Just as months of grilling and salads have put me into a food coma, New Nordic cuisine peeked over the horizon. Several Scandinavian breakfast places do populate Chicago, yet their emphasis on sweets collides with my preference for strong coffee and plain eggs, so I am not a repeat customer.
At New York City’s Grand Central Station, however, chefs from Denmark and Iceland have launched an entire food hall dedicated to New Nordic. Their focus is not confections, but my favorite member of the food pyramid. Vegetables! However, what really piqued my interest was this idea: leaving carrots in the ground longer to further age them before roasting. I’ve heard this story once before.
When my husband and I were in Reykjavik, I asked our server to surprise me with a dish considered unique to Icelandic cookery. She delivered a plate of raw cured shark. I sent it back after one revolting taste. Subsequently learning that the shark was buried prior to being served neither improved my meal nor the evening. Buried carrots sounds like a much more palatable bet, as do delectably-described open-faced Nordic sandwiches on buttered rye.
A meal is not much of a commitment, but with technologically-delivered obligations, I take my time. In the case of watching the HBO hit Game of Thrones, pulling the trigger took six years. I balked at reports of heinous violence, and could not imagine how adding fantasy would be an upgrade. Totally wrong. The scenery, the medieval costuming, Khaleesi with her dragons; eventually I will mourn the conclusion of this show with the same despair I felt over the final episode of Downton Abbey.
The newest rage, Pokémon Go, also sounds amusing, yet I feel internal pressure to resist dropping into a cartoon world when my evenings are replete with knights. After all, I have finally seen a Minions episode, and am contemplating travel for Nordic sandwiches.
Amidst dizzying choices, mindful choosing prevails. (c)
