I guess the blog was in mourning for a couple days. You know why.
Back to Swede- a wonderful homonym for today’s post. Sometimes, I amaze even myself. I’ll let you ponder who I amaze the rest of the time.
Recently Jonah and I went with Faye to The Baby Show in London. One of the highlights of the day was happening upon the Ella’s Organics booth. I am beyond obsessed with Ella’s baby food. Since I only had a child in England, for a long time I assumed that baby food in easy-to-travel packaging, organic and interesting healthy combinations was the norm. Then when I took Jonah to the States when he was 7 months old, I was corrected. Forget the fact that almost nothing was organic and Gerber baby food containers held food in colors that I didn’t know existed (grey peas, brown butternut squash), it was the glass jars that gave me pause. Glass jars? Really? That’s how far we’ve come in 17,000 years? I breathed a sign of relief for the baby food back on this isle’s shores.
I talked the whole thing up so much that when my father and stepmom were visiting us a few months later, my dad began to seriously consider going into business with me and importing Ella’s to the U.S. We had dollar signs in our eyes. But as it was, Ella’s founder has beat us to the punch and now his products are carried in Babies R Us, Target and elsewhere.
So back to the Baby Show. There I was, admiring Ella’s flavo(u)rs I didn’t even know about…
And look at the minimal waste!
when all of the sudden someone mentions that the man standing there is Ella’s Dad. THE Ella’s Dad that started the Ella’s baby food empire. We started talking about how it’s interesting to import his line of baby food since there are certain kinds Americans just won’t buy, like fish (I could have told him that) or lamb. Not to mention that strawberries, perfect for 4-month olds in the UK, are considered as poisonous as arsenic in the States.
(These are not patriotic.)
Then he said, “we’ll we have to change some of the packaging… Would you, for example, know what a swede was?” RUTABAGA, MOFO. Don’t even eff with me, Ella’s Dad. I am now bilingual.
In further swede news, for days I had been craving Swedish meatballs. That’s just how I roll. And sadly we had no reason to go to Ikea any time soon. And so with a little help from a Jamie Oliver recipe, and my sous chef Bryan, we turned out this deliciousness.
Now, I know for a fact there is at least one Swedish-ish person reading this blog. I did not make lingonberry jam. I sort of forgot, to be honest. And so at the very last-minute we heated up some strawberry jam. I hope that doesn’t get me kicked out of the EU.
Tonight is Guy Fawkes Night, everyone. I don’t know what it means, either.