A Journey of Flavour and Love: From China to Sweden

I grew up in Nanjing, one of China’s ancient capitals, a city where where the weight of history is lightened by the scent of spices floating through the air.

When I was little, my grandfather picked me up from kindergarten every afternoon. On our way home, he would always buy me something tasty. Hand in hand, we walked, chatted, and nibbled our way home, one small treat at a time.

In winter, my favorite treat was a hot, fragrant roasted sweet potato from a roadside stall. The old man who sold them was even older than Grandpa. His hands were darkened by years of tending the charcoal fire. I can still feel the warmth of that soft, sweet potato wrapped in thin paper when he handed it to me.

Grandpa was from Chongqing, a misty mountain city known for its bold and spicy flavors. His cooking was always full of life: chili oil, Sichuan pepper, fermented black beans, and spicy broad bean paste (dou ban jiang)were the heartbeat of every meal.

He also loved telling stories, like the time he traded a bowl of scallion noodles for someone teaching him how to solve a difficult math problem. That story stayed with me. Later, when I became a schoolgirl, I swear I could sometimes smell scallion oil in math class.

All those flavors became part of me. When I moved to Sweden, I brought them along and shared them with my family and friends. Almost everyone fell in love with them.

Now, through Mei Mei, I want to share those same wonderful and heartwarming tastes with you, my dear friend.

I hope that with these mouthwatering flavors in your daily life, you’ll feel as happy and content as the little child I once was, your heart filled with love, warmth, and precious memories.

And Grandpa’s story is only the beginning. There are many more flavors and memories I can’t wait to share — from my grandma, from my mom, and from the city of Nanjing where I grew up, if you’d like to follow this journey.

This is the Taste of Mei Mei.