Sweden brings weaving, wool, and glogg to the table
Sweden, when it comes to "only the best," is primarily about a well-laid table and a cozy sofa. Tea towels, table runners, and placemats come from the weaving mill in Horred, the wool blankets from Skåne. Add to that what Fika and Advent require: Smålandsglögg, salted licorice from Helsingborg, cocoa-dusted truffles from Gothenburg, and a gin from Norrbotten, distilled a good seventy kilometers south of the Arctic Circle.
Swedish specialties begin for us with the tablecloth, because most of what makes up Sweden's "only the best" comes from the loom. Towels, runners, and blankets originate from two houses whose histories began in 1692 and 1879. To this, we add what the Swedish winter and the coffee table demand – glogg, licorice, truffles, and a gin from the Bothnian Bay. If you want to bring Sweden to your table, start here with the textiles.
Fika, meatballs, and the summer of crayfish
Sweden is long, and its cuisine changes with the landscape: grain fields and roast goose define Skåne; forests, lakes, and red wooden houses characterize Småland; archipelagos line the coasts in front of Stockholm and Gothenburg. Far in the north, cloudberries, reindeer, and the silence of Lapland await.
The day is held together by Fika, the coffee break with pastries. Sweden takes this break so seriously that the *kanelbulle*—the cinnamon bun—has had its own honorary day on October 4th since 1999. Crispbread with butter and cheese is a staple for coffee, while meatballs with mashed potatoes, cream sauce, and lingonberries are a staple for lunch. On the smorgasbord, herring lies side-by-side in many marinades: with mustard, with dill, with onion.
Summer begins with Midsommar, when people dance around the maypole. Then herring, new potatoes with dill, and the first strawberries come to the table, along with a schnapps and a song before every glass. August brings the *kräftskiva*, the crayfish party under colorful paper lanterns in the garden.
On the third Thursday in August, the brave then open the first can of *surströmming*—fermented herring—outdoors, a dish whose reputation precedes it. Anyone thinking of Bullerbyn is right—only the can does not appear in any children's book.
Glogg, punch, and a gin south of the Arctic Circle
Sweden has no vineyards, but it does have its own drinking order: wine and spirits are sold only by the state-owned Systembolaget, and every occasion calls for a specific glass.
During Advent, that means glogg—hot, spiced with cinnamon, cloves, and cardamom, served with almonds and raisins in the glass and gingerbread on the side. Schnapps with caraway or dill goes with herring, and a glass of punch goes with pea soup on Thursdays—a habit still cultivated in Sweden today.
Vinfabriken has been mixing its Smålandsglögg since 2009 with ingredients from the neighborhood, using lingonberries and apples. It is available as apple glogg and as punch completely without alcohol—Swedish specialties for the weeks when it gets dark at four o'clock.
Way up north, in Töre on the Bothnian Bay, Norrbottens Destilleri has been distilling a gin since 2016, whose botanicals come from the landscapes along the Kalix River. Birch leaves are picked in late spring, mountain angelica grows throughout Northern Sweden, and Timut pepper from the Himalayas is added.
The Glogg Gin Liqueur from the same house features meadowsweet, picked on Norrbotten's meadows under the midnight sun, plus cardamom, cinnamon, and star anise. Contrary to what its name might suggest, it is best enjoyed well-chilled, neat or on ice.
Salted licorice from Helsingborg and truffles from Gothenburg
Swedish sweets are a science in themselves, with their own rules and rituals. At the top is *lördagsgodis*, the Saturday candy from the wall with the little scoops—and a love for the salty, because Swedish licorice is in no way inferior to the Danish kind.
Martin Jörgensen, a trained chef and later a sommelier, introduced his licorice on April 9, 2011, at the Licorice Festival in Stockholm. Since then, Lakritsfabriken in Helsingborg has been cooking salty and sweet Swedish licorice, seasoned with real anise oil, as short rolls in a flat black folding box. Since 2019, the licorice root has been growing on eight hectares of their own land in Southern Sweden. The licorice sticks with sea salt are also coated in chocolate.
In Gothenburg in 2001, Katharina and Jean-Claude Eggel opened a shop for fine chocolate in the Linné district. Ten years later, they began rolling their own: cocoa-dusted truffles inspired by the French style, soft because the coconut fat in them melts at just 25 degrees Celsius. La Praline Scandinavia produces them today in Viared near Borås, in natural, sea salt, and salted caramel varieties—the box still says La Praline Gothenburg.
Table runners from Horred and wool blankets from Skåne
Hardly any country sets the table as consciously as Sweden: runners, placemats, and napkins change with the seasons, and for Fika, there is always something woven under the cup. That is exactly why this chapter is the heart of our Swedish page.
In Horred, south of Gothenburg, Ekelund has been weaving since 1692, now in its eleventh generation. The house has been supplying the Swedish court since 1878 and has held the GOTS label since 2017. Tea towels, table runners, placemats, and tablecloths are created from linen and cotton using their own proprietary weaving technique. The patterns tell the whole story of Sweden: the old *Attebladrose*, *Sommartid* with flowers, *Kräftskiva* with crayfish, *Tomtemöte* with gnomes, plus the Moomins.
The Attebladrose is one of the classic Swedish patterns that fits any table, from breakfast to the *julbord*—and our grandmothers knew that too.
Further south, in Klippan in Skåne, Klippan Yllefabrik has been weaving lamb's wool blankets since 1879, thought through from the sheep to the finished blanket. The blankets are named Gotland, Ralph, Harald, and Knut, and there are also cushion covers in the zigzag pattern of the Chevron series. The Gotland wool blanket in caramel looks on the sofa as if it had always been there.
As a gift, this becomes a Swedish evening in a package: a table runner, a bottle of glogg, a box of salted licorice. Whoever unwraps it sets the table, puts the pot on the stove, and has nothing else to decide for the rest of the evening. Anything else we have that is woven and knitted can be found under Home Textiles.
Weavers in the eleventh generation and a chef at the licorice kettle
Swedish products often bear a founding year that is older than many a nation-state, and behind them are families and individualists known by their first names.
At Ekelund in Horred, the loom has been in family hands since 1692, for eleven generations. Martin Jörgensen in Helsingborg moved from cooking and wine to licorice. In 2012, his company even set the world record for the longest licorice stick—519 meters, rolled out near Malmö.
Dennis Bejedal, who traveled the world as a poker pro for thirteen years, moved to Norrbotten and founded his distillery in Töre in 2016. His principle is fusion: a plant from next door meets one from far away. Dennis says that in Töre, you are hit by the aromas of nature, sea, and mountains the moment you open the front door. And Katharina Eggel once described the division of labor with Jean-Claude by saying that one hits the brakes while the other hits the gas.
From the first glogg to the Midsommar table
Swedish specialties follow the calendar, and the weaving mill follows it too. From the first Advent, the glogg moves to the stove, and Ekelund lays *Julpromenad* and *Tomtemöte* on the table. St. Lucia's Day on December 13th calls for saffron buns, candlelight, and white robes. In spring, *Vildblomster* and *Vårblommor* arrive; in summer, *Sommarprimörer* and *Sjöbod*; in autumn, *Höstfröjd* and *Äppelbär*.
Sweden is suitable for gifting at any time, from a tea towel as a small souvenir to a wool blanket for a milestone birthday. Pre-packed ideas can be found under Gifts, and all the countries we buy from are gathered on the Regions page.
Across the Öresund lies Denmark, where tea is weighed and licorice is coated—Sweden remains the country that sets the table before it fills it. And should the glogg ever run out: the blanket from Klippan will keep you warm regardless.