My sister introduced me to the new licorice Altoids. They are curiously strong, and barely sweet. I cannot find them at my grocery store, and now I’m craving a product I can’t locate in my part of Chicago.
But while driving around with this craving I can’t shake, I remembered a conversation I had a year or two ago with a friend of mine who grew up in Sweden. She was eating a bag of Swedish-style licorice, and she offered me a piece—with some trepidation.
“I love licorice!” I said.
“This is salted licorice,” she replied. “Americans aren’t usually fans.”
It wasn’t like any licorice I’d ever sampled before—more intensely flavored. An acquired taste, I suppose. But I liked it enough to try it again at her house a few months later.
Last week after a Swedish lunch together, my friends wanted to walk across the street to visit The Sweden Store before they drove home. I had to rush to meet my daughter at the bus stop, and I was disappointed I couldn’t linger in the store and maybe pick up a bag of salted licorice if they had it in stock.
That’s when it occurred to me that I liked the Altoids so much because they reminded me of Swedish licorice.
This afternoon I looked up The Sweden Store in the phone book, gave them a call, and sure enough—they have exactly what I need.
I’ll happily pick some up tomorrow.