Emma Lundmark shows off some tunnbröd dough.

My first encounter with Tunnbröd (thin bread) came in the form of local street grub I’d quickly grabbed after a day at Vasamuseet a couple years ago. The concoction I’d ordered – soft thin bread rolled up funnel-style and filled with sausage, mashed potatoes, onions, mustard, lettuce, and other dubious condiments – was called Tunnbrödsrulle.

Integral to most meals in Sweden, I would later be introduced to varied and crispier versions of Tunnbröd. Thin bread topped with cheap caviar squeezed from a tube and cucumber slices adorn tables across the country. Crispy thin bread heavily smeared with butter regularly accompanies lunch and dinner. Crushed tunnbröd is eaten with sour milk and lingonberry jam cereal-style in a fashion called bryta (also known to Northerners as smolanedi).

Tunnbröd also plays supporting role to Surströmming (fermented Baltic herring), of which I have firsthand experience sampling.

While spending last summer up in Norrbotten (Northern Sweden), we’d convened at the local neighborhood joint for lunch – a small convenience store/pub/restaurant/bakery – all rolled into one in the small village of Klöverträsk; population – 260.

The only item on the menu that day – a pasta and meatballs with brown sauce dish – also happened to be the lunch special.

Young Emma Lundmark serves us our meal.

“You know Jonny makes his own tunnbröd,” someone chimes in just as we dig into baskets of freshly baked crispy bread.

I immediately set up a date with Emma, Jonny’s oldest daughter. She agreed to take me the very next morning behind the scenes of their bakery – Klöverträsk Bröd – an icon in the village for the last 40+ years.

1. Located in the village of Klöverträsk, The Lundmarks run their small one room bakery right next to the equally small convenience store where they sell groceries and toiletries. Their attached pub/restaurant is just a door away behind the store.

2. “It’s fun to work with your hands,” shares Emma as she kneads and prepares dough early in the morning. Each batch makes roughly 40 kg of tunnbröd so two batches are made per day.

3.A grooved roll pin is used to aerate the dough and to give it its texture look.

4.The bread is passed multiple times through a “kavelmaskin” – a machine that is used to stretch out the dough into a near paper-thin layer.

5.Once the dough has been stretched to the right weight, it is sliced into manageable pieces for baking.

6.The sliced up dough is then flash-baked for 20-25 seconds.

7.The baked crispy bread is cut into stackable pieces while still hot, and piled into boxes to continue their cooling down process.

8.Each box is weighed to make sure they meet the 400g (800g for larger boxes).

9.Simple clear cellophane tape is applied to seal the boxes up.

10.The freshly baked tunnbröd is ready to be delivered to local stores, including the Lundmarks’ own convenience store.

11.Another Lundmark specialty is cardamom-infused biscuits called Bettans Biscuits.

12.It takes about 20 minutes to mix and prepare each batch of dough.

13.The dough is left to rise for 45 minutes before baking for another 45 minutes.

14.Once the bread cools down and edges are cut away, they’re left to dry out for about two days. After that, they are put in a cutting machine to continue making smaller pieces which are baked one more time for close to two hours to give them their signature crispy taste.

15.Once ready, the biscuits are bagged and ready for sale. The Lundmarks also sell breadcrumbs accumulated from the baking process so that these cardamom-flavored breadcrumbs can be used for other baking purposes.

16.The finished products end up in the backyard pub and restaurant for guests.

17.The boxes and bags of thin bread and biscuits also end up in their convenience storefront for local customers to buy. The store is literally a door away that leads from the bakery.

18.Twice a month, the Lundmarks deliver tunnbröd and cardamom biscuits to roughly 60 local stores and supermarkets all across Swedish Lapland and in neighboring towns of Luleå, Piteå, Älvsbyn, and Boden.

More on Klöverträsk Bröd (Bread)

For more than 40 years, Klöverträsk Bröd has remained a family-owned business, providing fat free, sugar free, and milk free tunnbröd. The bakery was purchased roughly five years ago by The Lundmarks – Jonny, Monica, and their five children – from previous owner Robert Öhman who, after 18 years of running the business, was ready to move on.

In addition to Klöverträsk Bröd, the Lundmarks also purchased a 20+ year old recipe for old fashioned cardamom biscuits called Bettans Biscuits, which originated from a little village called Niemisel.

Since both purchases, Jonny has expanded the bakery’s offerings to include the following four products:

• Bettans Biscuits
• Bettans Breadcrumbs which can be used for baking
• Smaller 400g boxes of Klöverträsk tunnbröd
• 650g boxes of regular breadcrumbs

22 year old Emma continues to tend the bakery, shop, and restaurant alongside her parents.

Contact Information

Klöverträsk Bröd
Klöverträsk bya väg 21
975 91 Luleå
Phone: (46) 0920-85200
E-mail: jmltrading@telia.com

You’ve probably heard the word thrown around to represent a large mix of various elements - a smörgåsbord of features, a smörgåsbord of activities, etc.

Well, this Swedish word traditionally refers to a buffet-style spread of small dishes – mostly cold with a few hot plates.

From mounds of herring and salmon to various cold salads and meats, some of the usual suspects have been identified below.

Mustard herring, tomato herring, pickled herring…you name it. As long as condiments exist, you’ll find some form of herring doused or drenched in them.





If the taste of herring overpowers you, dig into alternative plates of smoked, poached, baked, or pinwheeled salmon that’s always available.





Move over leafy greens, cold salads such as red beet salad, pea salad, and mushroom salad regularly make appearances.





Various pâtés, terrines, and cold meats such as dried ham and smoked lamb provide a welcome change from seafood.





For the die-hard carnivores amongst us, roast beef, pork, and sometimes reindeer meat are offered to appease meat eaters.





A smörgåsbord without shellfish? Heresy!





Ketchup? Fries? Not here. Side dishes include yellow almond potatoes, roe, and black caviar…the cheap kind.





And of course, if it’s got a crust and is filled with either almond paste, marzipan, or vanilla sauce, you’ll find it at the dessert table.


Photos by Lola Akinmade.

Feature photo and photo above by Lola Akinmade.

Jolting out of bed at the sound of my name, I begrudgingly rush over to my parents’ room for daily morning prayers. Names are yelled out in chronological order and being the oldest means I always lose a few seconds of sleep.

I love watching the cap-full of Dettol – a common antiseptic – expand into an amoebic white cloud as I pour it into a bucket of tepid water. Its residual smell lets my mom know we’ve properly showered. I slip into my little blue and white striped uniform with blue flaps for collars. We can guess which schools neighborhood kids attend based on colors, stripes, or checkered pattern of their uniforms.

The smell of curry, thyme, and white pepper wafting from the kitchen means our house help is almost done with the classic Nigerian omelette. Tomatoes, onions, and a pinch of salt rounds it out. It is usually eaten with fresh bread bought the same morning from a kiosk in front of the house, boiled plantains, or boiled white yams.

Today, we scarf it down quickly with boiled yams before piling into the family Peugeot, which we pronounce “Pee-Joe”. “Good morning Mr. Olufodun!” We greet the driver, and soon enough, we hurtle down to join the congested sea of cars.

Photo by Lola Akinmade.

“You get Punch? How about Guardian?” my mom yells out in pidgin English to a newspaper vendor racing alongside the car in traffic. Balancing a stack of newspapers on his head with a few stuffed underneath both armpits, he skillfully pulls out a Punch and exchanges it for a 10 Naira note. Twenty years later and now 100 Naira a pop, this daily ritual of buying Punch Newspaper remains.

Our morning commute takes us to Ikoyi, a suburb off one of the many islands that collectively make up Lagos. We spill out and run through the gates of our primary school, Federal Home Science, just in time for morning assembly as students gather in the dusty yard to sing the national anthem, Arise, O Compatriots.

Once primary school lets out early afternoon, we shuttle off to lessons on Lagos Mainland. After school activities involve more studying. No little football (soccer) leagues or cricket teams. If we want to play football, we form a ragtag team of neighborhood kids in someone’s yard.

We fill up on geography and social studies, and wonder if kids our age in America and the rest of the world have to go to lesson too. During our snack break, we run across the street like Frogger characters to a wooden kiosk to buy meat pies and scotch eggs – boiled eggs coated in minced sausage mix and fried.

Photo by Lola Akinmade.

The clock strikes 5 and it’s time to go home.

Navigating late rush hour traffic, we arrive to a hefty lunch-dinner combo cooked by mom who’d gone out earlier in the day, perusing open air markets to get fresh meat and green leafy vegetables.

“NEEEPPPAAA!*” we yell in unison just as the daily power outage occurs in the middle of our favorite show. Waiting patiently in the dark until the generator grunts, we resume our show without interruption. NEPA affects the TV stations as well.

I fall asleep on my knees as we convene in our parents’ room for nightly prayers before bed. Exhausted yet knowing fully well that the next day will bring more of the same.

*NEPA – Known at the time as Nigeria’s National Electric Power Authority.