I Learn to Fika in Minneapolis
Day 8, DeDakis Loop
July 29, 2024
All I really knew about Minneapolis besides the fact that the Torell family came from nearby was that the Artist Formerly Known as Prince, before his untimely death, made Minneapolis look pretty cool (there’s an “In the Footsteps of Prince” tour and you can actually visit his home, Paisley Park). Oh yeah, and the Mary Tyler Moore Show was set there. So, I was ready, ouchy flesh wound and all, to learn more, meet a cousin, and explore her city. By the end of the day, I’d not only do that, I’d Fika with my cousins and love it! It was a great time in Minneapolis.
I left the Professor at Lebanon Hills Regional Park Campground in the trailer with Kota and Tex and picked up Darlene. The campground is a beautiful, seemingly remote place in an urban setting. The rivers and lakes were high as we drove in on Hwy 77 though we saw no other evidence of the flooding that was all over the news that week. Rainstorms had been pounding the Midwest for days and we’d seen newscasts warning of the imminent breach of the Rapidan Dam near Mankato (ultimately most of it held though a substation, home, and more were swept away in the raging waters that had increased from 500 cubic feet per second to 34,800 cubic feet per second).
It was hot and humid as I had expected it would be and I was thankful for the huge shady trees in my cousin Cindy’s charming Minneapolis neighborhood, It was the kind of place I might like to live if I liked living in cities.
Darlene and I Wazed in as I gave silent thanks (not for the first or last time) for the advent of GPS and apps that let me I turn left and right as if I knew the way. The traffic, I’d heard, that could be so bad wasn’t. We were right on time, flowers in hand.
Cindy is a 3rd cousin who might as well be a 1st. We liked her immediately. Our great grandfathers were brothers or something like that. I may not have it quite right… ours is a big family tree with many different branches. Despite that, we are family. Her neat as a pin Scandinavian-inspired home was pleasant and welcoming. We admired her treasures, family trees, symbols, and a photo of the home in Sweden where Darlene and my great grandfather Jonas Persson Torell was born. She gave us big booklets of information about our family that we’d never seen before. There’s a photo of Jonas in them.
He sat, roughly 100 years ago, in a chair holding what looks like a cane, looking straight into the camera. I recognize the twinkle in his eyes and his strong square chin. Grampie, Ted, inherited that and his dimpled chin. Grammie used to say dimples like his were of the devil. If that was true, Jonass was an ornery gene carrier too.
On Cindy’s dining room table sat three kinds of pastries: croissants, and two sweet ones. As we sat and talked, we ate and filled in blanks about past generations, people of whom I often heard my grandparents and parents speak. Cindy explained the Swedish tradition of fika, a word that is both noun and verb (“let’s fika!”) pairs coffee with cake or cookies. It brought back memories of Grammie making sure she had many different kinds of cookies handy for 10 o’clock coffee for Grampie and her brother and when we visited, us too. According to Cindy, offering guests seven different kinds of cookies at one time was not only good manners, it was expected of Swedes. So doing branded the hostess as courteous and hospitable. Over time the tradition loosened somewhat, allowing for fewer varieties of cookies and including cakes. We were impressed. Fikaing was fun and tasty too.
Not long after, Cindy said it was time to fika again, but this time at the American Swedish Institute. Instead of cookies, cake, or coffee, Fika is a Swedish restaurant where Cindy insisted on buying lunch. I asked if she and Darlene would be willing to get different entre dishes and share them. They were.
Fika serves “new Nordic” cuisine, most of which I’d never tasted. To start with we had a drink. Mine sounded interesting but visually wasn’t – it was gray, probably due to the combination of things that went into it. It was a Kosmic Skaaling (Aquavit, Blue Curacao, Triple Sec, lime, and lingonberry). Darlene and Cindy had wine.
Cindy ordered for us: a Haus Salad (butter lettuce, clothbound cheddar, Marcona almond, apple cider vinegar, and lemon oil), Swedish Meatballs – Juniper-spiced, potato puree, cucumber, lingonberry, mustard sauce (because how could you not?), Gravlax (Dill Creme Fraiche, Black Radish, Beet, Pink Peppercorn, Danish Rye), Cauliflower (with White Bean Puree, Tangerine Chili Olive Tapenade, Pepitas), and Cardamom Bread Pudding (with carmel sauce and whipped cream). It was exquisite.
After lunch we went through the museum which was exhibiting the works of Karin Larsson. Larsson was a Swedish artist who focused on textiles and interior design. Her work established “the iconic Swedish style that continues to inspire contemporary artists worldwide.” The colors and simplicity which she often included in her style have influenced artists, designers, and others for the last 100 years and largely influenced IKEA, as well.
Next door to the Institute, the Turnblad Mansion, once home to Swan J. Turnblad and his family, was next. It was built between 1904 and 1908 (it took awhile) by Mr. Turnblad, a Swedish immigrant and newspaper publisher. It’s been called a castle due to its grandeur and size. With its pitched roof and turret, it’s “reminiscent of French Renaissance architecture known as chateauesque.” Constructed out of Indiana limestone (with million-year old fossils embedded!) it even has hand-carved gargoyles and lions. It’s said that the Turnblad Mansion is one of just 8 still-existing buildings constructed during what’s been called the Park Avenue era of 1885 to 1921 on Minneapolis’ Golden Mile. Darlene and I trailed after Cindy, our mouths agape. The mansion was beyond anything we’d seen. If architecture’s your thing, there’s a guided walking tour of the Golden Mile you can take. For sure, visit the Turnblad Mansion – tickets are available at the Museum next door.
From cultural and architectural masterpieces to a natural one, our final stop of the day was at Minnehaha Falls (where you can get an inexpensive self-guided audio tour and explore on your own). A regional park, the centerpiece of the park is the famous waterfall that has nothing to do with the common “laughing waters” translation and everything to do with the Dakota word for waterfall.
By this time it was late afternoon and humid. We looked over the falls, the same ones that Lyndon B. Johnson overlooked in 1964 while setting his footprints in cement. Reportedly, it was a dry year and the city’s leaders ordered every hydrant up river turned on so the falls would flow. I’m not sure why it was meaningful to stand in his footsteps – maybe because it’s an election year and I just can’t find my candidate – but it was. My feet nearly fit his large prints.
“I coulda been President,” I said to no one in particular.
As we headed back to Cindy’s to leave for Apple Valley, I pondered what had been a very full day. We didn’t go see Prince’s home, we didn’t visit the Mary Tyler Moore statue. We did something better. We got to know another branch of the family. We learned about the Torell family’s Swedish heritage and I understand now why Grammie made (and served) so many cookies. Even when they’d visit, she’d bring huge tins of cookies along.
Darlene and I finished our very full day with dinner at the Mall of the Americas. Little gymnasts were in town trying out for the US Olympic Team and they were all over the place the evening we visited. Impressive for its size and the fact that it has amusement-style rides like roller coasters and such, at the end of the day, it was just another mall. If you want to shop and have kids with you, you’ll be fine. Close to the airport, hotels, as you might imagine, are plentiful.
All in all, the day in Minneapolis with Cindy and Darlene was exceptional. We spent time together. We reconnected our branches to an important root And we fikaed in more ways than one.
Huge thumbs up for Day 8. Carpe diem!