Chapter 6: When Life Gives You Lemons, Make AquavitIn my mother’s kitchen, beet soup simmered on the stove top, and in the fridge, gravlax waited to be served with a side of Scandinavian mustard. Chilling in the freezer, was my dad’s homemade Aquavit, the bottle all foggy when you took it out. I loved to hold that bottle in my hand, warming the glass until the lemon wedges appeared floating like pieces of the sun in an Arctic sea. The taste of that first gulp after a bite of something sweet was sheer heaven.
If home had a taste, I believed that would be it. Happy, sugary, with a dash of bitter to remind you not to take it for granted. And of course, if you had too much of it, it went to straight your head.
A little like us Lunds.
“Turn the heat down a bit.” At the marble kitchen island
