The Turning Torso and Grandma’s Slippers

We were in Malmö this weekend, as part of an informal gathering of Scandinavian friends. Clare and I are honorary Scandies, and we wear our horned hats with pride. It was a real blast, and we discovered some whole new taste sensations.
Salted liquorice, for example. Sounds dreadful, but the light salting brings out the savoury aspects of the flavour, bouncing the aniseedy flavour around the mouth in a deeply intruiging way. There are tons of different kinds, including a hot version, which when ground and added to Korskenkova vodka becomes this stuff. Syrupy, aniseed flavoured grain alcohol. It has a certain something. A cough syrup sort of something.
Now, add that to Bailey’s. You have the danger-packed thrill-ride that is the Grandma’s Slipper.
You now have sweet and salty, creamy and spicy, boozy and boozier, all in one mouthful. It’s like Scandinavia in a shot glass; slightly odd, not what you’d expect and huge amounts of fun.
Why Grandma’s Slippers? They’re soft and they smell funny.
Malmö is a lovely city, full of open squares ringed with cafes and bars, some beautiful old architecture mingled in with cool bits of modern sculpture, and a river running through it. Tons of cinemas too, gratifyingly, and mostly showing arthouse and independent films as opposed to the usual Hollywood tosh.

But it’s a city that’s gradually changing. New developments with a clean, open feel are sprouting up as part of a public works programme by the bay. A major landmark here is the Turning Torso, which reminded me a little of the Burj-al-Arab in Dubai, or indeed the Spinnaker in Portsmouth. It’s the tallest skyscraper in Scandinavia.

No, the sections don’t move independently. If they did, it would be the cause of the highest incidence of motion sickness in Scandinavia.
Clare and I had a blast this weekend. Props and shouts to all the Lashers we met. Good people all.