When I was away at college I lived with a local family of Norwegian descent.
Around the holidays, we were all invited to an in-law's to partake of a traditional holiday dinner. My hostess said to me, "I know you love fish. Make sure your calendar's clear so you can come!" Okay, I thought. That so was very nice of her, wasn't it?
The day before the event, my hostess suddenly had something come up preventing her attendance, so I went over to the other house with her husband and their kids.
The house was decorated very festively for the holidays and the table setting was beautiful....pristine white linens, white china and sparkling silver. The ladies in the family were busily cooking away in the kitchen. Very homey!
Dinner time rolls around and the meal is served. Lutefisk swimming in butter, boiled potatoes and lefse (a sort of potato tortilla/flatbread) with lingonberry jelly. Everything was white except for the jelly. On white china on white linens. VERY WHITE. There may have been overcooked peas on the side, but I can't really recall them.
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So, everybody dishes up and there I am looking at this
very white meal. Okay, I thought. Maybe they don't know about interesting presentation. There are worse things. My first inkling I was in trouble was from the aroma wafting delicately over the table.
After a pre-prandial grace, we all dug in. My first mouthful was of the lutefisk.
How to describe that first bite? Its a bit like describing a bad root canal to the uninitiated. If you are talking to someone else who has lived through the experience, they'll be able to relate and sympathize, but to explain it to a lutefisk virgin...words just cannot adequately express how unpleasant the texture and flavor of this dish is...something like a combination of fish jello/mashed potatoes. The taste is vile. Ay, yi, yi!
Eyes watering, I managed to swallow the bite, but now I was sunk. The polite thing to do as a guest is to clean your plate, right? I had to think about it, but finally decided that if I buried the rest of the fish in the mashed potatoes and folded each bite into the lefse and got the mess down without chewing, I might just be able to be sociably correct. After all, millions of Norwegians survived on this stuff, right?
During the dinner, I asked about the fish. Turns out that lutefisk is dried salt cod preserved in lye. Yep, that's right, lye — According to the dictionary it's "a strong alkaline liquor rich in potassium carbonate leached from wood ashes and used especially in making soap, washing and cleaning."
The lye alters the texture of the meat from anything even faintly resembling normal fish and must be soaked out in many changes of water before the fish is cooked into submission. I might mention that uncooked, this item looks something like wood shakes. I bet that you could shingle houses with this stuff.
Norwegian-American saying: "Half the Norwegians who immigrated to America came in order to escape the hated lutefisk, and the other half came to spread the gospel of lutefisk's wonderfulness."
whatscookingamerica.net/History/LutefiskHistory.htm
It appears from statistics that these days, more lutefisk is consumed in Wisconsin than in Norway. They DO have refrigeration in the old world now, after all.
There are worse things, I suppose. Sheep's eyeballs in the Middle East, bull's testicles in Spain, casu marzu cheese (intentionally infested with live larvae) from Sardinia, rotten shark in Finland, barbecued bugs in the Far East or Haggis in Scotland. Norway is not the only nation with scary food.
Shirley LaBissonniers shares her recipe for lutefisk:
First of all, invite brave people over for dinner who do not have misconceptions about this wonderful fish! Next, go to a store that carried the freshest of fish and seafood. Ideally, you would get the lutefisk that they pull out of a barrel (most stores hate those barrels a lot and don't do that anymore). Second best, it comes skinless and "trimmed" and packaged in a plastic.
Purchase the lutefisk a day before you want to serve it. Take it out of the plastic bag, put it in a large bowl, and cover with ice water. Change this water two to three times and keep in the refrigerator (if your family will let you). This firms up the fish.
Put the lutefisk in a glass baking dish and season with salt and pepper. Put in a preheated oven at 375 degrees F. for 25 to 30 minutes. The fish is done when it flakes easily with a fork. Do not overcook it or it will look like white Jello! It will be not brown.
In Minnesota, we allow at least a pound of lutefisk per person, served with hot melted butter. The two side dishes are riced potatoes and very small cooked frozen peas - no exceptions.
And, of course, you must have lefse. This is a ritual which we try to repeat as often as possible and as long as we can get the fresh lutefisk.
www.scandinaviansonly.com/food/lutefisk/
I managed to do my social duty and we eventually went back home. I asked my hostess how her other event (you know, the one that prevented her attending the dinner) went. She laughed and said, "Oh, I cannot stand lutefisk. I just decided not to go!" What a submarine job she laid on me.
I have never forgiven her nor eaten lutefisk since.
Ode to Lutefisk (sung to O, Christmas Tree/O Tannenbaum)
O Lutefisk, O Lutefisk, how fragrant your aroma,
O Lutefisk, O Lutefisk, you put me in a coma.
You smell so strong, you look like glue,
You taste just like an overshoe,
But lutefisk, come Saturday,
I tink I eat you anyvay
O Lutefisk, O lutefisk, I put you in the doorvay.
I wanted you to ripen up just like they do in Norvay.
A dog came by and sprinkled you.
I hit him with my overshoe.
O lutefisk, now I suppose
I'll eat you while I hold my nose.
O Lutefisk, O lutefisk, how well I do remember.
On Christmas Eve how we'd receive our big treat of December.
It wasn't turkey or fried ham.
It wasn't even pickled Spam.
My mother knew there was no risk
In serving buttered lutefisk.
O Lutefisk, O lutefisk, now everyone discovers
That lutefisk and lefse make Norvegians better lovers.
Now all the world can have a ball.
You're better than that Geritol.
O lutefisk, with brennevin [Norwegian brandy]
You make me feel like Errol Flynn.
O Lutefisk, O lutefisk, you have a special flavor.
O Lutefisk, O lutefisk, all good Norvegians savor.
That slimy slab we know so well
Identified by ghastly smell.
O Lutefisk, O lutefisk,
Our loyalty won't waver.
www.hymnsandcarolsofchristmas.com
Never again.
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