We had dinner hours ago but the place still smells like a galley of Swedish meatballs. Shortly after eating dinner, our babysitter arrived and we dashed out of the house with a counter full of dirty Calphalon. The meatballs? Not bad, though I used a variation on the recipe I brought home from Sweden years ago. I added a little dill to the mixture. And we skipped the sauce. Here’s to our Swedish friends, back in Sweden and around the globe.
When 10 pounds of potatoes and a couple dozen ears of corn show up unannounced, welcome them home to the chowder pot. After transforming our