Lunch at Riche, Stockholm

There’s something you should know about Sundays in Stockholm. Nearly everything is shut. When you combine that with shite weather and being forced to wear blue ponchos basically pointing out that you’re a tourist, you’re pretty limited for options.

We walked around for a bit before deciding enough was enough. Thankfully, we found ourselves on a pretty nice street, which was followed by stumbling accross a restaurant which reminded me of Paris.






Honestly, all I cared about at this point was that I was dry. And I was about to eat.

How sweet are the menus? Maybe the owner’s kid drew them. That’s what I like to think.



Yes, bread basket, yes. I fell in love with the little rolls of butter.



Okay, Hayden has never had poached eggs. Ever. I don’t know how that is possible. It literally blew my mind. That’s why it was a BIG deal when she ordered an Eggs Florentine. Holy shit.

She was scared about “getting salmonella from the uncooked parts”, which was a cross between the funniest and cutest sentance ever.


Gabby ordered the Eggs Royale. She’s had poached eggs. It was less of a big deal.


I’d overloaded from Fika for the past couple of days, so I was determined to be good and have a salad. It was Salad with smoked salmon, chopped egg, browned butter, whitefish roe crème and pickled fennel.


It was really good, but I just have two observations. One is that by ‘chopped egg’ I thought it was a chopped hard-boiled egg. I was wrong – it was like a dry scrambed egg or something? And secondly, I’ve discovered that smoked salmon in Scandinavia is a lot more salty than anywhere else. Also, update, Hayden very much enjoyed her poached eggs.

We were still not prepared to battle the rain, so after the first couple of hours of sitting there we then ordered some drinks. Hayden got a latte, which she found a teeny little black hair in. Source is still unconfirmed.


I wanted a mint tea, and asked if they had any since I couldn’t see it on the menu. The waiter said he didn’t, but he would take care of it. He then very nicely popped a pot of fresh mint tea in front of me. I’m in love.


After a good 3-4 hours of eating, drinking, chatting and observing a creepy guy kept turning around to blatantly stare at us every 3 minutes, we felt it was time to brave the rain to pick up our suitcases.

Back to Denmark we go!

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