Three Generations, Seven Types of Cake
There are many ways in which my grandmother, mother and I are different from each other. Born in different eras, with different experiences and aspirations, different personalities, and different societal blueprints for what it means to be a woman. My Mormor, born in the early 1930s, a nurse whose husband she met in hospital, stay-at-home mum of two children in the 60s, and incredibly pragmatic, independent and practical. My Mum, born at the dawn of the 60s, a self professed Swedish anglophile, a linguist and academic, cross-word and animal lover. And then me, born as the 80s came to a close. It’s hard to write the description of yourself!
There is something that binds us all together. A book. But more than a book. A way of living, loving, and sharing in the tradition of baking that has been central to Sweden for many years. Sju sorters kakor. (Roughly translates as ‘seven types of cake’, which refers to the categories or chapters the book is split into.)
Let me explain.
The Origins of Sju Sorters Kakor
It’s 1945, and Swedes have been living with rationing for the duration of World War Two. When a cake competition is announced, 8,000 recipes from around the country are submitted. The 500 winning recipes become the first edition of this now classic baking book.
To understand the significance of the ‘seven’ in the title, we need to go back a little bit further. You may have heard of the Swedish tradition of ‘fika’ — a coffee break with a piece of cake. ‘Kafferep’ is next level ‘fika’ — a social meeting, sometimes associated with occasions like a wedding or funeral, where you connect with people and eat no less than seven different types of cake. (In the late 1800s, it was also one of the few occasions where women could meet without men or children.)
At the beginning of the 1900s, seven was thought to be the perfect number of types of cake to serve at a kafferep. Less, and the hostess was stingy. More, and she was a show-off!
At a kafferep, you eat the seven types of cake in a specific order, which is informed by the baked goods’ texture, sweetness and size. The order, which is a custom known since the late 1800s, is as follows:
- Wheat bread
- Light sponge cake
- Dark sponge cake
- Light, dry biscuit
- Dark, dry biscuit
- Small cake or biscuit with filling
- Pastry, often containing almond paste
After that, cake. (Optional, for those who still have room!)
Kafferep really hit the big time in the 1930s, and there are incredibly beautiful, original bakeries like Vetekatten (founded 1928) that still live on in Stockholm today.
Cool Facts about Sju Sorters Kakor (the book)
So that brings us up to speed on how this glorious book came into being in 1945, in a culmination of a moment in history, tradition and repressed baking urges. The book has gone on to be a quintessential part of Swedish life, and a shared link between my Mormor, Mum and I. Here’s the deal:
- It’s Sweden’s most purchased book.
- 3.8 million copies of the book had been sold as of September 2017
- To date, there have been six editions of the book: 1945, 1965, 1975, 1985, 2015 and 2017.
- The versions reflect changing tastes and understanding of nutrition. For example, the recipes from the1965 version reflect the public health agency’s recommendations around less fat and sugar in food. The 2017 edition includes gluten-free recipes.
- In 1965, they announced a new competition, and 16,000 recipes were submitted. It culminated with 21 bakers doing their worst at a test kitchen in Stockholm in the grand final. (How’s that for a bake off!)
- Many of the recipes remain consistent across editions, and the prize-winning ones are marked with a star and prize date.
- An English edition of the book has been published in later years.
What it means to me
This book is a link between the generations for me. It’s a reminder of how baking ties us together, across three generations of women. Baking has been a central part of my life in one way or another since I can remember. I love that this book threads the needle of time, and that it keeps reinventing itself across the decades.
Mormor still bakes to this day, and I’m always amazed when she breaks out the tin of homemade wafers, or the box of finska pinnar, a shortbread like biscuit that’s my Mum’s fave. Who makes their wafers from scratch and while still burning hot, rolls them into wafer cigars or drapers them over a tea cup to make a wafer basket?! Mormor, that’s who! On a trip to Stockholm, I asked her to teach me, and we had lots of fun. It’s so amazing to see the processes that are the origins of things we take for granted as a shop-bought, processed item like wafers. Other favourites include Oscar den Andre’s cake, a thin, crispy almond base with a buttery pastry cream between the layers, named for a king who was a fan.
My Mum is an incredible baker. Anytime she put on her apron, a light green fabric with a strawberry print (that she sewed herself in school no less!), I knew something good was about to happen. I feel so fondly about those memories that I asked for that apron when I moved out, and still have it. She would whip up a Fyriskaka out of nowhere, a beautiful apple cake with meticulous decoration. My mum had a marble baking slab for doing complex things that needed a cold surface, and attempted the most advanced and involved things like puff pastry. It still astounds me when I think about it!
I symbiotically absorbed baking from these incredible women, who bake with ease and love and good humour and just because. I remember being a kid and learning simple mixes like chocolate ‘kladdkaka’ — mess cake, as I would loosely translate it to get the essence of the meaning across. I loved making a sponge mix, one half vanilla and one half cocoa, then marbling the mixtures to produce ‘tigerkaka’ — tiger cake. My favourite section of the book is the ‘baking without an oven’ section at the back, with treats like ‘chokladbollar’ (chocolate oat balls) and ‘damsugare’, designed to use up the cake crumbs from all of your other cake making, wrapped in bright green marzipan and dipped in chocolate. (My brother and his girlfriend are pros at making these, and I gifted her the English version of the book when it came out!)
For the love of baking
Really, there is so much love in all of it, and I feel so connected to my family through this book and what it represents. I love the gesture of baking, of making something sweet and delicious to share. Baking is my stress relief. I dance when I’m angry, I bake when I’m stressed!
I love the rhythm of baking, the precision of it, the total disasters (my attempt at macarons) and the total wins (the rainbow cake I made in 2017, my one goal for the year).
Most of all, I love the idea that seven, seven, is thought to be the exactly appropriate, necessary and lagom number of cake types to serve. Now that’s a lifestyle I can get behind.
