Posted on Leave a comment

Big Wind but Great Lefse

Wind had ripped off our canopy cover, but I kept on rolling lefse.

I sell a hoodie that says, “You Can’t Make Everyone Happy! You’re Not LEFSE!”

Truth be told, many of us dedicated lefse makers try to make everyone happy by making lefse. We are pleasers, for better or worse, knowing full well from so many painful experiences that we cannot possibly please everyone no matter how hard we try. But we have hope that with the power of lefse, which pleases everyone, we can finally reach the promise land and please everyone!

It is the hope I have with every market I do, that my lefse making will please all and make them like my products and maybe me! This sometimes means making dough and rolling lefse in less than ideal conditions. Let me give you three examples, which were firsts for me:

Making lefse in a motel room in Starbuck, Minnesota.

Making Lefse in a Motel Room

Every year in May, there is Lefse Dagen in Starbuck, Minnesota. I’ve been a vendor there several times. This year, my spouse, Jane, and I decided to stay the night before the event at a motel rather than drive up from Minneapolis the day of this celebration of lefse. Staying in a motel meant making lefse in the motel room, which gave me pause.

Setting up my rolling and grilling station on the room’s desk was not a problem, and the lefse turned out great. It resulted in plenty to sell when the event open the next morning, and plenty of dough that was ready to roll at the event. My biggest concern was privacy. People can smell lefse from the next state, if the wind is blowing right, and I was worried about countless knocks on the door from people whose curiosity and desire for fresh lefse was getting the best of them.

Making Lefse in a Bathroom

One other motel room incident happened last month at the Sons of Norway District 1 Convention, where I was a vendor. Part of the convention was a lefse-making class by Jean Knaak, to be held in Room 229 of the motel in Lake Elmo, Minnesota. Jean asked me to take a break from my vending and offer a few pointers.

When I went to 229, the door was open. The lights were out and there was low murmuring. My imagination became activated and I was worried I had the wrong room and was interrupting … something.

But I smelled lefse and saw someone directing a light from their phone onto a counter used for rolling lefse. Relieved, I saw Jean emerge from the shadowy corner. She said their grills had blown fuses and the room lights were out. However, the class continued in the bathroom, where the electricity was still good.

I made my way to the bathroom and offered several lefse-making tips to the small group huddled and happy to be still rolling lefse. It was weird to be making lefse in a bathroom, but wonderful that these resourceful lefse makers were undaunted by a little darkness.

Note the lefse turning stick being used to prevent the wind from blowing the lefse round into the next county.

Making Lefse in a Gale-Force Wind

If you look closely at the opening photo from Lefse Dagen in Starbuck, Minnesota, you can see plenty of signs of a big wind. The canopy cover is blown off, the canopy frame is barely upright from the force of the wind, the tablecloths are furling and flapping, and the cozies are held down by books. But there I am rolling lefse. What a guy!

Actually, the wind heightened the rolling and lightened the moment. As I rolled a round thinner and thinner on my pastry board, I had to pay attention to the wind direction and shield the thin lefse from the wind with my back. Otherwise, the lefse became a spotted kite without a string.

When transferring the rolled round to the grill, I had to play the wind so when I flopped the lefse on the hot grill the wind assisted the round onto the grill and not on the ground.

And then once the round was on the grill, I could not relax but had to cover the windward side of the lefse (see above photo) so the devilish wind would not ruin a good round.

Oh, I could not remove my hand from my rolling pin or else the wind would roll it off the table.

This went on for much of the day. But with three rounds yet to make, a gust blew sand and gravel probably from a beach of nearby Lake Minnewaska. Most of the grit got into my dough, and I knew that my day was done.

But I had put up the good fight and still made good lefse. And maybe I had made everybody happy? Maybe.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *