It was in the height of summer – and blåbär (blueberry) season – when Sebastian, Little Tyra and I made the four hour journey to Hagfors to spend the week with Sebastian’s family. We spent many beautiful hours in the sun dappled forests, harvesting blåbär and staining our fingers and mouths. Sebastian taught me how to gently hold the plant to help the berries come off with ease. After the harvest, we bagged up the berries and they’ve been gathering ice ever since.
But today, the thought came to me to do something special with them, and Sebastian suggested blåbärspaj (blueberry pie) in essence it’s a Swedish summer on a plate. I happily let Sebastian take charge in the kitchen and with Little Tyra’s help, he baked while I went out in search of vaniljsås (vanilla sauce).
When I came back home, bringing the autumn cold with me (it’s nearly time for gloves again), a come-hither smell greeted me and I walked into the kitchen to find a sumptuous dessert resting on the stove top. The blueberry juice had crept up the sides of the pie dish, and peeked through the softly browned topping. I feel proud of my boyfriend every day, but today, as I looked down at pie he had so lovingly prepared, I felt my heart triple in size.
Sebastian dished up while the blåbärspaj was still warm, and we ate it with plenty of vaniljsås. I savoured each mouthful, while sitting back and remembering the long days under the sun. This Fika wasn’t like most of the ones which came before. All three of us had played a part it bringing it together. While summer berries stained our tongues and warmed our bellies, outside the autumn night grew darker and colder and the leaves continued to fall.