Bernal Heights has a new candy store, and it also happens to serve hot dogs loaded with bay shrimp salad. Only in San Francisco. Amelia Eudailey — the Colorado-born, half-Swedish chef behind Hej Hej, the pop-up that quietly became one of SF's most talked-about street food concepts — has set up a temporary candy store at 420 Cortland Ave. through at least the third weekend of May, in the space that formerly housed electric bike shop The New Wheel.
The shop, painted in the blue and yellow of the Swedish flag, stocks 30 bins of Scandinavian candy — sour skulls, citrus taffy, gummy eggs, chocolate wafer bars, and strawberry twists — alongside plenty of product from Bubs, the Swedish confectioner that has become a bona fide TikTok sensation. There's also a bin of salty licorice logs, the bracing, anise-flavored, molasses-blackened treat that is as common in Sweden as M&Ms are here, and divisive in approximately the same ratio. "It's an acquired taste," Eudailey told The San Francisco Standard. "But just like anything, when you get older, you're like, 'Oh, I crave this.'" A gentler cactus-flavored licorice chew has proved so popular she's had trouble keeping it in stock.
From Tech to Tubed Meats — With Swedish Candy on the Side
Eudailey's journey to candy store proprietor is a characteristically San Francisco origin story: she came up through tech, realized it wasn't for her, staged in a real kitchen at Octavia, and launched Hej Hej as a hot dog pop-up in 2023. As reported by Berkeleyside, she started under the name "Swede-ish," experimenting with Swedish meatball breakfast burritos and other mashups before narrowing her focus to the thing that resonated most: the Swedish hot dog, piled high with bay shrimp salad and cheesy mashed potatoes. According to DollarSprout, she now grosses up to $2,000 per event, with candy bundles and merch functioning as easy and lucrative upsells. The Bernal pop-up is a natural evolution of what was already a hybrid concept.
The hot dogs haven't gone anywhere. On the candy store's front patio, Eudailey is grilling for the next three Saturdays from 4 to 7 p.m. — franks from Cream Co., a trout version sourced from Fish in Sausalito, and a pork bratwurst by Lottie's Meats. The loaded beef dog comes dressed with bay shrimp salad, cheesy mashed potatoes, dill pickles, crispy onions, ketchup, and mustard. As many as 100 people have come through on recent Saturdays. "In Sweden, you're not just eating hot dogs in the summer," Eudailey told The Standard. "You have them after every celebration. They're integrated into life."
A Taste of Something That Doesn't Exist Here — Yet
The candy selection is deliberately personal rather than comprehensive. Eudailey grew up making summer trips to Sweden to visit relatives, and the store is essentially her attempt to bottle that sensory memory — particularly the walls of bulk candy found everywhere in Sweden, from department stores to gas stations. The Swedish fish, for what it's worth, are not the American version. "It's not a super chewy gummy," she told The Standard. "It has a cured quality." The shop also carries OLW brand Cheez Doodles, a hard-to-find Swedish import that prompted at least one expat to run in off the street when she spotted them in the window.
Rounding out the shop is a line of Hej Hej merch — coloring books, stickers, hair clips — that has turned the pop-up into something approaching a legitimate brand. Eudailey is hunting for a permanent space, and if she can't find one before the Cortland lease wraps, she's eyeing one-weekend-per-month extensions through summer. Her long-stated dream, per her own Substack, is something like a locally sourced grocery store that sells Swedish hot dogs, hosts pop-ups, and serves champagne. For now, 420 Cortland will do nicely. Hot dogs Saturdays, 4–7 p.m., through May 17. Candy daily.
