F12/Fredsgatan 12

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Someone once asked me, what would I like if I didn’t like food? I like a bunch of stuff, like the darkest shade of black or the smell of an old book with yellowed pages. As a kid, I had a love/fake hate relationship with my dad always rubbing his stubble against my face before kissing me on the cheek. He doesn’t do it anymore and I guess we’d probably get some weird stares if he did. But even though likes and dislikes change over time, food has always been a staple. It definitely has a lot to do with upbringing as Malaysians are notorious foodies, always on the prowl for the best X dish or Y noodles.

Today, a long term relationship with food has led to some fiscal irresponsibility. Thankfully my mom makes more concessions with spending money on food as opposed to that blazer from Urban Outfitters that I can’t get out of my head. I try to at least be somewhat conscious of money spent and above all to enjoy the entire experience since it means I will be having riskakor and Prästost for the next week or so.

Jordan and I have a bunch of restaurants on our hit list to do before we leave Swedenland for good. Today features F12 aka Fredsgatan 12 and if Shakespeare were to ask what’s in a name your answer would be ‘the address’. Danyel Couet I see what you did there.

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Fresh bread in a box. The pseudo-baguette slices on the left have the perfect ratio of crunchy exterior to pillowy innards and go really well with the sea salt butter. However the better of the two was definitely the flat breadsticks in the compartment on the right. If I was the Queen of a dystopian world, I would wield a giant staff much like these breadsticks encrusted not with silly valuable semi-precious stones but with cumin seeds, rosemary and thyme. Image

The starter to our express lunch. Crudité salad was light and refreshing which goes without saying considering how paper thin every piece is. The word ‘crudité salad’ really should be considered a tautology except nowadays the word salad doesn’t even mean raw vegetables but just any mixture of edible stuff.Image

You pick your choice of main from the à la carte list which features about five options that include a steak that Jordan got, some kind of vegetarian based gnocchi, a fish dish and what I ordered above, chicken. I don’t usually order chicken when I eat out because it’s probably the meat I cook the most at home but this was extremely succulent, not even remotely dry. The name on the menu is ‘Farmed Chicken with Wine Boiled Cabbage and Chervil’. To the uninitiated in food vocabulary such as myself, chervil is just the French parsley plonked on top of the chicken. Why that deserves a mention in the name is beyond me. I highly recommend this dish.Image

Main course intermission, this is the side of vegetables that came with Jordan’s steak. I was given a bowl of mash, which while was very good mash isn’t at all inspiring to look at.Image

Jordan’s flank steak with asparagus and tarragon. I suppose herb garnishes really are an important component.Image

The dessert was more of a half course, featuring this little pot that they call a ‘sweet’ on the menu. It’s a peach slice, freeze-dried raspberries with some pistachios and crumble.Image

I really like the tea infuser they gave me for my tea for the elegance in the shape of the metal wire and how it’s basically just a cyborg tea bag. And speaking of tea infusers, the loose leaf Japanska sencha from Jordan is what is fuelling me to write this post. Good night all.

 

samanthawxlow

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