Getting Hygge-y With It
Have the Scandinavians actually figured it all out? Plus, a fancy (seeming) appetizer, thoughts on recent Bourdain mania, and more...
“It’s amazing” my partner commented shortly after we both bit into our respective potato pesto and cheese buns on a sunny morning in Copenhagen a couple weeks ago. “The bun?” I replied, not realizing I had cut him off (it’s a bad habit). “Yea, but no” he continued, “I mean the fact that I’m eating this and somehow don’t feel sick.” It was the kind of thing that at home we would decline for being too decadent for a run of the mill breakfast. At that moment, however, with the sun on my face as we sat on our tiny chairs outside the bakery, our stomachs growling from the bike ride we took here as we watched a couple of very blond toddlers across the street giggle as their father passed them their pastries, I felt full, but not heavy, as though somehow I had landed in a place where something like a pesto potato cheese bun was the healthy choice.
Scandinavia is supposedly the happiest place in the world, or at least that’s the statistic people like to rattle back at you when the region comes up. It’s one of those statistics that gets repeated without context, but no one knows where it actually comes from or if it’s true, like the 50% divorce rate in the US or the fact that most Americans can’t afford a $200 emergency. But if Instagram, self-help books, and the media in general are any indication, we have accepted Scandinavian happiness as an indisputable fact. Sitting there enjoying my breakfast, it was hard to figure out if I was just on vacation mode, or if there was actually something to this oft touted idea of the Scandi Utopia.
The Pursuit of Happiness
If the media is to be believed, the Scandinavians are all healthier, more productive, more progressive, and better looking (Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s pickled fish, saunas, and hygge!). US Americans, in our current constant obsession with personal optimization, look to Nordic culture to see if we too can achieve the Scandinavian perfection. We hone in our focus on outcomes of their happiness. When talking about the value of the four day workweek (a reality in Iceland and an “overwhelming success,” according to Forbes), for example, the key talking point people get from it is that the workers were productive or even more productive or that it prevented “burnout” (a metric we care about only relative to how it affects productivity). Articles about how pedestrian-friendly Swedish cities are often make reference to the millions in savings in healthcare costs they have because people can walk or bike everywhere.
By focusing on outcomes, we make the mistake of treating the things that make people happy as a means to an end, when happiness should be an end in itself. Why isn’t the obvious fact that a 4-day work week sucks less than a 5-day work week an argument that’s taken seriously when advocating for such a policy? Do we need a better argument for pedestrian friendly cities than the fact that it’s really pleasant to be able to go outside and move your body without worrying about getting flattened by two tons of metal hurtling towards you?
At risk of bursting people’s bubble, there are plenty of people in Denmark with bodies outside the mainstream ideal, tons of Swedes with bad skin and not particularly fashionable clothes. If the super depressing logo of Joe and the Juice (a Danish company, I learned) is any indication, work there is still a drag. And yes, I did see some people without homes digging through trash, though it was a much rarer sight than in my own neighborhood back home. If we take the American outcome-based approach to how we design society, these would all be seen as signs of failure. But that is because we don’t actually value happiness as a goal in and of itself. We don’t need to commission a focus group to figure out that where we prioritize human happiness, the good outcomes naturally follow. If we say people should have fresh food because that’s what tastes good, it’s not hard to see how those same people also end up healthier.
It’s Everything, and it’s Nothing
In our efforts to uncover the secrets to happiness, health, wellbeing, what name you, we search for the one special thing, as though an entire culture can be distilled into a single element that alone holds the key to the good life. The key to Scandinavian happiness, they will say, it’s a proper Nordic diet of fermented foods and fatty fish! Or government-sponsored social welfare programs! Or cozy socks and candles!
Over various points of our trip, I noticed something you would never see in the US - Children swimming butt naked in a public fountain, frolicking around looking like chubby little cherubs. They were clearly happy, and their mothers did not appear that stressed about the germs in the fountain or that it might be a scouting location for Wayfair cabinet enthusiasts. It made me think of the particularly noxious genre of literature where an American expat oversimplifies another culture and cherry picks data in order to capitalize on anxious mothers1 (“From Huggies to Hygge” I imagine the Scandinavian version to be called, “Why Scandinavian Children are happier, more independent, and don’t complain about their mothers in therapy”). We see other societies that have it good, maybe even better, and start searching for the secret ingredient rather than the recipe for the secret sauce - the combination of elements that, together and in the correct proportions, contribute to something greater than the sum of its parts.
To ignore all the context surrounding one isolated piece of Aha! data is to miss all the important societal, cultural, and social factors that create an entire ecosystem of happiness. It’s saying, “studies show biking is good for endorphins” and responding with windowless spin studios that charge $30 for the privilege of being yelled at by a sinewy woman in a swishy ponytail on a bike to literally nowhere. We isolate and commercialize the things are supposedly the keys to happiness, instead of doing the hard work of structuring our spaces around the idea that people will be happier if they are able to move their bodies in safe spaces, if the cities they live in doesn’t require oppressive distances to get somewhere, if they are not bombarded with distracting ads everywhere they turn, and in the off chance they get in an accident, they don’t have to worry about medical bankruptcy. You cannot point to one specific element in Scandinavian culture and say that is the definitive answer. They are whole societies that have been structured around the idea that human wellbeing is the goal, and with that comes thousands of seemingly insignificant decisions that all work towards that goal.
Funnily enough, the one place I can think of back home that comes close to getting this right is the other supposedly happiest place on earth - Disney World. I should lay my cards on the table now and say that I’m not a Disney fan at all, and up until recently did not really understand its appeal for adults. My cynicism aside, Disney, and its surrounding infrastructure, is one of the few spaces in the US designed around human happiness. It’s interesting to think of the almost invisible details meticulously engineered to create a sense of happiness - no cars whirling around, the lush and colorful landscaping, wide sidewalks and trams designed so that anyone with a walker, stroller, or wheelchair can enjoy time outside with their family. This isn’t a coincidence - it was Danish park Tivoli that originally inspired Walt Disney to create his theme parks. Maybe people love Disney because it is manufactured to create a fantasy world that, for the (starting) price of $400, a family of four can experience a day where they inhabit a world dedicated to their happiness. Maybe the Scandinavians are the happiest because they live in a society where they don’t need to go on vacation to experience a world built for actual humans.
Wants vs. Needs
When we talk about the things we should be doing, whether it’s in our personal lives or in our politics, we talk about wants vs. needs, always with the antagonistic “vs.” separating the two as if satisfying one can only come at the exclusion of the other. We have developed a rather narrow idea of “need” - it must be essential for survival, and as time goes on our definition of survival gets whittled down to the point that it means “still breathing.”
The first time I had visited Copenhagen, my friends and I took a walking tour of the city led by a guide who looked like a viking version of Jesus. In the tour he talked about the Danish concept of hygge, which roughly translates to a feeling of coziness and comfort (In true American fashion, we have taken this concept and commercialized it to the point that here it means little beyond “chunky sweater”). At the point of the tour when he talked about Danish rescue of its Jewish population during WWII, he made a rather startling assessment - the Danes felt the situation for the Jews was not very hygge and decided to take action. It felt comically oversimplified to describe genocide as simply “not feeling hygge” and I think my friends, one of whom had family that personally suffered in Holocaust, and I probably would have been offended had he not seemed so sincere and solemn in this declaration. It’s an awkward moment that years later we still shake our heads and chuckle incredulously about.
I think about that moment a lot and what he was trying to convey. In retrospect, I think maybe I missed a more profound point. What is coziness but the contentment you feel when you are safe and warm while the world outside is cold and dark? Or the relief of having your belly pleasantly full when you were previously hungry? It’s the sensation of a warm embrace. When humans are in the depths of despair and our very survival seems to be hanging on by a thread, our instinct is to literally hold each other, tightly.
Survival is not merely a question of continuing to be alive. When you are down, you want to know that your neighbor wants to take care of you, embrace you, see you succeed, instead of scrutinizing how you do everything to see if you really need that help. Are those things not also necessary for survival? The idea that the Danes would look at some of the worst human suffering in history and think “these people deserve a life worth living” instead of more simply “we need to keep these people alive” seemed childish when our tour guide first said it to me. Now it seems almost radical. Maybe happiness comes from living in a society is expected not to merely keep you alive (as cheaply as possible!) but to actively support your efforts in having a rich and fulfilling life. It is simple, but it is not easy.
That morning at the bakery, I was happy. I was happy because I picked the thing I wanted to eat that morning for no reason except that I wanted it. I was happy not just because the bun was delicious, but because I was enjoying it outside, sitting with a person I love and a fresh cup of coffee, with the sun in face and listening to the laughter of the children across the street. I was happy because I had food to eat when I was hungry and a safe and pleasant place to sit and rest when my legs were tired, and a tree to sit under to give me some shade. None of these things are luxuries. Maybe we would all be happier if stopped treating them as such.
Recipe: Date Asiago Gougères
I usually make these ahead of time and freeze them so they are ready to just pop in the oven before guests arrive. The sweetness of the dates is balanced out by the sharpness of the asiago and the salty bite of the prosciutto. They deceptively easy, but people will find them impressive, mostly because they have a French name.
Makes 15
4 ounces water
2 ounces butter (half a stick)
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 ounces flour
2 eggs
4 ounces shredded asiago cheese
3 tablespoons chopped dates
2-3 slices of prosciutto (optional)
Heat the oven to 425 degrees and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Place the butter, water, and salt in a medium saucepan and bring to a simmer. Reduce heat to medium and, working quickly, add the flour and stir vigorously until the flour is completely incorporated, a smooth dough forms and a slight film is starting to develop of the sides of the pan. Remove from heat and let cool for 2-3 minutes.
Add an egg and stir vigorously. At first the dough will appear to not take the egg but with a little patience you will find that the dough gives up and you will be able to incorporate the egg into the smooth dough. Repeat with the second egg.
Fold the cheese and the dates into the dough, reserving about two tablespoons of the cheese. Traditional gougeres are usually piped out into little balls, but I find it less messy to just scoop up the dough by the tablespoon and spoon them onto the baking sheet like a drop cookie. Sprinkle the remaining cheese and shreds of the prosciutto ontop and bake for about 25 minutes, reducing the temperature to 350 degrees after the first 10 minutes and rotating the baking sheet halfway. When the gougeres are finished, they will have a golden-brown exterior and will sound hallow when you tap them with your finger. Cool for 5 minutes and serve. Alternatively, you may bake these a little before they begin to brown and freeze them for 3 months. To reheat, just put them in a 350 degree oven and bake for about 10-15 minutes.
Hits and Misses
Hit: I loved this essay by Irina Dumitrescu about growing up a picky eater. It serves as a nice contrast to this one by Juan Francisco Moretti about the joys of eating chinchulines.
Miss: All the Bourdain stuff. Like many who enjoy food, travel and writing, I’ve long been a fan. To me his perspective created something new in travel writing; his work was personal, yet not self-centered, exploratory rather than exploitative, and keenly self-aware. More than anything, I loved that he brought the world home to people who will never have the luxury of seeing it themselves. At first I had been excited for both the documentary Roadrunner and the new book On Travel. I ultimately decided not to watch Roadrunner after I learned how much of it seems to be focused on his death. To me, it seems rather grotesque to reduce a man that sparked so much imagination in people to gross speculation around the circumstances of his death. When I checked out the book On Travel from my library, I returned it within the hour, disappointed to see that it read more like a book report than a collection of essays from his perspective. It’s mostly just a collection of quotes from his tv show followed by some bland writing by the actual author. It honestly felt like a cash grab.
Hit: This coconut lime and blueberry pie was a total hit, as was the pie crust I used from the delight Piece of Cake Newsletter by Bill Clark. If you’re not up for a pie, the filling keeps its structure well and would be excellent for a cobbler.
Miss: This corn pasta promised me so much, but reminded my too much of college style “dump everything in fridge into pasta” meals.
Hit: There are times I question my choice in a legal career. Then I read stories like this and I remember lawyers are doing God’s work, literally.
As always, thanks for indulging me. Until next month…
For the record, I’m not too proud to admit that I too would probably buy all these books if I had a kid.