Time moves on and a week ago we were walking the streets of Stockholm trying to find something to eat on the comedown from the cost of our first round of drinks. It is probably unfair to characterise a weekend in Stockholm by the brutal cost of a glass of beer. There was some talk whilst we were there on how healthy and glowing everyone looked and how  nice they were even if it was only to buy some tickets for the tube; maybe that comes from not drinking as much beer as we do?

Amongst all the very smart hair dressing salons there were a lot of Sushi & Thai restaurants.   Despite that we ended up eating Lebanese. We walked past the place two or three times debating as to whether we should go in and for a while were taken back twenty years and walks up and down the Cowley Road trying to decide where to eat. The food was good. A big plate of salad with lamb kebab and various small mezze.

We ate something similar this evening. I made a salad with baby spinach leaves, red onion and tomato dressed with garlic, oil and vinegar. I then cooked chicken breasts and lamb chops (depending on who was eating) and crisped up in the oven some past its use by date pitta bread.

A bit of the salad was put on each plate, and then some chopped pitta and then either chicken or lamb. We ate it with Total Greek Yogurt which I then finished off with two tablespoons of honey.

I should have mentioned when writing about Rosendals Tradgard that there was a a field of flowers there for the picking. They had been planted in great thick rows leading up a small hill and old ladies walked amongst them scissors in hand making themselves neat bunches to be taken back to one of the greenhouses and paid for.

Having done our bit in the garden centre we carried on walking past a large fairground Grona Lund filled with families making the most of the warmth all clutching large boxes of chocolate. We avoided the temptation to go in and have a on the rides and took the ferry to Slussen.

We walked up some wooden steps and saw a sign for a yard sale. The sign took us to a small garden around which various tables and stalls had been set up. There was an old copper kettle and a collection of forks. I negotiated over the forks and got ten of them for the equivalent of £10.00. The chap selling them through in an ivory handled knife. I got the impression that he was going to put the money towards buying himself another can of cider. He was going to have to sell a few more forks to afford it.

We walked on and found ourselves in a run of streets full of cafes and slightly funky shops including a number of retro clothes shops that seemed to be selling the same second hand shirts you can pick up in Resurrection on Bold Street. I was cheered by a record shop and picked up the new Bill Callahan CD a full 48 hours before I would have been able to buy it back home. I also bought a CD by a Swedish singer because the cover looked interesting. So far it sounds like U2 so not a tactic that worked.

By now it was late afternoon and time to gird our loins for a drink. We had the one round then nailed down the wallet so as to resist the temptation for another and set off for something to eat.

We were not too far from Pelikan and so made that our destination. It was the most traditionally Swedish meal of the weekend in a great hall of a room with high wood clad walls, black and white tiled floor, leather on the seats and sad faced waiters who were loath to crack a smile.

I had a plate of soused herring and cheese followed by meatballs, loganberries and some of the best mashed potato we have tasted properly thick and smooth. I finished off with a glass of Schnapps. It came in a small glass jar that nestled in its own bed of ice and was a pale yellow and tasted of caraway and juniper.

A great little meal.

On Saturday we had lunch in a rose garden. We took the train south and got off near the market Ostermalms Saluhall. A Swedish Market is a somewhat tidier affair than a Spanish one. There was fish but it was not piled up in the obscene quantities that you see in Spain. The meat was neatly cut up and there were not too many extremities. I was briefly tempted by what seemed to be reindeer black pudding but looked like their droppings. The veg was all in neat piles. We thought about coffee but decided to walk on.

The rose garden Rosendals Tradgard was in the middle of Djurgarden.  It was a large garden centre with a  cafe set up in a couple of the greenhouse. There were sandwiches and cakes and three dishes on the menu; mackerel salad, beef salad and soup. Behind the counter we could see the kitchen starting to churn out industrial quantities of the neatly made up plates.We were there at just after 12.00 and it wasn’t too busy. We both had the mackerel salad and took our plates to sit out in the garden.

The sun was beating down but we found somewhere to sit in the shade. We were next to a low hedge and on the other side a hose sprinkler was spreading water. As the breeze caught it we were covered in a light spray. Some of the families sitting nearby jumped up and moved to a different table. We stayed were we were enjoying the cool of the wet and eating our mackerel and for me drinking God Lager.

The mackerel tasted good and fresh and the salad was made up of a few new potatoes, leafs, tomatoes and cucumber all grown by the garden centre. It all came with a cool pale green dressing and tasted good enough for me to take the plunge with another glass of God Lager.

After lunch we walked through the other greenhouses admiring  small trays filed with bulbs ready for planting in a month or sos time all looking like so many bulbs of garlic and then we spotted a tray of those as well. By this time there were great long polite queues of people waiting for food.

At about £7.00 for half a pint you really start to appreciate the beer in Stockholm. This is not stuff for chugging. It needs to drunk slowly and swirled round the mouth so as to put off the moment I have to dig out my wallet and go through the somewhat painful experience of forking out another barrowload of cash for another half glass.

Fortunately the beers so far haven’t been too bad. Last night (Thursday) we sat outside a restaurant/bar and I asked for a glass of cold white dry wine and a beer. The wine was from Austria and did all that was asked of it. The beer was pale, blonde and sweet tasting and came in a slightly bigger glass and was what was needed after a days travel. We loosened our belts and went for a second round. This time the beer was dark and apparently flavoured with pine kernals. The man behind the beer had a grey forked beard and enthusiastic grin and I think he was trying to tell me it was one of the best beers in Sweden if not the world. It was very good. Deep and bitter. I drank it slowly.

As I paid the man said he’d hope to see us again. Nice thought but I may need to remortgage.

I was by myself (Friday) today and must have walked about eight miles. I was vaguely aiming for a bar that got a good write up in one of the travel guides.  Akkurat is on Sodermalm and is written up as being a place for beer lovers ‘frustrated with Stockholm’s lack of good ale.’ I was not one of the frustrated but it sounded like a good bet anyway.

It took some finding but I suddenly realised I was stood in front. I went for one of the beers the had on tap. The woman behind the bar described it as dry and hoppy. Sounded just right. I had two of them and half way through the second realised that I was just going to have to come to terms with the price of it. I had lunch there as well. As I was drinking the beer I decided to go for the dish of the day despite the good looking burger & chips that arrived at the table opposite. I ended up with what appeared to be baby food with loganberries. It was apparently a sort of veal burger – I should have made a note of the Swedish name. It was soft and mashy and came with mashed potatoes and peas and was smothered in melted clarified butter. I might go for the burger & chips next time.