World-class wine is being made in a corner of Sweden. Yes, Sweden A wine from Skane, the “Nordic Tuscany”, beat all comers in a blind tasting Aug 20th 2026 AT THE NOBEL PRIZE banquet in Stockholm in December, not all the winners were seated at the table. A victor of a different kind could be found in the diners’ wine glasses. In 2024 a blind tasting had pitted a dozen of Europe’s finest wines against a dozen wines from Sweden. An international panel of 18 independent experts declared Immelen, a white wine from Kullabergs, a winery in the Skane region of southern Sweden, the overall winner, above famous whites from France, Italy and Spain. That made Immelen the obvious choice for the Nobel banquet. It was a coming-out party for Swedish wine.
Sweden is “a young wine country”, says Victor Dahl, chief executive of Kullabergs. EU approval for winemaking in Sweden and Denmark, required for commercial production, was granted only in 1999. There are now about 50 commercial wineries in Sweden. Sales are still tiny—just a drop in the barrel by global standards—but growing quickly. At the Nobel banquet, Mr Dahl moonlighted as a waiter so he could hear what the diners thought. Such was their level of interest that he was soon unmasked and invited to introduce the wine. “They had so many questions,” he recalls. And no wonder. That wine can be made in Sweden at all may come as a surprise. Global warming has helped. But “climate change is also bad for us,” says Mr Dahl. Although the climate is warmer overall, it is also unpredictable: since 2018 every growing season has been different. Sweden’s long summer days provide plenty of sunshine to ripen grapes. Indeed, slower ripening may enhance flavour. Immelen is a blend. It is two-thirds Solaris, a descendant of Riesling and Pinot Gris created in 1975, and now Sweden’s most widely planted varietal. The rest is Souvignier Gris and a dash of Muscaris (a cross between Solaris and Muscat). The resulting wine is surprisingly full-bodied, with none of the under-ripeness often found in cool-climate wines. It reminded this correspondent of a high-end Sancerre.
Just as significant as climate change has been the rise of New Nordic cuisine, a gastronomic culture centred on Copenhagen and Malmo. Skane is sometimes referred to as the “Nordic Tuscany” and is being promoted as a tourist destination for foodies. In this part of the world seasonal tasting menus abound, and foragers gather local ingredients for restaurants. Magnus Nilsson—whose previous restaurant, Faviken, earned two Michelin stars— has recently opened a new one in Skane, as has Titti Qvarnstrom, the first Swedish woman to win a star. Being able to serve local wine with local food has obvious appeal. History has also played a part. Sweden’s government ran a campaign from 1957-85 to encourage Swedes to drink wine, rather than spirits, for health reasons. This created a strong wine culture just as European travel was getting cheaper, prompting Swedish wine buffs to engage in wine tourism. But now they can do it at home. The covid-19 pandemic helped, too: Swedish wine critics who were unable to go abroad started to pay more attention to the viticulture scene on their doorstep. Oddly the Systembolaget, the government monopoly on the sale of alcohol through a national network of shops, has also helped. It bans Swedish wineries from selling bottles over the counter, though they can sell wine for consumption on the premises, for example at an on-site bar. To get into the
Systembolaget shops, Swedish winemakers must achieve consistent quality and volume. Systembolaget acts as “an extraordinary quality-control mechanism”, says Joe Fattorini, a British wine guru who now lives in Sweden. Once a winery wins approval, as Kullabergs has, distribution is in effect handled by the government. The contrast with neighbouring Denmark, which lacks such restrictions, is telling. Denmark has fewer hectares of vines than Sweden, but roughly three times as many producers and a wider range of styles. That means more experimentation, but greater variation in quality. Things are changing in Sweden, however. After much lobbying, the law was changed to allow “cellar-door sales” by wineries from June 2025. There are still restrictions—sales are permitted only as part of an educational experience lasting at least 30 minutes—and the rule-change is subject to a six-year trial. Sweden’s wine industry is still in its infancy and lacks the long history of winemaking in other parts of Europe. But you do not need a Nobel prize to see its potential. ■ This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com/culture/2026/08/18/world-class-wine-is-being-made-in-a- corner-of-sweden-yes-sweden
Japan’s music cafés are striking a chord abroad New venues are inspired by a century-old tradition Aug 20th 2026 Space Talk, located in the London district of Clerkenwell, takes music seriously. Before the bar opened in 2024, its owner enlisted an architect, designer and sound engineer to create the perfect acoustic environment. Resembling the deck of a wooden spaceship, the bar is divided into four zones. On a recent evening, your correspondent sipped cocktails while trippy electronic music floated out of the bespoke sound system. In its ethos, Space Talk is one of many spots around the world loosely inspired by Japan’s ongaku kissa (music cafés). These venues are commonly known as listening bars or hi-fi bars. The first ongaku kissa opened in Japan during the 1920s. Visitors drank tea or coffee as music—often classical, tango or swing—played through
gramophones. In the decades after the second world war, cafés devoted to jazz grew popular. Imported records and audio equipment were expensive, and jazz kissa offered a place for enthusiasts to hear the latest album by Miles Davis or John Coltrane. They were places for quiet, reverential listening. Owners would (and still do) display a fussy attention to detail. High-quality speakers are a must; the nerdiness often extends to amps, turntables and styluses. (Gramophones have gone, but vinyl is still very much in vogue.) This music is not merely for ambience: the act of listening is central to the experience. Many kissa ask visitors to remain silent. Kawasaki Toshiya, who runs his own listening bar in Tokyo, says the atmosphere this creates is akin to “sitting in meditation at a temple”. The listening bars that have sprung up in the West, South America and Africa—most of which have opened in the past decade—rarely have stringent rules on chitchat. Space Talk, for instance, has not banned nattering, but it has implemented a “no photos or videos” policy. All Blues, a venue in New York, politely asks visitors to “let the music do the talking”. Some bars host dedicated events where guests can hear an album in full or listen to music tied to a particular artist or theme.
The “real magic” of ongaku kissa culture is to create an environment “where you can be genuinely moved to the core by music”, says Nick Dwyer, the director of a documentary on Tokyo’s music cafés. What makes this new wave of venues interesting, he says, is that proprietors have “their own take” on the format and are adapting it into “something that works in London, New York, Barcelona or wherever”. There are three reasons why the ongaku kissa model has succeeded as a cultural export. One is Japanomania. A record 43m foreign holidaymakers visited the country in 2025. Over several decades, Japan has established itself as a trendsetter and tastemaker in everything from video games to fashion and design, meaning that where the Japanese lead, others will follow. The second reason is that listening bars and ongaku kissa offer an appealing alternative to nightclubs, which are in decline. These bars provide a relaxed, stylish environment for retired ravers and youngsters alike. Here, enjoying music need not mean enduring punishing opening hours (and punishing hangovers). The third reason is that these bars offer a distinctive, curated experience to suit a wide variety of tastes. Jim Hanmer, the co-founder of Jazu, another listening bar in London, made a pilgrimage to Japan to visit several jazz kissa. (“Jazu” is a nod to the Japanese pronunciation of “jazz”.) He was drawn to the venues that reflected the owner’s lifelong passion. In these places, “you could listen to a record that you’ve heard 30 times before, but because you’re in this unique environment, it sounds totally different.” At a listening bar, even an old track can find a new groove. ■ This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com/culture/2026/08/20/japans-music-cafes-are-striking-a- chord-abroad
Two vital figures of the American revolution forgotten by history Charles Lennox and James Wilson, a pair of Britons, played important roles in the struggle for independence Aug 20th 2026 A STROLL THROUGH the gallery of America’s Founding Fathers yields familiar faces. Here is brave, disciplined George Washington alongside sociable, inventive Benjamin Franklin. There is John Adams—principled and prickly—squabbling with brilliant, curious Thomas Jefferson. Two new books seek to draw your gaze to two forgotten figures, each with strikingly expansive views of democracy. The founders, as a whole, were inconsistent. They allowed slavery to endure. They wanted out from under Britain’s thumb, but not universal suffrage. Roger Sherman, the only person to sign all four of the founding