The bespectacled browser passes stands of umbrellas, racks of aloha shirts and shelves of hunting hats before finding what he wants: a charcoal-grey double-breasted blazer from Tiger of Sweden, a local brand founded in 1903, and revamped in the 1990s. It’s an apt choice to make at Herr Judit, a store that sells vintage men’s clothing and accessories, as well as newer items. At the counter, a shop assistant sporting a Rosie the Riveter-style headscarf punches sums into a calculator with one hand while a chihuahua perches on the other one. She deposits the dog on a stool and gets up to arrange some bow ties on a fan of wooden rails. Herr Judit is a few doors down Hornsgatan from Judits, the womenswear store from which it branched off; also on the same street is its home interiors branch, Brandstationen. It sells pieces from the late 17th century onwards, but one speciality is 1950s Italian lamps, which apparently suit Scandinavian furniture well.
8. The Meal
A fleet in mid-air greets diners at Oaxen, a restaurant with a dual identity, named after the archipelago island on which it began. Three years ago, it moved to an old shipyard on a tiny, quiet inlet at the edge of the capital. This partly explains the single scull and other old boats hanging in the light that streams through the west-facing windows in the larger of its two dining rooms, Oaxen Slip. A door at the back leads to its double Michelin-starred sibling: Oaxen Krog, a more meditative spate, lined with slatted oak panels. Slip’s take on Swedish bistro dishes includes tartare of beef topside with sour cream, Dijon mayo, shallots and sourdough crumbs, followed by a chocolate and caramel cake out of a childhood dream. At Krog, a typical offering might be quail, grilled over spruce and redolent of the Swedish forest, served with a trio of celeriac: fried, as a velvety puree, or pickled with dandelions.