Cooked some excellent white asparagus a couple of days ago; thanks to helping out, I got a 67% discount on them! Apparently they're really expensive this time of year. We made brown butter mixed with parsley and chopped almonds. Magick.

That same day indicated two things: 1) Swedish last-year students - in upper secondary school - are starting to wear a white hat, which means that 2) they're prone to binge drink themselves into a stupor and, oh, also 3) you're no longer wishing you were a teenager again and yeah, most of these fuckers are now legally granted the right to drink in pubs. Here's to purple-coloured shots and snakebites ((50/50 concoction of beer and cider.))!

Walpurgis night. Only a few countries celebrate this, but as it means we get one-and-a-half bank holiday off, we're embracing it fully. I believe Swedes would celebrate throwing parasites children into a big ole furnace if it would get us another bank holiday!

We spent ours just gazing into a smallish fire a short walk away from home, right here in our tiny suburb of Bagarmossen. People were gathered, children ran amok, the more pyromaniac children desperately searched for anything they could legally throw into the fire, and I remember I used to be just like the latter; little wonder did I seldom see my sister at the Walpurgis rites I attended.

Thanks to Bobby and Malin, we were treated to a bunch of Pop-Tarts, that zany symbol of the free west. If you've never tasted it - make haste. It's a simple and vulgar Willy Wonkan mish-mash of sweet. It's good. Just imagine caramel syrup mixed with sugar, a pinch of salt (I may be mad but that's how it tastes to me), some coconut zest, more sugar, cocaine and then contain that mix between two layers of pastry crust. You can eat them as they are, or throw them in a toaster; I've yet to try the latter fashion. They are addictive, but eating one of those gave me the sensation of eating two full English breakfasts at once.