In which I re-live my viking past....

I should be asleep now after a night of akvavit and pickled herring, but here I lie awake in my bed wondering how hectic the next few days will be.
This was my last night in Prince George before I leave for the Sweden and France, so my family decided that we could push Christmas up a bit to celebrate with me before I left. We pulled out all the stops. By tradition out family has a huge Swedish Smorgasbord (which translated means sandwich table) complete with about 10 varieties of bread and crackers, 7 of cheeses, caviar (in a tube?) fancy mayonnaise that squeezed out in a star shape! meats, pickles (and not just dill either! there were mustard pickles, and pickled beans, and herring, and pepper, and onion and cauliflower... the list goes on) as well as Swedish meatballs, scalloped potatoes, and ham. There was not a square centimeter of room left on our rather large kitchen island, not even enough to put your plate down so you could put food onto it. It's a good thing that most people who are in attendance have been around for a while, but its always fun watching the techniques of a newcomer... "hm mm, I wonder which cheese I should put on this? and how am I supposed to have room for that? and what exactly is that?"
It was a joyous occasion, and my first experience of akvavit, which translates to "Water of Life." It is a Swedish spirit of about 42% and is followed by a chaser of pickled herring. My entire life I stood up to masses, and refused the pickled herring, but this year I was fortunate enough to have a friend, Rebekah, come up to experience this evening with me, and she boldly dared me to try it. My mother gave some extra confidence to us with the phrase "there is something that happens when the pickled herring hits your mouth, after the akvavit, its like heaven" I have to say that the first "Skol!" felt rather hot going down and I felt it all the way to my stomach, and I was surprised that the pickled herring actually tasted good! (I don't think that it would had I tried it on it's own) After my glass was emptied for the second time, my pickled herring was finished and I was done, but now I know what to expect over the holidays in Sweden. Except I hear that they are rather heavy drinkers, so we'll see...

p.s. the story behing "Skol!" is that vikings used to drink out of their enemies skulls, and this has evolved into saying "Skol!" before a toast.