Scene 11

Maille hungrily pounced on the salmon – it smelled of dill and various spices, tasted simultaneously salty and sweet, flowery and fishy. After the meal, he took out from his bag a bottle of red wine that he had mindfully bought at a «Systembolaget», a state-run alcohol shop at the main station in Stockholm. After a couple of sips, he reached for the «Kanelbullar». It smelled not just of cinnamon, which its name led one to expect, but also clearly of green cardamom, a spice he found rarely on his travels in Europe. For a moment Maille felt as though he was back in his homeland, where Kap, as Elettaria cardamomum was called on the island, was never missing from any kitchen. At this moment it would not have disturbed him in the least to sit in his garden in Senpuav.

These were kitschy thoughts – and Maille felt as though he had fallen headlong for the rapturous promises of a cookbook. Nevertheless, he closed his eyes and rolled the«Kanelbullar» between his teeth and his gums – if he concentrated on the aroma, perhaps he would feel a bit as if he were on Santa Lemusa. As he tried to feel the north breeze blowing from Mount Majorin on his skin, he asked himself in which adventurous way a spice like cardamom could have found its way from his homeland into this traditional Swedish roll. He got the peculiar feeling that this question was important – but he had no inkling why.

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