Sweden's local heroes

As I head across Drottningtorget from Gothenburg’s central station to the Clarion Hotel Post, there’s a palpable buzz — a DJ plays dance tracks while tourists and locals cram on to the covered terrace. The sound of post-work chatter and the smoky barbecue smell of grilled corn waft down to the tram-lined square.

It’s a fitting welcome to a city crowned Food Capital of Sweden 2012, whose industrial name is being overtaken by that of a culinary hotspot, as heavy industry gives way to more modern, design-led business (not to mention a new “Goth rock”, the very antithesis of squeaky-clean Abba). An emblem of the intense regeneration Sweden’s second city is currently undergoing, the Clarion Hotel Post is the newest to open and in one of its most significant buildings, the old post office.

The 1920s monolith is now a 500-room hotel, luring guests through its glitzy gilded entrance complete with a red carpet, two hip bars and restaurants and a rooftop swimming pool. Many original features have been retained by the Gothenburg architects behind the transformation, with the original tiles fringing the windows and the copper and slate wrapped around the building mirroring the original.

Fittingly, the Norda Bar & Grill is the baby of Marcus Samuelsson, famed for Red Rooster, his Afro-Swedish restaurant in Harlem, New York, and for feeding Barack Obama at the White House. The Ethiopian-born, Gothenburg-raised chef fuses Swedish and transatlantic flavours here, installing Jimmy Lappalainen as head chef, back from his 10-year stint across the Atlantic working alongside Samuelsson at Aquavit and Red Rooster.

The Swedish-US fusion means the menu mixes typically North American cuts of meat such as short ribs (served with barbecue sauce and black-eyed peas) with the west coast of Sweden’s bountiful seafood such as oysters with melon granite, dill and cucumber. Local staff combine an informal style — wearing a laid-back uniform of locally made cotton cream shirts and bow ties — with being well-informed about each dish. From the bar below, music drifts up, and I eat overlooking the massive, shiny black-tiled lobby.

But this Gothenburg eating odyssey is only just beginning. A new day brings new dining. Overlooking the old harbour entrance, Fiskekrogen has an understated exterior, identifiable by the simple gold lobster motif splayed above the door. The interior is painted oceanic shades of green, and, here, finally the word smorgasbord can be used in its proper sense. There are piles of prawns, langoustines, lobster and truffled potato salad. Only the starter is served — a bowl with three artfully placed mussels and dill over which the waiter pours a creamy, fishy broth.

I wander along the canal, which cuts through the mainly Dutch-built city — hence its resemblance to Amsterdam — like a ribbon of green towards the cobblestoned Haga (old town), passing under a row of jeans strung up across the street. These are Nudie, the Gothenburg-made denim outselling major brands — the Norda staff sport Nudie aprons. It seems that for locals, loyalty extends beyond food. Ducking through a courtyard, I cut through Da Matteo, with giant sacks of coffee beans piled high, unfinished wooden floors and a young crowd lingering over fika — coffee and a spiced bun.

Not far from here, in Vasastan, the one-Michelin-starred Kock & Vin (one of only four Michelin-starred places here) is owned by the very personable chef Bjorn Persson, the polar opposite of shouty, egotistical chefs. His dedication to local produce is second to none, with most coming from local farms and Gothenburg’s own fish market. He grows his own produce in his garden and supplies beetroot, flowers, radish and carrots to the restaurant kitchen. That must beat any definition of “locally sourced” hands down.

His attention to detail extends to the tables — glittering granite-like stones collected by his son (with a fatherly bribe of 10 krona) on the beach in Asa balance three types of breads and creamy butter served on a wooden pat, made in-house from sour cream, cream and sea salt. Likeable staff with an impressive knowledge bring me baked langoustine from the Bohuslän coast with watercress, sago and tomato pulp from Trollasen, and tender lamb from Bitterna with stewed morels, cabbage and dried elderflowers. All heavenly.

You’re never far from fish in Gothenburg. Feskekörka, literally “fish church”, is a Gothic church-shaped building devoted to fish. Beady-eyed black live langoustines wave their claws, giant silvery cod loll among the catfish, mackerel and prawns. Upstairs at one end is Gabriel’s, run by chef Johan Malm — a lofty, bearded expert on Swedish oysters and winner of the world championships in oyster-shucking (2010). “Once a champion, always a champion,” he grins (a local tells me he’s something of a celebrity, with girls getting giddy in his presence).