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Africa, Lutefisk and Mopane Worms

African elephants were plentiful and breathtaking up close from a canoe. They were also chilling in my mind one night as they stomped by my tent.

“Travel expands the mind and loosens the bowels,” wrote author and physician Abraham Verghese in Cutting for Stone. This quote came to mind in my game safari last month to the Africa countries of Botswana, Zimbabwe and Zambia. An elephant stomped around my tent building in the first camp in Zimbabwe. It purred as it ate and moved (I didn’t know elephants purred), and I thought it was a lion sizing up its next meal. When it bulled its way through the bush inches away from the window near my ear, I knew it was an elephant and hoped a hip sway wouldn’t wipe out my sanctuary. It didn’t, but at breakfast a fellow traveler asked about my night. I told him of the elephant, and added that the incident was frightening enough to “end whatever travel constipation I had.”

The trip was a celebration of 50 years of marriage to Jane Legwold, and it was wonderful. Oh, the awe of finding and being really close to and hearing the hippos, hyenas, giraffes, lions, cape buffaloes, leopards, kudu, impalas and on and on. The spellbinding tales told by the guides. The history of these young countries in the context of colonialism. The tea times and sundowners in the bush. The elegant meals and deep conversations in camp. The sunny rains and rainbows of Victoria Falls. The spooky majesty of the baobab trees. The kindness and humor and constant singing — really good singing — of the people. By all means, go to Africa.

The spooky majesty of the baobab tree.
The singing group Amazulu introducing a song they sang for our group. Being sung to was a daily thing.
A hyena was as curious about us as we were about it one early morning.
Raincoats were a must in the mists of Victoria Falls, one of the seven wonders of the world and home of rainbows so low you can almost touch them.

Mopane Worms vs. Lutefisk

The safari was getting away, far away, from our normal lives in Minneapolis. No one knew of lefse and lutefisk, except when someone would ask about my books, and it was nice to escape and expand the mind. However, lutefisk came to mind when I ate mopane worms.

Mopane worms contain higher protein than other sources such as chicken and milk. In rural areas, worms are an affordable supplement for protein. Still, it is a worm, a fairly big, juicy worm that is fried with butter and tomatoes and served for dinner.

Mopane worms are an excellent source of protein.

Many people in our group politely declined, but Jane and I said sure, we’ll each try one mopane worm. After all, we had eaten lutefisk and lived to tell about it. Because of that, I felt my companions were at a disadvantage and perhaps secretly wished that they had been lutefisk lovers.

When the moment of truth arrived for the happy couple celebrating 50 years of marriage, I volunteered Jane to go first. She did but not quietly. I followed, getting on my knees in the dark hut where women prepared the mopane worms in a skillet over a low stove. Based on my first experience with lutefisk, I knew it was best not to think about it. I popped that critter in my mouth and chased it with a few tomatoes to buffer whatever may come next. The worm was salty and crunchy, which made me wonder about what is crunchy in a worm. I stopped wondering quickly; I didn’t want to know. I swallowed and smiled and headed out of the hut for fresh air and sunshine.

Mopane wasn’t bad, but I’ll take lutefisk any day.

My mopane moment.
Jane and I celebrated eating mopane worms — and 50 years of marriage — by having our faces painted before going to dinner.
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Lutefisk Limerick Contest Champ

Peter Holbrook, the Lutefisk Limerick Contest Winner.

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!

First prize in the Lutefisk Limerick Contest is this first of its kind Glass-Honey Locust rolling pin.

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!

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3rd Annual Lefse Limerick Contest

Winner of the Lutefisk Limerick Contest wins this first in my line Glass-Honey Locust Rolling Pin.

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:

The Santa Red Bowl for mixing lefse dough.
The Lefse: An Antidote For Lutefisk t-shirt.
The lefse hat that says it all: Keep On Rolling!

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!

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Marathon Lefse Making Made Easier

Get a cushioned mat that helps ease the strain on your feet and all muscles and joint moving up the body.

Tomorrow I make gobs (a lefse term) of lefse dough that will allow me to make heaps of lefse rounds on Friday. I will gently place these perfect rounds in plastic bags that will be picked up Friday by customers (in blizzard conditions, as it turns out) who often feel the pressure of either showing up for the Christmas gathering with lefse or don’t show up at all. Well, that’s overstating it, but these folks are on a mission, to be sure. Still, I feel the pressure to make their holiday lefse experience a great one, so I will be up very early Friday, along with the few newspaper carriers left, and rolling all day just to fill my orders.

I love it, by the way. This is game time!!

Now is the time for all good lefse makers to rise up and roll out the lefse. Maybe you have had your day-long lefse fest, or maybe your marathon awaits. Either way, here are four tips to help ensure that you can go the distance.

  • Get a standing mat. I got my anti-fatigue mat from Uline, and it is a blessing not only while making lefse but also when doing the dishes afterward.
  • Wear graduated compression socks. That’s why I sell socks, which I call Go Long Lefse Socks.
  • Add a Lazy Susan under your rolling board. Get Lazy Susan hardware at a hardware store and install it under your pastry board. Or order the Keep On Rolling Pastry Board — Lazy Susan from me. I use one because someone said I should try the Lazy Susan. I did and find I bend and twist much less than with a stationary board.
  • Get the Blue Pastry Board Cover. The blue cover not only makes it easier to avoid sticking, but you also use less flour when rolling lefse, which means you have less of a mess to clean up.

I know these tips are self serving, but I would not make these products unless they work in making lefse-making work easier.

In addition to the tips, during your long lefse making sessions, schedule breaks at least every 1.5 hours. Put your feet up and close your eyes for a few minutes. Have a cuppa tea. Call a friend. I also sit between every round and pump my legs in the air as I make the dough patty that becomes the next round. Finally, I like to watch some TV and listen to some radio. But I also relax into the quiet, especially early in the morning, that leads me into a lefse-rolling meditation. In this rolling zone, I solve all problems and think big thoughts. Pretty cool!

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Minot Mamas Keep On Rolling!

This family from Minot, North Dakota—led by Marilyn Lucy (standing far right) and Lanae LaBonte (standing second from left)—rallied around the Keep On Rolling apron — big time!

At the Norsk Hostfest last fall, I had the pleasure of visiting again with lefse friends Marilyn Lucy (standing far right above) and her sister Lanae LaBonte (standing second from left). I had not seen them since the pandemic started, but they are easy to talk with and time passed quickly. They are skilled at talking and shopping, I must say, and didn’t pull any punches when it came to purchasing a number of products, especially my new Keep On Rolling! aprons. I will let Marilyn and Lanae tell the story of how the aprons united the family at the holidays.

Our story started at the end of the Hostfest in Minot, 2022. We were still shopping Saturday as
the booths were closing. At Gary and Jane Legwold’s lefse booth, we fell in love with the
Keep on Rolling! Aprons. We purchased what they had left and had names embroidered for us
(Marilyn and Lanae) and Marilyn’s three daughters, Shanna, Taina and Kalli. We ordered more
and gave them to granddaughters and daughters-in-laws. Finally, we included the grandpas and
sons, all aprons personalized with embroidered names.

A grand total of 19 aprons!

A picture was taken at Thanksgiving of Marilyn’s family with their aprons. Lanae’s family, (sons
Donn and Robb, daughter-in-law Laura, grand-daughter Vaida and Grandpa Bob) will take
a picture with the aprons at Christmas.

Our grandparents came from Norway and Sweden. Our grandmother, Elydia Blomquist
Rystedt, taught our mother, Evelyn Rystedt Tande, the art of lefse making along with all things
Scandinavian. Evelyn passed this art to her daughters, Marilyn and Lanae. Her son, Gary, was
an excellent sampler! When Gary’s children were married, they were gifted lefse-making kits
and grills from aunts Marilyn and Lanae.

All three families including sons, daughters-in-law, daughters and sons-in-law are practicing
perfecting this art. We will keep on rolling!

Lanae LaBonte and Marilyn Lucy

I love this simple-yet-moving story. The 19 aprons are impressive, but even more impressive is how the ongoing quest of “perfecting this art” of making lefse, as Marilyn and Lanae put it, brings their family together in ways much deeper than what shows in their aprons. Well done! I have no doubt you all will keep on rolling!

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Thanks Giving: 8 Who Made a Difference

I woke up this morning in tears. I want to say the good kind, but all tears are good. I once heard that your tears are recorded in heaven.

This morning, my tears were in gratitude.

This is a thanks giving, and I am limiting my thanks giving to lefse. See, gratitude is like potato chips. You can’t eat just one chip no more than you can thank just one person who helped you along the way. You start saying thanks and you can’t stop. Like Scrooge on Christmas morn, you end up throwing open a window and shouting to the streets about everything from the marvels of one little snowflake to the miracles of modern plumbing. There is so much to life!

So, I’m focusing my thanks giving on lefse and eight people who are foundational to my lefse life.

Jane Legwold

Jane Legwold

This is where the tears really flow. She is there at my side throughout our days and our nights, and at the markets selling All Things Lefse while I roll lefse rounds. I am grateful that she enjoys talking lefse with customers, and soldiers through the hard work of setting up and tearing down our booth space. But more than that, for being my foundation and life partner. Jane has seen my worst lefse and my best, and the best is yet to be. On December 30th, we will celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary. This is what I wrote on the inside of the ring I gave her 50 years ago: “See you tomorrow, Hon…”

Jennie Legwold

Jennie Legwold

Grandma introduced me to lefse. Sadly, I never saw her make it, but lefse was always on the table when I traveled as a boy from Illinois, where I grew up, to Peterson, Minnesota, where she lived. Decades went by when I did not have lefse, but the fascinating look and feel and taste of lefse stayed with me until my middle age, when lefse called me home. The equation was lefse = Grandma. Everybody loves lefse, and everybody loved Grandma. What I loved most was her ability to accept others and herself, although if I were to have asked her about self-acceptance she would have simply chuckled. She was quiet, but not in a stern, judgmental way, and strong in a soft way that made you put down the pretenses and smile. When she served “a little lunch” that always included lefse, there was a green light to talk openly. She was what Jane Austin described when she wrote, ”Emma felt that she could not now show greater kindness than in listening.” I saw her in my dad, Conrad Legwold. And as I age, I see her in me.

Linda Bengtson

Linda Bengtson

I taught myself to make lefse and quit because the stuff was soooo tough. Terrible! I called it potato jerky. A year after I quit Linda, spouse to my cousin Denny Bengtson, gave me lefse for Christmas. It was wonderful. I asked how she pulled off this miracle of making good lefse. She gave me lots of tips, but I had done them all. Finally, she asked what kind of pastry cloth I used. I said, “What’s a pastry cloth?” That was the turning point. She gave me her recipe, which I have modified only slightly, and with a pastry cloth I began making good lefse. And when I brought my lefse to family gatherings, Linda would heap praise on me — loudly, so all could hear. I used every Norwegian deflection I could think of to get her to cool it, but she was not deterred. After hearing these praises year after year, I finally learned to just sit there and take it. Linda has passed on, but it is my turn to heap praise on her. She was my mentor, and I loved her. I would not be a lefse maker without her. I cannot imagine not being a lefse maker. Thanks, Linda.

Merlin Hoiness

Merlin Hoiness standing by an early lefse roller he invented. His mother-in-law gave it a thumbs-down.

Merlin was Mr. Lefse long before I came on the scene. He was a grocer who, along with wife, Zola, did lefse demos in Minnesota and Wisconsin while starting Norsland Kitchens, a lefse factory in Harmony, Minnesota, in 1981. The factory featured lefse rolling machines invented by Jim Humble. These machines are marvels and are still rolling at Norsland Lefse, the successor to Norsland Kitchens and located in Rushford, Minnesota. Merlin taught me that you must market lefse, get out with lefse lovers and understand their passion for this food. He wrote a small book called 91 Ways to Serve Lefse and was a hoot to interview. He said in my first lefse book, The Last Word on Lefse, that as a grocer he “could never keep people satisfied when it came to lefse. This was before factories were making much lefse. … In my store, I would use the lefse made by ladies in town and on the farms. I was actually bootlegging lefse, you see. The ladies weren’t checked out by the public health inspector. He’d come into the store and ask who made my lefse. Then he’d have to take it off the shelf and throw it in the garbage.”

Bitten Norvoll

Bitten Norvoll making lefse in her basement to confine the mess from flour dust.

In 1950, Bitten came to Minnesota from Norway, where she was born. She made lefse for me from her south Minneapolis home and was the embodiment that lefse is a Norwegian food. As I ate her lefse, her husband Torbjorn explained why lefse was so important to Norwegian-Americans. He said that with early emigrants “whenever they left, it was goodbye forever. So they would cling to anything—old diets, memories—anything that reminded them of the old country.”

Bitten added that for years you couldn’t buy lefse in stores, so to have lefse you had to make it yourself. Going through the motions of making lefse evokes far more memories, she said, than simply plunking down the cash in a store for a lefse package.

John Glesne

John Glesne, my man!

When I first started making lefse, it was a bit intimidating that all real lefse makers seemed to be women. Would I ever fit in? John’s answer, by example, was an emphatic yes. Part of my interview with him at his home in Decorah, Iowa, was this offer: “Hey, wanna beer?” Using a wedge, he also pitched a golf ball into a bucket in his living room after he made lefse. He was an easy-going good guy and keenly interested in not just making lefse but in making good lefse. That’s what I wanted to be, and John showed the way.

Jean Olson

Jean Olson

In my second lefse book, Keep On Rolling!, I interviewed Jean in her home in Deerwood, Minnesota, where she is known as the Queen of Lefse. (I’ve met lots of lefse queens, by the way, and a few lefse kings. And they all were beginners making the same mistakes we all make. So keep on rolling!)

Jean won the National Lefse Cook-off in 2005, an annual event that’s part of the Potato Days Festival in Barnesville, Minnesota. She won the contest rolling with dough that had not been cooled overnight or for hours in a refrigerator, which is customary, but was but a bit above room temperature. “I used to do that [roll cooled dough] but I didn’t like the way the potatoes rolled when cold,” she said. “Several years ago before my mother-in-law, Edith Olson, passed away, we both changed our minds on how cold potatoes needed to be.”

I now roll with room-temperature dough, thanks to Jean. Thanks, Jean, for your example of being willing to change your mind and trying something that can make lefse-making better.

Jean’s story leads into this tip: Do not to be a lefse snob. I have always learned from every lefse maker I’ve met. And I have always believed that there are many ways to make lefse, and not one is the best. As long as you are happy making lefse, go for it using the ways and recipe that are in your family or that you have found to be best for you.

Rev. Charles Colberg

Can switching to King Arthur Flour make much of a difference with lefse?

I don’t have a photo of Charles, so a photo of King Arthur Flour is going to have to do. Because he approached me as I rolled lefse at a market and started talking up this King Arthur Flour. I had never heard of it and was pretty happy with the flour I used, which was the cheapest I could find. He pushed me to give it a try because it would do wonders for my lefse.

I thought it was going to be hard to find, but I found it at Target — at twice the cost of most other flours. “Oh, what the heck,” I said, “there is no price on great lefse.” I bought it and, well, bottom line is I will never go back. The lefse dough is velvety-smooth, and the 11.7% protein helps keep the edges on my rounds together, so that I can actually roll a round round. And being able to roll a round round is a huge draw at markets and is hugely satisfying to the perfectionist perched on my shoulder. So, thanks, Charles, for that tip!

So these are my Great Eight who have helped me make better lefse. Thanks to you!

Here’s an idea: On this Thanksgiving, each of us thank those lefse makers who have helped us along the way.

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6 Reasons to Make Really Good Lefse

Jennifer Johnson, left, and Helen Priestly were my first lefse students of 2022. They head into the holiday season confident they can make really good lefse.

Many — many — students in my lefse classes come to class haunted by bad lefse-making experiences. They tell scary tales of being smacked on the hand when they speared a round with a turning stick. They confess to feeling the long, spooky shadow of a mother or grandmother who made perfect lefse and being intimidated when they rolled crappy rounds. Or they tried and quit in shame, putting on a brave face that it wasn’t meant to be … but always wishing they, too, could make really good lefse.

So I teach them, and I enjoy sending them off with loads of confidence, not to mention loads of their own fresh lefse.

Whatever bad past you’ve had with lefse, perhaps it’s time to look forward to your good lefse future. Not someone else’s good lefse, but yours. Here are six really good reasons to make really good lefse:

  1. You are cool to your grandkids. You may be old to them, but you’re not some fuddy-duddy who is a wall flower at family events. You, the lefse maker, are the star!
  2. You are in demand at holidays — big time! Not only does your phone ring as neighbors want lefse, but when food assignments are handed out for holiday dinners, you are not an afterthought, relegated to bringing boring buns year after year. Uh-uh. You are at the top of the list cuz you make really good lefse.
  3. Lefse shortens long winters. When you’re bored and blue with short, gray days of snow, snow, snow and long dark nights of cold, cold, cold, bring out the grill and roll lefse. Better yet, do it with friends.
  4. You are never alone. With lefse making, you are immersed in memories of fantastic lefse-making times with family and friends. Plus, when you start making really good lefse, the universe senses this and the world will beat a path to your door. As I wrote in The Last Word on Lefse, “Never alone, and seldom sad, the life of a lefse maker isn’t so bad.”
  5. Tradition. Many people don’t have traditions at the holidays. Lefse makers do, and it’s a long and grand tradition. Food is the foundation of tradition, and your interest in making really good lefse will lead you to a lifelong quest for finding out about your history and culture.
  6. You become royalty. Yes, I am the Lefse King, but I know a lot of Lefse Queens and a few Lefse Kings. There is not just one Lefse King, and my goal is to coach up students to the point where they feel they have a shot at becoming a Lefse King in their own land. Like me, you may not be wild about classism and elitism and all that, but that doesn’t apply in the very democratic Lefse Land where everyone has a chance to become a Lefse Queen or Lefse King. Just make really good lefse.

It’s time. Time to pull out your lefse-making stuff and start rolling the way you’ve been taught. And if you have not been taught and want to learn to make really good lefse, I’m here!

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2 Lefse Lessons From Pastry Board Covers

Jennifer Johnson, left, and Helen Priestly left my lefse class — the first of 2022 — happy and holding pretty dang good lefse they made.

My lefse classes have begun, and my first was with Jennifer Johnson and Helen Priestly, shown above. They were naturals from the get-go but appreciated some tips I offered, and each left with a bag of their own lefse. In the class we discussed what the pastry board cover can teach you, and here are two lessons:

Stop the Sticking

What’s the biggest problem with making lefse? Sticking. Your dough sticks to the surface on which you’re rolling, and once you have a sticking spot, that spot continues to be a problem to the point where it wrecks round after round. The solution is my Blue Pastry Board Cover, which fits only on big boards that are 23 to 24 inches in diameter.

In your rapture of rolling good lefse, you may not notice a developing sticky spot. This is especially true when your pastry board cover is white. The lack of white flour that defines a sticky spot is not readily apparent on a white pastry board cover. But it is on a Blue Pastry Board Cover, as you see in the photo below. That dark blue center of the board is a spot that needs flour or you’ll have sticking. So roll elsewhere on the big board or re-flour that spot. BTW, you save flour and reduce kitchen mess with the blue cover because you can apply flour only to the dark spots and not the entire board.

Sticking is a common problem for lefse makers. The Blue Pastry Board Cover is the solution.

Roll It Read-Thru Thin

A question that always comes up in class is: “How thin do I roll my lefse?” When I was learning, the response was: “If you can read a newspaper beneath your round, you’re done.” Well, it’s cumbersome to slip a newspaper under each round, plus newspapers are getting harder and harder to find. But if you use the Blue Pastry Board Cover and start seeing blue coming through your round, you’ve got it thin enough. Or if you use the familiar Bethany white pastry board cover that fits Bethany’s 19-inch board only, you are in luck. Bethany marks the board in red lines and lettering, and you know your rounds are thin enough when you can read the red print under your round.

How thin should I roll my lefse round? Stop rolling when you can read the print on your pastry board cover.

To sum it up, avoid sticking and minimize your flour mess by using the Blue Pastry Board Cover. And roll your rounds real thin by rolling until you can see the blue or read the red print through your beautiful round. Keep on rolling!

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Three Lefse Grill Tune-up Tips

These probe controls for the lefse grill can burn out with long use.

I have four lefse grills that I use for my lefse classes and for market demonstrations, but only one was reliable … usually. The others were iffy in providing heat consistent enough for a productive lefse-making session. With the pandemic, I did my lessons using Zoom or had very small classes, which meant I could get by with one grill. I expect larger classes this year, so I will need to use more than one grill. This means tuning up my grills or replacing them.

My grandson Zo had a baseball tournament last summer at the Field of Dreams complex in Dyersville, Iowa. This is close to Cresco, Iowa, where the Bethany Housewares lefse grill assembly plant is. I called Bethany owner Roxy Svoboda (featured in Keep On Rolling!) and asked if she would tune up my grills when I drove home from the tournament. She said sure and even came to the plant on a Sunday to check out the grills.

Roxie fixed all four and my cost was about the same as buying one new grill. She said the grill itself will last for decades, but the parts in the electrical unit need care. Here are three tips:

  • Rub the prongs with steel wool. The two prongs inside the shield attached to the grill can get corroded from age and flour dust. This corrosion can mess up the connection to the replacement probe control that holds the temperature-control dial, and getting heat adequate for grilling can be problematic. Corrosion can lead to a loose connection and burning out the probe control (see image above). So shine the prongs with a fine steel wool as needed to restore optimum connection.
  • Use two replacement probe controls. The manual of the grill states that if your lefse-making session lasts more than 1.5 hours, you should switch out the replacement probe control with a second one. Temperatures near or at 500 degrees Fahrenheit over time are hard on the plastic of the probe control, so use a second one to protect this vital unit from burning out.
Have a second replacement probe control, and alternate them every 1.5 hours of use during your long lefse-making sessions.
  • Do not unplug your replacement probe control from the grill. I always used to pull the replacement probe control from the grill after making lefse. But I noticed that unplugging became easier and easier over time, which meant that the electrical connection between the grill and probe control was getting looser and looser. And this was reducing the heat generated on the grill. Now, I leave the probe control alone and store the cooled grill with probe control firmly connected. A new probe control should not insert easily into the grill; a firm push is needed and you know that the connection is tight. Repeatedly pulling the probe out and pushing it back in only loosens the connection, so leave the probe control connected to the grill when you are done.
Leave your replacement probe control connected to the grill after making lefse. Don’t pull the probe control out but store the cooled grill and probe control connected.
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4 Emotional Lefse (and Lutefisk) Moments

Chuck Voigt, left, and I hold lefse rolling pins I made from ash and walnut trees that blew down on his Illinois farm. We were roommates at the University of Illinois and are fellow singers.

Memories and emotions are at the ready with lefse. It connects us with Grandma when Grandma is gone, and lefse causes us to rally and keep on rolling so eager grandkids can get in on this grand old tradition.

I’ve experienced three memorable and emotional lefse moments recently, and even one lutefisk moment.

The first was last weekend when I traveled to Bonfield, Illinois, to deliver to Chuck Voigt two rolling pins I made. Chuck and I were roommates when we attended the University of Illinois, Urbana, and we were pretty dang good singers in a campus group call The Young Illini. A derecho roared through his area two years ago and blew down trees. He asked if I wanted some walnut and ash for turning rolling pins, and I said sure. The wood needed time to dry, so I could not produce the pins last year. Plus, I needed time to improve my woodturning skills, so waiting until this spring worked just fine.

The pins I presented were beautiful. That’s how woodturning goes; you listen to the wood, uncover its art and then let it speak for itself. Where there were small cracks, I put in an inlay as a decorative filling. But the overriding beauty was in the moment. Old friends and old wood from a family farm converted into functional pieces of art that will last at least as long as our friendship has. We are both old enough to know that you don’t know what the future holds, that you take in these moments and savor them. For years and years, Chuck and I communicated once a year or so, but with the creation of these rolling pins, we were back and forth more in the last two years than in all the years since college. That is a good thing, to not let friends drift off and to keep friendships fresh. Chuck and I are going to keep on rolling!

Rolling pin with walnut barrel and ash handles. The wood was too beautiful to add traditional lefse rolling pin grooves, so it became a general rolling pin.
Traditional lefse rolling pin with ash barrel and walnut handles.

The second memorable moment was a few weeks ago when a man who has been bed-ridden for the last year and a half with Guillain-Barre Syndrome contacted me, wanting fresh lefse. It was a joy to make six rounds and then later 12 more so that his friend could pick up the orders. Lefse stays with you throughout life. You may leave it for one reason or another for a while, but it won’t leave you. I once made lefse at a nursing home, and a man started crying as he chewed a buttered round. He said he hadn’t had lefse in 75 years. Oh, the memories of that man and this man with Guillain-Barre Syndrome. That’s the power of lefse.

Lutefisk lip balm, always a hit!

The third memorable moment was a lutefisk moment last Christmastime. A woman wrote thanking me for providing Lutefisk Lip Balm, which is actually vanilla bean flavored. But it’s the label that sells this product, especially with the description of lutefisk at the side:”The Cod That Passes All Understanding”.

The woman said this about the Lutefisk Lip Balm. “My mom was in hospice at Christmas,” she wrote, “and it was the gift that generated the biggest smile! My mom just passed two weeks ago … “

The final moving moment was at the beginning of this month at Cragun’s Resort near Brainerd, Minnesota. I was rolling lefse and selling my stuff at the Sons of Norway District 1 Convention. I sold fresh lefse throughout the day, and fellow exhibitor, author and artist Sven Lindauer (The Art & Craft of Ancient Scandinavia), was primed for lefse at the end of a long day and asked that I save him two bags (six rounds).

He collected his two bags, and as I started to pack up, a dutiful delegate named Oscar entered the exhibitor’s room seriously seeking lefse. He was one of the delegates who actually attended the meetings he was supposed to, and only now had time to search for his lefse.

He was crushed when I said I was out, that my last two bags were just snapped up. The expression on Oscar’s face did not escape the eye of artist Sven. That’s what artists do, notice those things and paint them. (Sven mentioned that he was going to paint Oscar’s expression.)

Big-hearted Sven, who had been anticipating lefse all day and saying so many times, piped up and said that he would give Oscar one of his bags. Oh, the smile on Oscar’s face was actually noticeable, which is saying a lot for a Norwegian! Sven made Oscar’s day (week? month?) as well as mine. Sven knew the power of lefse, and we all knew the power of his sacrifice. Here’s to Sven … Saint Sven, Bringer of Norwegian Smiles and Other Miracles!

Author Sven Lindauer made the supreme sacrifice just to make a crushed, lefse-less Norwegian’s day. For that, he’s an early frontrunner for Lefse Person of the Year!