Partway through our meal at Surfers, a Chinese restaurant in Sweden’s capital of Stockholm, Ludvig Saaf bursts into song. It is a Mongolian drinking song about fermented mare’s milk, but few in the dining room can understand the Mandarin lyrics.
We join in, though, answering each rousing “Hey!” with a rowdy one of our own. At the end, we shout “ganbei” – a Chinese term meaning “cheers” – and down our thimble-sized glasses of baijiu, a Chinese spirit.






