Follow the yellow floor arrows...
A journey through the magical land of IKEA
It’s been nearly 20 years since IKEA, the affordable yet stylish Scandinavian brand, came to Atlanta. And while I’ve ordered scads of things from there over the years, I’ve only ever been to the store once in my whole life. So long ago, in fact, that I barely remember it. I bet it was shortly after they opened.
But last week, I returned to this mecca of affordable design, DIY creativity, functional furniture, home organization, and global inspiration. It was every bit as much fun and inspirational as I wanted it to be, but somehow I think it’s grown quite a bit bigger than it was in my memory!
Getting to the end of the IKEA is like Dorothy trying to get to Oz – you journey through a maze filled with bright colors, enchanting landscapes (or roomscapes), and the promise of dreams fulfilled. There are some disappointments along the way, and more than a few times you’ll wonder if you’ll ever get out, but when the end is in sight, all is forgotten, and getting home with your treasures is all that matters.
I feel weirdly drawn to IKEA. Maybe it’s because my paternal Grandmother McDonald (Granny Mac to us kids) was a Swede. She spoke Swedish at home as a girl, and I have tons of letters written in Swedish to various family members. But, alas, as things go, no language or Swedish traditions made it down to my generation, or my daddy’s.
Instead of gravlax, pickled herring, lingonberries, and aquavit, we had gumbo, West Indies salad, fruit cocktail, and Budweiser, all of which were undoubtedly a culture of a sort – just not Swedish culture. And we certainly never had Swedish meatballs, which is why our first stop on the IKEA journey was in the cafeteria for the renowned orb.
Now I am under no illusions that a ball of cafeteria-grade gray matter in gravy is anything like the original, much like a Chef Boyardee meatball is not like what you’d get in Bella Roma. Still, it was good for what it was, and I could have eaten about twice as many as they gave me, especially when you run them through the mashed potatoes.
Ricky got the veggie balls with romesco sauce and cauli rice because it was gluten free, and my brother had a salad with salmon added. Both reported that their dishes were as tasty as cafeteria food can be.
For me, the real star of the show was the Daim Cake. Also gluten-free, this cake features layers of almond, chocolate, and caramel, and it is hands-down the best dessert I’ve pulled off a chilled shelf in a long time. There was creaminess and crunchiness, sweetness but not too much, and the clean-cut sliver was just the right “sweet tooth capper,” as our late friend Trey would say.
It was a good damn thing we ate before we started our trek through an enchanted forest of color, pattern, baskets, shelves, notebooks, tea sets, mock apartments, a beauty parlor you can set up in your house, whisks, plates, and pillow cases. The store's layout and variety of products made it feel like we were wandering through a magical forest of home decor and furnishings. At one point, I swear I heard faint singing and felt snow. Maybe I was just overcome by a loud poppy print chintz. I’ll never know for sure.
We were worn out when we reached the end of the rainbow array of dishes and dragged ourselves through the warehouse. But we had discovered the truths we sought (yes, the Kallax shelves are sturdy enough to hold records), bought a ton of doodads and thingamabobs (pryl and grej in svenska), and had a day’s worth of fun living in the magical world of IKEA.
And to top it off, no one pelted us with apples, and no one had a meltdown — a sure sign of a successful day in my book.
Vi ses senare!
(That’s Swedish for “See you later.”)
And no flying monkeys!
Enjoyed this! I still have never been. Loved your Budweiser reference.