Plätthuset (the Pancake House)

We arrived at our summer cottage late yesterday. Much later than expected. Halfway through, on open water, one of the rudders on the boat broke and instead of at regular speed, we proceeded at six knots only. Luckily enough, the sun was shining and the mirror calm sea reflected the sun rays beautifully. And we got to enjoy this amazing scenery for an extra hour or two.

Finally ashore, little by little, my 4-year-old realized that she’d been here before. Enthusiastically she pointed out everything familiar to her. And when she finally recognized my parents Falu red wooden house with white accents, she happily burst out “Det där är Plätthuset!” (“That’s the Pancake House!”). We sleep in a separate, grey house and my girls usually get up before we do and join my parents for breakfast – which consists of small pancakes (plättar in Swedish). From now on, my parents house will be referred to as Plätthuset.

We didn’t do much the first evening. Just the inevitable: preparing dinner, heating water and – most importantly – picking strawberries. Juicy, crimson, 100 % organic strawberries with the most intense taste of Finnish summer.

Today, my girls had plättar with strawberries for breakfast in Plätthuset.


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