Features --> Restaurant Reviews
Sturekatten
Riddargatan 4
Stockholm
Phone: 08- 6111612
The next time you're in Stockholm, there's a little place you need to go. A little oasis of magic, charm and 19th century furniture. A little wormhole which transports you back in time and serves you traditional Swedish pastries, sandwiches and coffee at 21st century prices. I'm referring, of course, to a little place called Sturekatten.
Now, I realize that not many of you will actually make it to Sturekatten. Many of you will think to yourselves "I'm not going to spend 800 bucks on a roundtrip to Sweden just to eat the finest in baked goods and experience the ultimate in ambience."
This is fine.
I don't really care. Honestly, if you're so lacking in intuition, spunk and personality that it would KILL you to experience something new for once in your life then you deserve the crap-a-thon that is your life. If you're so stubborn
and hard-hearted that you won't deign to try Sturekatten's delicious warm apple pie with a creamy vanilla topping then I feel sorry for you. Frankly, it's not my loss - it's yours. I won't have to live with myself never having tried their
twist on the traditional cold meatball sandwich. And I definitely won't be the one waking up in the middle of the night, not having had their fresh, delicious Swedish coffee, thinking "Lord, if only. If only. I'm a huge goddamn baby." And
you know why that is?
It's because I have the FRICKIN' STONES to take a chance and visit what is perhaps the finest "konditori" in all of Stockholm. I laid my balls on the line and stepped inside Sturekatten's cozily decorated confines, sat on its antique
couches and enjoyed the hell out of myself. Maybe if you weren't such a eunuch, you would too. Oh, did I mention that it used to be a brothel? It did. What do you think about that? Oh, I'm sorry, did you just wet yourself?
Yes. Yes, you did. Have a diaper.
But listen. It's your life. When it comes down to it, I'm going to be the globetrotting, palate-expanding adventurer and you're going to be the suburb-dwelling wheezebag who never saw a strip mall you didn't like. Think about THAT next time you're wolfing down an Auntie Anne's cinnamon-butter-whatever-the-crap pretzel thinking that it's the height of snacking luxury. If ever you were to eat Sturekatten's prinsess tårta ("princess cake" for those of you who, horrors! don't speak Swedish), a marzipan covered cake traditional at all Swedish summer parties, perhaps you'd reconsider. But
considering that you'll never leave your two-bit hometown, I'd imagine that that pretzel is, unfortunately, going to be the ultimate in deliciousness. Ignorance is bliss, I guess. Which must make you the happiest crapwhacker in the whole FUGGIN' world. Go choke on a stick.
In summary, five balls.
- Stefan Lawrence
