Swirls of something resembling tan Cheez Whiz decorated the hardboiled-egg slices on thin, dense bread studded with sunflower seeds ($3). “Swedes like tubed food,” said Fisk’s owner Annika Sundvik, referring to Kalles Kaviar, smoked fish roe that comes in a kitschy blue tube.
When reading the hottest Swedish mystery authors, you never hear about Swedish cuisine, tubed or otherwise. Stieg Larsson’s Lisbeth Salander and Mikael Blomkvist exist on coffee and cigarettes, and Henning Mankell’s Detective Kurt Wallander has a junk food habit. There must be a café like Fisk on Wallander’s beat, but he’d likely only go there on a date. This Swedish newcomer not only sells nine flavors of herring—including blueberry and jalopeño—but also offers fanciful open-faced sandwiches (Fisk is open 11 a.m.- 7 p.m., Tuesday-Sunday). I sampled several, delighting in the spare rustic setting and the burble of Swedish around me. While novel, Kalles Kaviar was too salty and overpowering. I preferred the smoked peppered mackerel sandwich with tomato, chives and red onion ($4) or herring swathed in a delicate mustard sauce plopped on a potato slice and a round of pumpernickel ($2). As I was leaving, the ubiquitous Swedish meatballs appeared on the counter, topping cucumbers, creamy majenta pickled beets and homemade bread ($6). Salander, Blomkvist and Wallander: Get to Fisk!
77 Delancey St. (at Allen Street)
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