We owe much to The Nordics. Givers of Edvard Munch and the Moomins, of LEGO and longships, of saunas and smörgåsbords. Somewhere along the way, we borrowed their yoke sweaters, and they our Fair Isle socks. We ate cinnamon buns and sang Super Trouper and coaxed ourselves into lakes too cold for our own good. This month, we're shining a northern light on the best of British Nordic: from tables piled with cocoa and honey loaves to seaside cottages that are more Copenhagen than Cornwall.
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