Jennifer Jeffrey, Writer & Editor

Chef Richard Näslin of the ICEHOTEL in Sweden

Richard Näslin

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you know that I was at the ICEHOTEL in Jukkasjärvi, Sweden last year, where I met with Chef Richard Näslin. I've been intending to write about our chat ever since, but somehow I let a whole year slip away without doing it.  You might also remember when I wrote that Richard reminded me of Matt Damon, and I'm finally posting the pictures to prove it.

See? Wasn't it worth the wait?

While I was twiddling my thumbs, the rooms that I walked through and slept in last year softened into slush and melted away; the ground was leveled, and blocks of ice from the Torne River were dragged to the site. A different group of artists arrived with hammers and picks and saws and created a new temple of ice filled with freshly imagined shapes and three-dimensional structures.

Daydreaming about what it might look like this year, I checked in with Richard via email to make sure that he was still at the ICEHOTEL and doing well - he is, and fabulously happy, it seems. The restaurant is packed, he reports, and they've built out a brand new kitchen and dining room. 

But now - at long last - let's rewind to 2007. The night before I met with Richard, I had dinner at his restaurant, located across the street from the temporary ICEHOTEL. The restaurant is a permanent structure, warm and cozy, with a huge entryway full of parkas, coats and boots that people shrug off when they come inside from the -30°C air.

While the snow fell outside the dining room that night, we began the meal with a piece of arctic char alongside a quenelle of smoked arctic char ice cream in a pool of beetroot sorbet. The ice cream was creamy and smoky, enlivened by the salt-flecked fish and perfectly balanced by the tangy-sweet beetroot. Next came a terrine of foie gras with smoked reindeer, accented with gently dried grapes and drizzled with a honey-grape juice reduction. Served with lightly toasted brioche, it was a knockout.

But I might have been most in love with the reindeer joint that arrived on a simple white plate with a single morel mushroom to one side and a judicious drizzle of wild game gravy. An ice glass filled with bright red cranberries cooked in port wine was delivered alongside. Tender and rich and wild, the dish was like nothing I had ever eaten.

I was thrilled to find that the menu didn't have a single piece of lettuce on it; not one watery tomato; nary an option for pasta with cheese. I loved that it was so distinctly, vividly different, and very much at place in its surroundings.

Needless to say, by the time I met Richard the next day, I was over-the-moon impressed.

Reasons to Go to Acapulco

On the first day you arrive in Acapulco, you might temporarily forget why you came. As the car whisks past the airport, you see palm trees, but you also see Wal*Mart and Costco and KFC and Starbucks, and you think: oh, no.

You are, however, thrilled by the sun and sand and guacamole and salsa fresca. You’re in your own private villa, after all; there is a man who brings you icy drinks while you splash in the pool, and a woman who cooks breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The moist, humid air caresses your skin; you begin to relax.

The second day, you are delighted by tacos al pastor, assembled on the lightest tortillas you’ve ever tasted, by the pile of tender roasted meat, the crunch of white onions, and the sprinkle of feather-light cilantro, topped with a hint of pineapple-y sweetness.

On the third day, you happily tear into a pan-fried fish dressed with a bare squeeze of lime juice.