The last wooden kiosk
On the square Alexander Kiellands plass lies a true gem: the last remaining wooden kiosk in Oslo's city centre. Through blizzards and rainy days, Syverkiosken is always there, like a friend you can count on. And the hot dogs are quite popular.
The secret's in the broth, according to Erlend, who has inherited both the recipe and the kiosk from his father. And worked here since he was 13 years old.
It’s Sunday at noon. After several days of continuous rain, the sun is finally out. It’s the end of September, and this may very well be the last warm Sunday this year. The trees are yellow. Leaves in beautiful colours lie on the ground. Alexander Kiellands plass is waking up and Syverkiosken has just opened.
Erlend lights a lantern outside his kiosk.
– I just got here. I’ve been out playing with my kids.
That’s all we have time for before an older couple on their Sunday stroll appear. They order one hot dog each. We retreat to the nearest table to give Erlend some space. More people come by, everyone strikes up a chat. They all lean on the counter, like you'd do on the kitchen table at a friend's house. Erlend has time for every one of them. These are hot dogs worth waiting for, after all.
An older man named Svein walks towards our table with his cane, carrying a hot dog and a bottle of the local soda Tøyen-Cola. It doesn’t get much more Oslo than this. He sits down.
– Did you know that the border between the neighbourhoods Sagene and Grünerløkka goes right across this road? This is borderland!
He tells us stories about how the city used to look. As a retired photographer, he knows all its secrets. He takes his Sunday strolls here now.
Nothing like having a hot dog out in fresh air. He takes a big bite.
– I'm not sure exactly where the border is. Let’s ask Erlend for the old photos.
The conversation turns to preservation of the old. How important it is.
He takes a sip of the soda.
– They constantly want to build new things. But Erlend owns his land, you know, so Syverkiosken stays where it is.
He smiles.
Erlend comes out of his kiosk carrying the old photos. He points towards the stairs across the road.
– Grünerløkka starts at the stairs, he says, this is Sagene.
The sky turns greyish. Svein looks troubled.
– I'd like a cane with an umbrella attached to it. I need that in my life.
The hot dog is gone and Svein stands up.
– I'm going home to look at my old maps, so I know where we are, he hums.
We wave goodbye.
Erlend's dad bought the kiosk from the Syversen family in 1979.
– I have no idea how long the kiosk has been here, but I have seen a photo from 1936, it was here then.
He walks out on the pavement and points to a huge tree above us.
– Look at this maple watching over the kiosk. It's majestic. Look how big it is!
The branches extend out, like a protector. This kiosk has a rich history.
– I was three or four years old the first time I was here. Dad would drive us, and we would always get a hot dog then, and I remember I thought it was SO COOL.
Fond memories fill this place, like the conversations he had with his dad in here.
Erlend waves to someone across the road.
– HI! HELLO!
They wave back.
He smiles.
– That was Ulv and his dad.
We watch them walk away until they disappear in the distance. There's a sense of warmth here. Syverkiosken belongs to everybody. Erlend nods.
– The rich and the poor meet outside this stand, eating hot dogs. That’s how Oslo should be.
He smiles.
– My grandmother used to make waffles here on Sundays, for a guy she called "old man". He lived at a nursery home. My grandmother was 95 years old, "old man" was only 75.
He laughs.
– Old man would come here around 2 p.m. on Sundays, he would order ten waffles, and that was my grandmother’s job. To come here an make those waffles. There were 200 wooden kiosks in Oslo back then. Can you imagine! It's not that long ago. Now, this is the only one still standing.
He talks about how Oslo is losing important parts of itself when the kiosks disappear. People have been eating hot dogs in the streets of this city since 1910.
– We love to eat hot dogs on Constitution Day, for birthdays, on the street, after a few beers, in the park. Norwegians are actually eating most hot dogs of any population in the world ... HI, HELLO!
Once again, people pass by, and once again, Erlend greets them with a smile and a wave.
It’s becoming clear to us that he knows everything and everyone passing down this street.
He nods.
– This has been my workplace for the past 28 years. That’s how it is, I guess.
He has seen the chain stores spread during his time here. Everyone knows that everything becomes cheaper if you can buy it by the truckload. Erlend believes that owning the kiosk has been a massive advantage for him.
– My dad left me the kiosk and his broth recipe. You're not in this for the money. It’s about excellence in ingredients and preparation, you want to offer people completely fresh hot dogs.
A tourist from Texas stops by. He orders a hot dog. Erlend gives him a free cup of homemade grape and apple juice.
It’s delicious. They chatter about Oslo and how green it is. The tourist says he has Norwegian relatives, and he is so happy to finally be here. Erlend recommends a cosy pub down the street.
We wave goodbye.
Erlend wipes the counter.
– This place has a lot of history, and I am very fond of my customers. That bloke just now was very cheerful, and he has never been here before.
From the outside world, it looks like Erlend has friends visiting all day. We laugh.
– I like talking to people. I think it’s nice to hear what they do and where they come from.
He reveals a stack of foreign money that customers have gifted him. Some even have handwritten greetings. No wonder people talk about this place.
The rumour spread all the way to the British newspaper The Guardian in December 2017. Tourists have come to Syverkiosken because of it. Erlend shakes his head, laughing.
– We had our Christmas party that day. I didn’t even know about the story, one of my guests told me.
A typical Christmas party in Scandinavia is organised by employers or organisations for their employees and members.
The Christmas party at Syverkiosken, on the other hand, is for customers, neighbours, family and friends. Erlend points us in the direction of a small backyard, currently holding his bicycle.
– We place a swing grill here. We invite people to this day, and they show up, some with kids even, and we serve them gløgg. It’s not a raging party, just eating of hot dogs in good company. The last guest went home at 3 am last year.
One thing has become clear. This is not just a kiosk, it is a family kitchen, and the family members are anyone who wants a delicious, cheap snack.
Everyone is welcome here.
Syverkisoken even hosts a music festival in the summer called "Music on The Roof". It lasts for one day, and the bands are placed on the roof of the kiosk.
– We had nine bands this year. 750 people stopped by that day. Vi sold an insane number of hot dogs.
We glance inside the kiosk. Very little space?
– Yes! Chaos! I had three helpers in here, and some volunteers. It takes days to prepare for this festival and HI! HELLO!
Fully accustomed to these interruptions now, we notice someone waving heavily to our left.
All the secrets he inherited from his father he has kept well, including the customers.
He smiles.
– There was a couple here once. They giggled and didn’t say much at first. Then the lady told me they had met outside this kiosk 50 years ago, and they had been married for 50 years now.
He lights up.
– I gave them some hot dogs to celebrate!
When asked about the future, he is certain. He stays.
– I think a lot of people would be disappointed if Syverkiosken disappeared. Oslo would lose something many people love. I wouldn't be able to with my head held high. It wouldn’t be right for me, nor many others.
He has invested many hours in this kiosk. It’s tough, running a business on your own, always on the run. Still, his 4-year-old son has told him he’ll take over. Sounds promising.
– The kiosk is a part of me. Mom always said dad was in love with the kiosk. He spent more time in the kiosk than with her.
His voice softens.
– Running a business is not the best combination with having a family. I played with my kids before work today, and when I get home they have to go to sleep.
But this is his place-
In this street, where everybody waves.
The wind blows in the maple above us.
He tells us about the birds living there.
– There’s a wagtail living on the roof. She comes back every year from Africa. When I see her, I know the frosts are over. I know it’s spring.
And Syverkiosken will be there. Through blizzards and rainy days, the red wooden walls stand strong.
– The wagtail always comes back, this must be the 7th or 8th generation. It was my father who started to feed her.
A car comes up to the curve and a man walks out of it. Erlend smiles.
– What do you know! This man has been a customer since my father ran the kiosk.
The man laughs and orders a hot dog. It’s time for us to do the same.
And something tells us Syverkiosken will be just fine.
We wave goodbye and bring our hot dogs on the go.
It snaps like a good hot dog is supposed to and tastes delicious.
The sun shines on the paintings on the wall.
Well, this has been lovely.