The god of flat pack meatballs.

I.ke.a
Noun. The Swedish god of flat pack furniture.
Or, as urban dictionary put it:

Ikea – Swedish for “see if you can put this shit together”

Ikea isn’t new to me, but being brave enough to enter it’s doors without a map, and a bag of breadcrumbs, is. Having spent what felt like an eternity trapped in the showroom and then the market area on my first visit many years ago, I’ve often feared treading those halls again. At times I’m sure I could feel my beard growing, and my shadow screaming and so I promised never to return.

The problem is, Ikea sell some great stuff, and at reasonable prices too.

So, it was with mixed feelings, then that I ventured out under cover of darkness (ok, it’s July – under cover of evening sun) for my 3rd visit in just 2 weeks.

I was cocky. Too cocky. I thought I had this all sown up. I thought I had the house beat.
No one beats the house of ikea.

The house always wins.

My over eagerness to show off some ideas to my co-adventurer (hello, mum) was at first met with gleeful nods, and “ooh yes”‘s. As room after room filled my head with “what-ifs” and “perhaps we could…”s I suddenly became aware of what was happening.

I was becoming The narrator.

Everything looked like it would go I’m my house. Everything. All of it. Just fill my house with as much flat pack crap as you can! Doooo Eeeetttt!

The mental struggle from choosing between a Fusion dining set or a Bjursta table and 2, 3 or maybe 4 chairs was getting too much. We had to take a break.

The break led us to the “restaurant”. I’d heard many things about ikea’s food and in particular, the Swedish meatballs. “Amazing”, “delicious”, “omg you have to try the meatballs!” and other words I’ve probably heard all pushing me, a trier of foods, to give the food here a go.

Below we have exhibit A and exhibit B. Exhibit A shows a plate of 15 Swedish meatballs covered in slop, served with limp fries and a compot (jam). Exhibit B shows fish and chips (breaded tough white thing and limp fries).

Now perhaps my expectations for this food was a little high. It’s possible that with all the hoopla surrounding these amazing meaty “pop’em in ya mouth” balls of win I’d lost sight of the fact that we were indeed, eating in a shop that sold sofas and lampshades.

However, that said I’d like to make this statement:
Ikea food is nothing more than low grade McDonalds with meatballs in place of patties.

I hope I’ve not upset too many of you meatball lovers with this shocking truth, and I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that whilst I won’t be rushing back for more meaty balls (or indeed an AWESOME HOTDOG) I did hand over a months wage, having been trapped again for over 3 hours and left with 3 trolleys worth of stuff I have no idea how to put together.

Pass me a screwdriver.
No, the other one.
No, the one with orange in.

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2 thoughts on “The god of flat pack meatballs.

  1. I like the idea of Ikea, but the reality always fails to live up to the sweaty anticipation of a visit to the place. I imagine in my mind’s eye, going in blind without consuling their website or catalogue, that I’m somehow going to find exactly what I’m looking for. The comfiest chair for the gaming (now art) room. The loveliest set of vertical bookcases that fit perfectly into the tiny little space I’ve got allocated for art books. Hell, even a quirky set of kitchenware that can replace the stuff that has unidentifiable black oily stuff molecularly bonded to it.

    The reality, however, is that I spend hour after hour in the place slowly mooching around behind the extremely large couple who manage to second-guess my every move whenever I try to overtake them in IKEA’S snaking one-way system, before settling for something that’s not quite what I wanted but will “merely do”, and then arriving at the vast collection warehouse to find that A) there’s only one of the item I chose left and B) a family of bootboys have kicked the thing to pieces in its box.

    Don’t even get me started on the dining experience. If anyone dares to eulogise about the food at IKEA, they probably reminisce with misty eyes about Wimpy Bars, Angus Steakhouses and Golden Egg restaurants.

  2. I had a moment where one vital component wasn’t on the shelf. It was the central unit to my construction. I was horrified. Got down on my knees and after a shuffle around the boxes found a few knocking around at the back. PHEW!

    “Dining experience” ha..

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