Thank the Lord above that my brother and his lovely Hungarian, Sweden-raised wife have, for the past three years, created a real Swedish smorgesbord at my mom's house- a buffet of Nordic goodies created to delight every cell in my food-loving-pleasure-seeking body.

It must be my Swedish blood that has me eating to pain. Going back for just a little more pickled herring... just one more slice of raisin bread with liver paté... just a few more chunks of cheese and perhaps some gravlox with dill, cold boiled potatoes and tangy sour cream.

Why can't every day be smorgesbord day?