From Delft to Nagoya: A Nostalgic Ikea Adventure (with Meatballs, of course)

Let’s be honest—you didn’t really go to Ikea if you didn’t end up eating Swedish meatballs.

Last Sunday, Hiromi and I drove to Ikea Nagoya, about an hour from our doorstep, and I did what most people do at Ikea before even thinking about furniture: I got the meatballs. Swedish meatballs with brown gravy, that signature berry jam, mashed potatoes, and green peas—exactly what the Ikea gods intended.

For the curious: that jam? It’s lingonberry jam (sylt lingon in Swedish), a tart-sweet red berry spread made from berries native to Scandinavian forests—kind of like cranberries, but smaller and sassier. And the brown sauce? That’s not just gravy—it’s called gräddsås, a creamy blend of butter, broth, and soy sauce that adds just the right amount of savory magic. Ikea sells both, in case you’re inspired to recreate this culinary masterpiece at home.

But this wasn’t just about meatballs. It was a rather nostalgic trip. You see, Hiromi and I were practically Ikea regulars back when we lived in the Netherlands. Our usual haunt was Ikea Delft, where we scored great deals and gave our home a stylish boost without ever regretting a single purchase. Affordable, timeless design—what’s not to love?

So stepping into Ikea Nagoya was like stepping through a portal. Everything was almost identical—from the warehouse layout to the massive elevators made for shopping carts. Even the parking lot gave us flashbacks.

But there was one little thing that stood out: no air conditioning in the elevator.

Now, this might not be an intentional difference—but on a hot and humid Japanese summer day, I definitely felt its absence. Maybe it’s just the standard Ikea elevator, brought in wholesale from Sweden and installed here without much concern for the local climate. Part of me couldn’t help but think: “Stubbornly Swedish,” as if the elevator itself was holding onto its Scandinavian roots, climate and all.

A Tale of Two Ikeas

Despite the architectural déjà vu, we quickly noticed one major difference: the crowd. Ikea Delft on a weekend could rival a music festival. But Ikea Nagoya? Peaceful, almost spacious. It felt more like a pleasant stroll through a stylish showroom than a tactical shopping battle.

There were noticeably fewer people, fewer full carts, and practically no checkout lines. It reminded us of the Dutch phrase: “Kijken, kijken, niet kopen” (look, look, don’t buy). Ikea in Japan, it seems, is still more of a novelty—something to explore rather than shop in bulk from.

But not for us. We came on a mission.

The Mission: Guest Room Reloaded

We’re currently upgrading our guest rooms in a more Western style, and Ikea was the clear winner when it came to bedding, storage, and small stylish touches. Sure, Nitori offers similar items, but we just couldn’t find what we liked there. Ikea’s timeless Scandinavian designs always win us over.

We also made sure to stock up on a few pantry classics—crackers, cinnamon buns, and of course: pretzels.

Now, here’s where Japan surprised me.

Those pretzels? Filled with butter.

Not something I remembered ever seeing at Ikea in the Netherlands—but it was genius. A soft, salty pretzel with butter inside? Simple, satisfying… and oddly familiar.

Then it hit me—that’s exactly like the Silserli I grew up with in Switzerland. Back home, a Silserli is a pretzel cut in half and spread with cold butter—perfect for breakfast or a school snack. Just the memory of it made me smile. I hadn’t thought about it in years, and suddenly Japan handed me this nostalgic little surprise wrapped in a pretzel bag.

A brilliant twist that felt both familiar and foreign—very Japanese in spirit. Japan has this unique talent for taking Western foods and giving them a local, thoughtful remix. You’ll notice it even at fast food chains here: familiar items with a quiet little twist that makes them unmistakably Japanese.

And no, I don’t think the pretzel is the reason people often confuse Switzerland with Sweden—but if butter-filled baked goods were part of the mix-up, I wouldn’t blame them.

Meanwhile, at Muji…

We’d also picked up a few furnishings from Muji earlier. Speaking of Muji—has anyone else noticed the music they use in their commercials? It’s always this soft, nostalgic Scottish countryside tune. A totally Japanese brand, yet somehow they consistently go for that Highland vibe. I’m used to it now, but it still makes me laugh every time I hear it. It’s like Muji is secretly trying to sell you wool blankets and tea from a foggy glen in the north of Scotland.

So yes, meatballs were eaten. Rooms were improved. Butter-filled pretzels brought back childhood memories.

And somewhere in the background, a Muji ad was probably playing the soundtrack to Braveheart.

Have you ever made a pilgrimage to Ikea in a different country? And what’s your take on Japan’s creative remixes of Western food?