I Heart Balls

I must say, those Swedes make some damn fine meatballs. Until very recently, my only experiences enjoying their country’s home-cooked meal staple saw me sitting under big yellow letters that spelled out “Ikea.” But a couple weeks ago, I was called to Stockholm on a work trip, and I was able to partake in a genuine plate of the gravy-drenched morsels of goodness. Each were about a third of the size of traditional American or Italian spheres but dare I say ten times more delicious. The meatballs were accompanied by mashed potatoes and, of course, a side of tart-sweet lingonberries as well as a delicate cucumber salad. My lunching partners also ordered a side of other traditional Swedish fare, which included a kind of moose or elk pate, sweet pickled fish and a quiche-like cheese pie, all of which were delicious. The restaurant was located in the Old Town section of Stockholm, but sadly, I didn’t take down its name. But I did learn the Swedish word for ground beef—Köttfärs. A pound of meatballs to anyone who can tell me how that’s pronounced.