The first time I visited a Valborg bonfire in Sweden, I didn’t really know what to expect. Coming from Italy, where any good fire usually means good food is just a few meters away, I imagined that the smell of burning wood would soon be joined by the scent of sausages sizzling on a grill, or maybe a tray of roasted vegetables smoking deliciously over open flames. Instead, I found myself standing in front of a massive bonfire, surrounded by a sea of happy, singing people... but not a single grill in sight. I even sniffed the air twice, just to be sure. Surely someone was hiding a barbecue behind a tree, right? No luck. Just fire. Just tradition. Just celebration.
For a hungry Italian, it was a confusing moment. Where was the food? Where were the charred bits of meat and melted cheese sandwiches? But soon, I understood that Valborg isn’t about what you eat — it’s about what you feel. It’s about shaking off winter’s long shadow, singing together, standing close while the night is still a little cold, and sharing the first real signs of spring. And yet, old habits die hard. The following year, when I headed to the bonfire again, I made sure to bring a little piece of home cooking with me. A piece of Italy, wrapped in foil, still warm, still comforting. I brought lasagna.
There’s something about lasagna that fits the spirit of Valborg better than I could have imagined. It’s the ultimate comfort food, a dish that’s all about layering patience, warmth, and care into something more than the sum of its parts. One bite of homemade food and you feel instantly grounded — instantly at home, no matter how far from your original roots you might be. In many ways, Swedes already understand this deep magic. Their love for slow-simmered stews, baked pies made from locally sourced Swedish ingredients, and strong coffee shared with friends shows that Swedish kitchens and Italian kitchens speak the same secret language: food is love.
As spring stretches her arms over Sweden, she brings with her asparagus from Gotland, fresh wild ramsons scenting the forests, and tiny green peas popping up in local markets. It’s the perfect excuse to make a seasonal, green vegetarian food version of lasagna — a light, fragrant dish layered with young spinach, sweet peas, and delicate spears of asparagus. Swap out heavy sauces for a creamy ramsons pesto, drizzle a little cold-pressed Swedish rapeseed oil, and suddenly you have a dish that sings of both Swedish spring and Italian sunshine. Can you imagine the rich aroma of freshly baked and warm, homemade lasagna filled with parmigiano Reggiano, asparagus and ramsons?
Even for those who prefer vegan food or need gluten free options, lasagna adapts beautifully. A careful layering of roasted root vegetables, creamy nut-based sauces, and pasta sheets made from alternative flours can create a dish every bit as satisfying, and maybe even more colorful.
Of course, if you’re running late to the bonfire and don’t have time to cook, takeaway Stockholm life comes to the rescue. Imagine picking up a tray of proper homemade food, still steaming, tucked neatly into your picnic basket. A classic meat lasagna? A bright vegetarian spring version? A rich gluten free root vegetable lasagna layered with smoky cheeses and herbs? They’re all perfect companions for a chilly April evening by the fire, even if nobody remembered to bring the marshmallows.
What kind of lasagna would you prepare to celebrate Valborg?
As I stood there that second year, sharing slices of lasagna among friends wrapped in fleece blankets, watching sparks fly high into the sky, I realized something important. Sweden’s food culture is always evolving — always curious, always open. Just like tacos found a Friday home here, just like falafel joined the everyday lunch list, dishes like lasagna sneak into the heart of Swedish traditions not by replacing what’s already loved, but by layering themselves gently onto the old ways. A new layer, a new flavor, a new memory.
Food traditions are never static. They’re like lasagna itself: made up of many layers, each one holding the next in place, each one adding something essential. Maybe next time you head to a bonfire on Valborg, you’ll slip a foil-wrapped slice of comfort food into your backpack, nestle it between your thermos of coffee and your extra scarf. Maybe you’ll catch the scent of the bonfire smoke and smile, knowing you have a little extra warmth waiting for you.
Do you like bonfires as much as we do? Would you pack lasagna for your next Valborg celebration?
In the end, Valborg isn’t about fancy menus or complicated traditions. It’s about standing together against the last cold breaths of winter, welcoming the light, and savoring the small, beautiful things that remind us life is good. What better way to do that than with a dish built with love, layer by layer, from the best locally sourced and Italian ingredients? Whether you lean toward a slow-cooked meat ragù, a spring-green vegetarian food celebration, or a bold, colorful vegan food experiment, one thing remains true: lasagna isn’t just a dish. It’s a feeling.
And on a night when the world tilts just a little closer to the sun, it’s exactly the feeling you want to share.
