vs. A.A Gill style.

I'm not going to go into the anonymity issue because I've written about it before, and to be frank, the issue is quite tired. I will say this though: Good restaurant staff know who the food critics are, regardless of presence of byline.

Sorry about this long, rambling post. It's just that the tone of the article annoyed me. Self-justification if I ever heard it, and I'm just tired of the precious princesses that spout it.

Good culture, bad culture - only drink champagne when you're thirsty

Come slowly—Eden!
Lips unused to Thee—
Bashful—sip thy Jessamines—
As the fainting Bee—

Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums—
Counts his nectars—
Enters—and is lost in Balms.

You may or may not be familiar with one of my favourite poets, Emily Dickinson. Along with Sylvia Plath, Anaïs Nin, Virginia Woolf, Charlotte Brontë and Queen Elizabeth I she is one of my most treasured childhood heroes. I'm not sure I understood most of her poems as a child, but I'm now having to add another dimension to my current understanding of them now.
I don't think I'd ever considered what anyone who is an inspiration in my life eats or ate on a daily basis. And yet - three meals a day for any lifespan amounts to quite a lot of food. And how precisely do I judge people I meet? By what they eat. I find it a failsafe: if the food of choice has anything to do with "Findus" I'm outta there, and fast. Food is culture, and culture is not a fact but rather an argument or a standpoint. Madame de Pompadour famously stated that she only drank champagne when she was thirsty - now that's my kind of gal.
So what has this got to do with Emily Dickinson? Well, if your image of her is one of an austere, reclusive and mysterious presence, then think again. It turns out that apart from being a prolific writer, she was also a terrific baker. Want to try out one of her recipes for a pound cake? Check this out.
Re-reading Come slowly, Eden I now realise that this poem is probably the best description of what I felt like the first time I tried Chateau d'Yquem. How foolish to assume that she was writing about some bloke.

Brunch drinks, not weekday appropriate

I don't know about you, but my circadian-alcohol rhythm is skewed. I only realized this the other day when I was supposed to be having "drinks and cheese" with the in-laws during my "normal" working hours. Actually, my working hours seem to be 7.30 a.m to 11.30p.m, but that I know is just me. Anyhow, I was supposed to be having a glass of wine on a weekend evening, and dammit, I couldn't. I had about one sip, and that was that. I mean, I know that at 23 I'm not a good representative of my generation (I've been spending an unhealthy - for me - amount of time with people my age and I just don't GET that rabid fascination that they have about booze. I'm rabid about tasting wine, and understanding terroir, harvesting, maceration, fermentation, aging, pricing, oxidizing.... bla bla bla. I feel fifty or so when I say without thinking about who I'm talking to "I heard there's a new tequila being released, it's supposed to go very well with a chili con carne" and get blank stares like I'm an alien...)
Anyway. I digress. I can't drink when normal people drink. Which is almost seven days a week, by some new-fangled poll. I actually got quite depressed about this, I mean, what's the use of knowing the difference between a ketteridge and portlandian Chablis if you have to spit it out? But now I've figured it out. I'm a morning drinker. (Don't get worried just yet. I've never had a morning drink in my life) Because when you're working nights, the morning is the time you relax, right? I know they have "brunch drinks" State-side, so my question is when is this coming to Malmö?

Oh, hang on. That's never going to happen. Alcohol permits are issued from 11.30 a.m. So much for me having fun.

Why the majority is sometimes wrong

Well, by now no one can have missed that I'm the person wearing a bikini in the website's terrace picture. If not because of direct inquiry, but because Igi is now offering up this information to anyone and everyone who asks (or not). So, apparently when we're going to have to re-print our business cards someone is going to have hers featuring not a foodstuff but something quite leggy. Haha, I think not.

Anyhow, this is not what this post was all about. It started off as a small itch in my mind (I have a lot of those) that resulted in me reading up on roman cuisine and also the entire epic Romeo and Juliet in Old English to find out what was eaten 1. in the times of Saint Valentine and 2. for big romantic banquets in Tudor England. I want to make this clear stright off: sometimes the ends don't justify the means. The only food mentioned in Romeo and Juliet is marzipan. Duh. And although the Romans were relatively forward (they drank a lot of wine, for instance) they also had backward delicacies such as mice dipped in honey. Dropping the Roman lead and moving onto Tudor cooking lead me to discover that the only recipes really worth hunting (for use in modern times) were for the upper classes - the lower classes still ate mice (stuffed doormouse) and things like "Savoury porridge". The upper classes were the only people that could afford spices and fresh produce. Anyway, after a lot of perusing and discarding of recipes that no one in the modern world would touch, my conclusion is that what's worth keeping food-wise from Shakespeare are desserts and sweets. Marzipan? Uh-huh.
So now I read that digging into history and recovering supposed culinary gems is somewhat of a trend. Well if you like blood sauce, weeds and vermin then knock yourselves out! If you find it's not your kind of game, then don't tell me I didn't telleth thou so.

If you're like me

If you're like me, you're a bit cynical (and addicted to caffeine, but that's another story). You get a bit cynical in this business because you've seen it all. Vegetarians that eat meat? Check. Pregnant women ordering tequila? Check. Over-pompous men trying to compensate for something they feel is lacking? Check.
If you're lucky, things are not what they seem. If you're unlucky, you're underestimating the situation.
So if you're like me, you really enjoy satire. There's a comfort there, like "although the world may be doomed, we're at least laughing while going down". And that is a comfort, of sorts.
Anyway. Yelpers are everywhere. The concept is not new. What's new is what Yelpers might have sounded like when they first visited the pyramids, all those thousands of years ago. Or what they had to complain about when the great wall of China was built. Satire? Yes, indeed.

Things to get excited about

I'm not inspired at the moment. October is just not giving me "feeling". I thought I'd be all up in arms about autumn and colours and a new fabulous season but I'm not. I'm all like: "brown, burgundy, mustard yellow and olive green for autumn - revolutionary." (read with heavy sarcasm). Maybe it's because it's rained every day since sometime in July, or maybe it's just because I know this is the last possibility of some warm weather before we go in for hibernation.
No. I'm just not that into October.
I'm much more into November. November means gearing up for the festivities of December, and I love suspense and animation. October just seems to me like a big pause in all the fun. While I'm pausing though, I think I'll indulge in a bit of wine scouting. A lot of good things come out of Spain, Portugal and Italy for this time of year. In fact, I think I'm going to indulge in a nice glass of Tawny port, maybe even a vintage Taylor (no, it's not made behind chef's KitchenAid). I'll cosy up with my pungent glass and maybe some of Titti's pralines. That is, if I can sneak the bottle out of Mon Cher's special drawer at home and steal a box of chocolate from under Titti's nose without anyone noticing. Okay, I think I might have solved October. I hereby pronounce October "indulgence month". Throw calorie-counting to the wind (you'll burn it off trotting around town looking for christmas gifts next month) and do heavy cognac-laden stews with game, and lamb. Guzzle lots of warm drinks and eat loads of warm fruit tarts and chocolate pudding. Buy yourself some fluffy down slippers and hey presto - October will be November before you know it!!

Thank you for googling

I have to extend a hand to the deserving: the person who googled "how to run a successful restaurant" and ended up here. Ten times. In the last week. Merci beaucoup, I'm very flattered. Unfortunately I have to advise a certain level of, say, cynicism when reading this, beacuse being a woman I don't mean what I say and I don't say what I mean. Saying here being writing. Black numbers tell me about success, googlings tell me the number of invites to entrepreneurship events to expect in the mail. (You read the disclaimer there, right?)

Anyway. I had a nice satire about the cynical view of society upon women who chose to be chefs and sommeliers (before 50, grey hairs, pot bellies and the onset of matronly) but google just told me I don't need to. I'm a success.

Let's have a talk

Thank you for some inspiring (and some just plain weird) comments on what being a woman in the restaurant business (or any business come to that) is like. Most of you touched on the complicated politics concerning childbearing/rearing and working late nights and long hours - which is not necessarily unique to working in a restaurant. I think managing a career and a family is hard no matter what profession you're in. In these days and times I think this is not just a female problem, either. But that's me, and I was brought up with my dad doing the stay-at-home thing, choosing to give up his career to raise a family.
Anyway, so what do Titti and I really think of being women in the restaurant business? I've come to think of Titti and her husband as two very close friends. We try very hard to see each other outside work, which is a hard thing to accomplish. It's hard because, as Titti said to me the other day: if you're hungry and ambitious, there's always another thing to do. The restaurant business is bloody demanding too, especially if you're running your own restaurant. We work very hard at our respective careers. And here's the crunch point for this post: we're not working hard at our careers because we're women. We didn't choose our careers from a gender perspective either. In fact, if my primary thought about myself was that I am a woman, then I wonder whether I'd get out of bed in the morning. We're both a million things before we're women. I get very upset at having my work efforts, not to mention myself, being reduced to that of a gender issue, and I know Titti feels the same.
So when someone next rings up to ask what one of us feels about being a woman in the restaurant business, you'll know what we're going to reply (with heavy irony of course): "My right ovary didn't want to get up and go to work this morning, but dammit, my personality prevailed."

What are your thoughts?

I was talking to Titti yesterday about being a woman in the restaurant business. See, we get called up about twice a week by journalists asking that exact question. Well, we know what it's like being a woman in the restaurant business. I think the question here is what do YOU think it's like being a woman in the restaurant business? Post in the comments below and I'll tell you our point of view tomorrow.

Why you should never believe what you read in the newspapers

Well well well. Here we go again. I'm about to tell you about a story, printed in a local newspaper, that's wrong. And it's not just a bit wrong, it's way out in space. Probably circling the Hubble telescope. That's how far out in space it is.
Anyway. I'm sure everyone saw the headline in Metro yesterday. Some politicians had gone out to Koefoed in Copenhagen for a five course dinner to discuss some fishery issues (not fishy issues, thank god I re-read and correct my typos). The journalist and his editor seem to have been crapping themselves, because the text is ridiculously scandalous. Why? Because the politicians had a wine menu with their five course dinner. I'm more and more leaning into believing that being a journalist for a free paper is like being the smartest cast member of the Hills. That's very nice, but you've still got no brains and no sense of fashion. Can someone please prove me wrong?
So what was the issue here? Well, this dimwit of a writer had totalled the amount of wine drunk to a staggering sixty units (units as in 2,5 dl glasses, you know the type you get at your local pizzeria where the wine bottles have no labels) for eight people. Sixty glasses of wine!! 7,5 per person!! That's nearly two bottles! They must have been sooooo drunk! O-M-G!! (See what I mean by the smartest cast member of the Hills?)
So here's the lowdown. Koefoed is a very nice restaurant and would never serve any one person nearly two bottles of wine. They, just like us, serve small "tasting glasses" of wine with their multiple-course menus. If we served a full 2,5 dl glass with every course, people WOULD get drunk. And I have NEVER, EVER, heard of anyone who got hammered from drinking a wine menu. The glasses used in fine dining establishments serve 1/4 or 1/2 unit (unit as in 2,5 dl, remember?) measurements. And the order of wine served is unfailingly thus: 1/4 unit Champagne or aperitif wine, 1/4 unit wine with the first course, 1/4 unit wine with the second course, 1/2 unit with the main course (here, possibly a 1/2 unit fill-up), 1/4 unit with fourth course, 1/4 unit with fifth course. So all in all - 2,5 units (about half a bottle) of wine. And when any sommelier is asked for "half glasses" we reduce the amount to about a tablespoonful per glass(making the wine menu total about 1-1,5 glasses) - that's what the Koefoes waiter meant.

So, either this writer could audition for Adam DiVello's next big hit, or cutting down on boozing while writing is a good idea. Or wait - how about actually finding out the facts before spewing nonsense?
This is Sommelier Linnéa, signing out.

Q&A

I sometimes get a bit over-optimistic about how many hours there are in a day. So sometimes I get a bit delayed in answering your questions. Other times I get into traffic accidents and get a bit delayed in answering your questions, but that's another story.

As usual, the questions have been translated by me into the Queen's English.

I've tried to book afternoon tea twice now, and you've been fully booked both times. How far in advance do you have to book? Why don't you do two sittings if it's so popular?
Book at least a couple of days in advance. During November and December, a week in advance might be a good thing. We don't want to do two sittings, because it kind of ruins the relaxed atmosphere we're trying to set up if you're relaxing on a deadline.

I saw your post in Malmöbladet and tried the chardonnay. It was really good, thank you! But I thought you didn't like Systembolaget?
Thank you for those kind words. I'm glad you like the wine! I don't like Systembolaget. I don't like Systembolaget for the same reasons Mattias Kroon doesn't like Systembolaget. But you know what they say, when in Rome, do what the Romans do.

Why are your menus so expensive? Wouldn't it be better to serve cheaper a la carte and seat more people?
Our menus aren't expensive. You pay about 120 kr per dish. We won't become a fast-food bistro because there's already one of those in the park, and I wouldn't be caught dead in there. We love Bloom just as it is, set menu/no menu/excentric and fabulous. And that's how it's going to stay.

I tried sending you an email once to book a table, but I never got a reply. I think that's bad service.
I can't find a question in that comment, but I'll do my best anyway. I'm sorry you didn't get a reply. We're very religious about replying to our emails. We prefer not to take bookings by email for this exact reason, but we usually ring up and take your booking anyway. Maybe your email was binned as spam by our mail server. Stranger things have happened. Quote this reply with your next booking and we'll make sure to take care of you.