Rumor has it that Stockholm’s Hötorget – the Haymarket – has been a marketplace since nearly the founding of the city in the mid-13th century. It gives the place a certain charm to my American eyes, although few Swedes would find it charming I’d bet.
Intimidated by the haggling of the fruit and vegetable and flower sellers who are more likely to be from the Balkans than from Blekinge (which would be one of Sweden’s 21 counties), sniffing at the dingy cobblestones sticky with wilted leaves and smashed berries, it’s too disorderly and dirty for the typical Swedish Swede.
But I love the place.
All those strawberries, new potatoes and chanterelle mushrooms laid out in careful rows, buckets of peonies and roses and lilies, and the hawkers calling out their bargains in heavily accented Swedish. Just make sure you double check the arithmetic before you hand over any money – I nearly paid forty crowns too much when I bought a couple kilos of peaches this past Saturday.
Rowena Subido
Once you’ve gotten your fruit, go inside and down the stairs – they tore down the original market building in 1953 and built an ugly glass box to house a movie theatre and put the market in the basement – the sellers are less aggressive and even more international, selling everything from seafood terrines to Moroccan preserved lemons and merguëz sausages. My favorites are the Chilean empanadas, made fresh every day, bought from the Filipino-South American deli Kapit Bahay Katangi Tangi, in the northeast corner of the hall. You can even get a Guarana soda from the owner, Rowena Subido. Or just go with a Swedish classic, a can of Ramlösa water.
Now take your empanada, your Ramlösa and your pint of Swedish strawberries, find a clean spot – well, as clean as you can – on the steps of the the Stockholm Concert Hall and join the crowd sitting in the sun, with a great view of the statue of Orpheus on your left and the market in all its small glory in front of you.