Author: Gary Legwold

I asked at the information booth about THE new food at the Minnesota State Fair: Crispy Lutefisk Steamed Buns. Judging from the knowing “here’s another one” look on the volunteer’s face, I figured that the word was out and fair goers were going for the lutefisk a lot. Indeed, there were 173,724 people in attendance that Sunday, and I was sure that all but five of them were there to try the lutefisk!

Jane Legwold and I made our way through the crowds of strollers and backpacks and people waiting in long lines for Pronto Pups. (An average of nearly 30,000 Pronto Pups are sold daily at the fair.) We finally reached Shanghai Henri’s, where the Crispy Lutefisk Steamed Buns entree was sold. Now, the lines were nothing like Pronto Pup lines, but business was brisk. The guys waiting on me said they sold out of the “lutee” the day before, and things were hopping already at 11 a.m. In fact, the orders of “two lutees and a 20 oz.” (of beer) were in the air when I waited for my order. (Was the beer for washing down the food or for bracing for the lutefisk?)

I received my four buns, each cuddling a slice of baked lutefisk. The lutefisk was not boiled and jelly-like, which took off the table one of the typical complaints about lutefisk. Also, there was no fishy odor, another plus. The fish was covered with a delicious sweet hoisin sauce, then baked and topped with sesame seeds. Beneath the lutefisk was a blend of cabbage, carrots, cilantro and yum yum sauce.

I was about ready to eat my first bite, but I paused. It was the same kind of pause that happens before you push off on a zip line. A nearby man had been watching me. He laughed and shouted, “What are you waiting for?”

I smiled and said, “I’m collecting my thoughts.” I could have meant I was collecting my thoughts before I put together a prayer for strength and tolerance.

In a word, it was tasty. The hoisin over the fish and the vegetables dominated, but I could still detect enough of the lutefisk flavor to tell that it was indeed lutefisk. The bun was OK but a bit filling, but all in all the dish was good and very creative.

A man sat nearby with his daughter, I assumed, and appeared to be enjoying his lutefisk. His unsmiling daughter gave him sideways glances as if to say, “Dad, don’t do that in public.” She smiled when I asked her about what she thought of lutefisk and said she doesn’t eat it. The dad said he liked it and was impressed that for $14.25 there was a lot of food in the serving.

I asked another man what he thought of the lutefisk. “You know, I have not had lutefisk in 10 years,” he said, chuckling. “When I saw this was a new food at the state fair, I had to come and give it a try. I like it.”

There was relief in the responses, not only that the lutefisk was fun and tasty … but that the tasters had lived to tell about it.

Lutefisk is in the news, and that’s good. I think.

The Star Tribune recently ran two lutefisk stories, one about recruiting 50 competitors for the 50th annual lutefisk-eating contest in Madison, Minnesota, better known as Lutefisk Capital USA (see photo below).

The second article is more sneaky good, perhaps ominous. The article titled “How Lutefisk Got State Fair Slot” begins:

The Minnesota State Fair has never selected a lutefisk dish as one of its official new foods. Until now.

Now it’s the dish on everyone’s radar as we approach the Aug. 24 kickoff to the Great Minnesota Get Together: Crispy Lutefisk Steam Buns at Shanghai Henri’s food stand.

Star Tribune July 14, 2023

The good is that lutefisk is finally getting its moment on the big stage, the Minnesota State Fair, the second largest state fair attracting 2 million visitors in 12 days, compared with Texas, the largest state fair attracting 2.25 million in 24 days. And the vendor has ordered 2 tons of lutefisk for the fair. Impressive!

The not-so-good, perhaps, is the State Fair lutefisk will be dressed up so much that it won’t look like lutefisk nor taste much like it, either. “The exterior,” says the article, “is brushed with sweet-salty hoisin sauce and broiled until there’s a crispy crust.” This preparation of lutefisk is served in white-bread soft buns (see opening photo).

I gotta admit, that looks and sounds delicious, and I am making a special trip to the State Fair to sample it. (I think the last time I was at the State Fair was in 2018 when I just had to try Uffda Ale, a beer with a lefse crisp served on the side. It was good!) My hope is a lot of people try the State Fair lutefisk and like it and become lutefisk fans.

My Fear

My fear is this: If and when they try traditional lutefisk—no hoisin sauce or broiled crust, just a white sauce or melted butter—they’ll be bummed and feel duped, joining the ranks of lutefisk haters who have good stories about bad lutefisk. Or think about this: What if they do like it and go around crowing about how great lutefisk is. Hmmm. It’s like they passed a test but the test was watered down, or in this case hoisined up. So without the fishy smell or the jelly texture that lutefisk veterans have proudly endured (like war scars), there was nothing to hate—and part of the lore of lutefisk is the love-hate. Lutefisk lovers still like to poke fun at lutefisk but feel as if they have earned the right to be in an elite club of true lutefisk lovers who fully comprehend the lye of lutefisk.

I’m hopeful, however, and optimistic. This State Fair lutefisk shows imagination and a willingness to honor a grand old traditional food by adding some pizzaz. (Hey, I’ve made aquavit lefse, so I get it. ) That lutefisk finally has become a State Fair food is an indicator that this delightful, disputed, enduring and I dare say endearing dish is important to a lot of people. Otherwise, it would not be at the State Fair.

But if you don’t make it to the State Fair but do make it to a church basement dinner where the lutefisk is not overcooked or, better yet, a lutefisk dinner prepared by a friend, then expect a wonderful meal—I kid you not—that you’ll remember the rest of your life.

Ah lutefisk, the food we love to hate … and, as it turns out, the food we hate to love. We carp about the lye and the smell of lutefisk, but we do so out of love. C’mon, if we didn’t love lutefisk, would the Lutefisk Limerick Contest have resulted in 123 lutefisk limericks? If we truly hated this maligned and most misunderstood food, no one would bother to agonize into the wee, dark hours to get that most brilliant limerick rhythm and rhyming just right — and then do it again and again because writing limericks is so much fun. No, the Lutefisk Limerick Contest would have been a bust.

But I am busting with happiness that so many people — one even from Berlin — have let their sense of humor and passion for our uniquely Scandinavian ish-fish override their aw-shucks notion that they have nothing to offer to the world of premier poetry. Uff-da!

Champion Peter Holbrook

I am most happy to say that the Lutefisk Limerick Contest has a champ. He is Peter Holbrook of Minneapolis, shown above! Congratulations, Peter, who wins the above Glass-Honey Locust rolling pin!

Peter submitted five limericks, and four of them could have been the winning limerick. Here they are:

From assassins King Harald had flown
And he wandered the land all alone.
So we made him a bisque
Made of stale lutefisk
Now he sits on the porcelain throne.

“If God loves us sinners,” said Tommy,
“Why is there still lutefisk, Mommy?”
“It’s a cross we must bear,
So just say a prayer
And eat it, before it gets gummy.”

A young jellyfish on vacation
Laid her eggs by a nuclear station
And when they were hatched
We caught us a batch
Of the best lutefisk in creation!

At dinner, Lord Henry was stricken
The inspector was stumped, ‘til it hit him.
“That bit of white goo
On his chin is a clue:
‘Twas the lutefisk supper that did ‘im!”

People’s Choice Awards

This year I am introducing an idea that came from Jim Leet of Roseburg, Oregon. Jim has placed in past Lefse Limerick Contests and is entered in the Lutefisk Limerick Contest. Jim’s idea for the People’s Choice Awards is to list the best of the rest of the lutefisk limericks that were not penned by the champion and then let voters determine who wins the prizes for second, third and fourth places.

Second place prize:

Third place prize:

Fourth place prize:

Below are 20 pretty dang good lutefisk limericks worthy of winning the above prizes. The lutefisk limericks are listed by number only, not by name. Vote for the number of your three most favorite limericks. You can vote for your own limerick and two other limericks by someone else. Vote simply by emailing me at glegwold@lutefisk.com and make sure you vote by end of day April 1, 2023.

Here are the 20 lutefisk limericks eligible for the People’s Choice Awards. Email me at glegwold@lutefisk.com by end of day April 1st, and include the numbers of your three favorites.

1.
Such a clever Norwegian well bred
is that Helga who uses her head
to wear lutefisk perfume
that will empty the room
leaving lefse the others have fled.

2.
"Is the lutefisk that takes you two weeks
really worth," I inquired, "what it wreaks?"
The reply was, "Of course,"
from some salty old Norse,
"beats the hell out of turkey and leeks."

3.
Ole’s old “Homemade Recipe Primer”
Has this secret for making one trimmer:
On your lutefisk, pour prunes
About 10 tablespoons
And, you betcha, you soon will be slimmer.

4.
Single Ole's date was going well
They ate lutefisk and his heart did swell
Other girls ran away,
But this sweet gal did say,
"With long COVID, I can't taste or smell."

5.
There once was a man named Ole
Who loved Lutefisk - ate it solely.
He noticed one day
Even flies stayed away
But Lena's attraction - unholy.

6.
A stinky old dish is the lutefisk;
To taste it is taking a grave risk.
It smells like your feet
Not like something to eat
And its trip through your stomach is quite brisk.

7.
"A codpiece"? What comes to mind?
Something of a "manlier" kind
Than stinky lye fish
Served hot in a dish
But in Norway, that's what you'll find.

8.
The lutefisk smelled like a latrine
Its edges had turned a light green
I heard someone mutter
“Just add some more butter”
Then everyone licked their plates clean

9.
A gooey Norwegian fish mess
The recipe’s anyone’s guess
But lutefisk still stays
In Norse holidays
Some think it deserves better press

10.
Lutefisk – you love it or not
Some think it quite like warm snake snot
But others declare love
And always want more of
This Viking treat fresh from the pot

11.
Sven’s girlfriend Britt was a sinner
But she made him lutefisk for dinner
Transgressions forgot
When she served it hot
And Britt was revered as a winner

12.
With lutefisk for breakfast each morn
Add butter and spuds to adorn
White sauce laced with dill
Just sit back and chill
It makes you so glad you were born

13.
A lovely lass welcomed Leif in.
“The feast is about to begin!”
Leif took a great risk
and tried lutefisk.
“I’m vegan….” he said with chagrin.

14.
There once was a Viking named Thor
Who kept lutefisk outside his door.
The raccoons ran away,
And the bears said, “No way!”
But the skunks all said “Let’s have some more!”

15.
An aging old Norskie named Luke
Made some lutefisk, just on a fluke.
Ma said, “It looks great,
And fits nice on my plate
But the smell of it might make me puke.”

16.
Per died and so, dust to dust,
Ole stood up to say what he must,
"Per liked lutefisk best,
Thought this world was a mess."
His motto was: "In cod we trust!"

17.
Lutefisk is internationally notorious
And its preparation somewhat laborious
But with lefse and butter
The experience is utter-
Ly, fabulously lipsmackingly glorious

18.
I care for lutefisk jokes not a whit
Think up one and I’ll call you a twit
The dish is delicious
No need to be vicious
I’ll eat yours if you want to get rid of it

19.
It's a mystery down through the ages
This fish delicacy thought from the sages
But the recipe was wrong
With lutefisk all along
It was PIE not LYE on the pages.

20.
There once was a cod in the sea.
Caught by a fisherman was thee.
They soaked it in lye
for a Scandinavian high.
Plugging your nose is the key.

Again, email me at glegwold@lutefisk.com with the numbers of your favorite three. The People’s Choice Award winners will be named in the April newsletter. Good luck, all!

Once again, I run the risk of offering a limerick contest, and this time the 3rd Annual Lefse Limerick Contest is actually the Lutefisk Limerick Contest. It’s time to give lutefisk its due. Can I have an AMEN?

So start cranking out the lutefisk limericks and send them my way. The Lutefisk Limerick Contest runs throughout the rest of the month of February until March 16, 2023. That means one month of oodles of doodles about our favorite love-hate topic, lutefisk.

Refresher on limerick writing:

• Make sure you have seven to nine beats in the first, second, and fifth lines, with the last word in those lines rhyming.

• Have five to seven beats in the third and fourth lines, with the last word in those lines having a different rhyme than the last word in the first, second, and fifth lines.

You will rise quickly in the ranks if your lutefisk limericks adhere to these rules, or you’re pretty close 🤓. Email your lutefisk limericks to glegwold@lutefisk.com.

High Risk, High Reward

Let’s get back to the risk. Wikipedia defines a limerick as “a form of verse, usually humorous and frequently rude,” in five-lines. Again, the first, second and fifth lines rhyme, and the third and fourth lines, which are shorter, have a different rhyme.

The form originated in England in the 18th century and became popular in the 19th century. Wikipedia says, “Gershon Legman, who compiled the largest and most scholarly anthology, held that the true limerick as a folk form is always obscene … . From a folkloric point of view, the form is essentially transgressive; violation of taboo is part of its function.”

Wikipedia cites the following example is a limerick of unknown origin:

The limerick packs laughs anatomical
Into space that is quite economical.
But the good ones I’ve seen
So seldom are clean
And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

A Clean Lutefisk Limerick

So you see the risk of running a Lutefisk Limerick Contest. To be true to form, a lutefisk limerick, it appears, should be “obscene” and “frequently rude” and a “violation of taboo.” Oh, dear!

Well, following the exact form of a limerick will never do in here Lefse Land. We have our fun with lutefisk, but we are never rude or obscene. No, no, no!

And yet … and yet … it is possible to dance along the borders of the true limerick to create an entertaining lutefisk limerick. Check this out:

There once was a Norsky named Niles
He endured a rough month with the piles
Ate lutefisk — cured!
So please rest assured:
On lutefisk lovers, God smiles.

Gary Legwold

There, that wasn’t so bad! I dance along the border of the true limerick with mention of “piles” in the second line, but I never cross the line. You must admit, the limerick could have gone decidedly south after that. But it didn’t, and we end up with smiles.

One Limerick Leads to Another

For the Lutefisk Limerick Contest, again, you must write a limerick about lutefisk—love it or leave it. Here’s one I just made up, for example. That’s the thing about limericks: You can’t write just one when you’re having so much fun.

Be happy, my friend! Be glad! Be well!

Lutefisk helps, oh, this I do tell.

It tastes great, so delish

Don’t dare call it ish

Provided (ahem) you get past the smell.

Gary Legwold

Ok, your turn. Write your lutefisk limericks and enter the contest. Keep it clean, remember, but be bold and walk the line! Check out this site on how to write a limerick. Again, do your very best with having seven to nine beats in the first, second, and fifth lines with the last word in those lines rhyming. Then five to seven beats in the third and fourth lines, with the last word in those lines having a different rhyme than the last word in the first, second, and fifth lines.

Send your lutefisk limerick or limericks to glegwold@lutefisk.com. Submit as many lutefisk limericks as you want until midnight on March 16. Winners will be announced in my March newsletter. Oh, winners will receive:

FIRST PLACE: the first in my line, the Glass-Honey Locust Rolling Pin. I experimented with this combination of glass and wood, and construction of the pin posed several challenges. But the outcome is beautiful. The sturdy glass handles sparkle and feel great in the hands, and the prominent waves in the honey locust make it clear why this wood is named after the color of honey. This is truly a functional piece of art. Use the pin with a steel rod and ball bearings for a smooth roll, and then display the pin after use. Just take care with the handles. The glass is sturdy, but it is glass.

OTHER WINNERS. If you don’t win first place, there is a chance your lutefisk limericks can still win one of the following three prizes:

Now is the time for lutefisk limerick writers to rise up and put down bold and clever limericks about their favorite love-hate food. Enter the Lutefisk Limerick Contest by emailing limericks to glegwold@lutefisk.com. You have until March 16, 2023. Good luck!