Bright ideas
There’s no denying that Sweden packs quite a punch on theworld stage, but its cuisine is less well known. One eccentric restaurateur in Britain is trying to change all that
words by Sally Howard
Anna Mosesson’s young life sounds a little like a fairytale. Of Swedish, Finnish and Scots blood, the pale-eyed, pink-cheeked blonde is the daughter of a baron (Karl Knutsson Bonde). She grew up in a draughty castle in Scotland, spending her days tugging at the apron strings of Fanny, the family’s much-loved Swedish/ Finnish cook. “I have to say, I do play up the aristocracy a little,” says Mosesson, with one of the rumbustious chuckles that punctuate her speech, startling the uninitiated. “I mean, why not, if everyone loves it? It’s one of the reasons we called the new restaurant Upper Glas.”
Upper Glas, on the second floor of a former tram building on Upper Street in London’s Islington, is Mosesson’s third restaurant and, as with her previous ventures, it’s coloured by her personality. The interior was inspired by the plump reds and greens in Swedish artist Carl Larsson’s painting Lilla Suzanne, and the menu represents a whimsical take on the Swedish staples that made Mosesson’s name. Much of it, she says, is thanks to Fanny: “I loved her food as a child, and it haunted me. As an adult, I simply couldn’t find that taste in Britain – the strong flavours, the dill. So I started a little Swedish catering business.” Mosesson’s business was small in size, but not in stature. Soon she was selling Swedish delicacies to Harrods and catering for events such as Placido Domingo’s 40th birthday, which was hosted by Princess Diana.
When her mother died in 1997, Mosesson decided to invest her inheritance in a small shop and café called Scandelicious in her coastal hometown of Aldeburgh, Suffolk. Scandelicious quickly found fame among in-the-know British gourmets, in particular for the gravadlax and silky pickled herrings. “Then people wrote about it – my little café! – and it really surprised me,” says Mosesson, her body jiggling up and down with the schoolgirl timbre of her speech, “I was there by myself with a young Swedish boy working with me, just 20 covers.” As brisk as business was during the summer, in winter Aldeburgh, like many seaside towns, stuttered to a crawl. “I had to keep paying my boy,” says Mosesson. “Somebody told me about this small food market in London, so I took my Swedish goodies there. There were only six of us stallholders then. It was a scruffy business, but it was great fun.”
The market was Borough, an organic and specialist food market that rode the wave of the trend for fine foods in London during the late ’90s. When a larger spot at the edge of the market was offered to Mosesson she leapt at the chance, and Glas was born. “I had this fabulous chef to help me,” she says [Patric Blomquist – Swedish Chef of the Year 1994, according to the Swedish Dairy Association]. “We went wild! Venison with liquorice sauce; stuffed pigs cheeks with foie gras…”
The menu is similarly offbeat in Glas’ new Islington incarnation. Herrings three ways (spiced with sour cream and chives; vodka and lime; or cured in sandalwood) brush up against treats such as meatballs with mash, cream sauce and lingonberries, and fillet of venison with gingerbread sauce, shallots and fennel. These are modern propositions even to Stockholm’s restaurateurs. “I’d love to take Glas to Sweden one day,” says Mosesson. “It’s terrible that stylish restaurants there typically focus on Italian or French food. This is the country that gave us ballbearings, Bergman, the Volvo and the zip. There’s plenty to take pride in and that should extend to the beautiful cuisine.”
Mosesson admits that some of her culinary experiments don’t suit the British palate: “I really wanted to create a moose-lung mousse, but the Brits wouldn’t have gone for it. I’m also having a terrible time trying to buy blood to make black pudding. I’ve no idea what they do with it, but there’s none to be bought anywhere in Britain.” Glas’ Valentine’s Day diners did, however, get to sample Anna’s uniquely fleshy pleasures in the form of smoked elk and reindeer hearts on a beds of nettles and panacotta. “It was a gimmick, perhaps, but heart – and especially ox heart – is a staple of traditional British cooking as well,” she says.
“Scandinavian food is something new for the Brits,” she explains. “They think it’s all herrings and meatballs from the Ikea café. Then again, I think those Ikea meatballs are great, don’t you?” Ikea, apparently, thinks Anna is pretty great too. When she asked the company for a couple of pieces of furniture for Upper Glas, it immediately dispatched a truckload of exclusive pieces from its high-end Stockholm range.
Mass-marketed meatballs aside, the reputation of Swedish food won’t suffer for long if Mosesson has anything to do with it. In addition to the roaring success of Glas, her famously “juicy, cushiony” gravadlax recipe is being showcased in her new book, Swedish Food and Cooking. “The Swedes and the Brits both love nostalgia and romance,” she says, gesturing to the walls of her restaurant. “With candlelight and fine Swedish food, how could you not fall for your lover here?” While you’re at it, we challenge you not to fall for Glas as well.
Upper Glas 359 Upper Street, London +44 (0)20 7359 1932, www.glasrestaurant.co.uk
Scandelicious Mosesson’s market stall is located at Borough Market, 8 Southwark Street, London www.scandelicious.co.uk
Swedish Food and Cooking is available from Harvey Nichols and Amazon (£16.99)
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