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Ricing Made Easy!

Ricing twice is nice for making extra smooth lefse dough, but it can be a lot of work with a big batch of potatoes. Nolan Spencer says you can reduce the work using a grinder.

Gary’s note: I first mash my boiled potatoes and then rice them twice to make sure I eliminate as many little lumps in the dough as possible. Normally, I use a Vintage Potato Ricer because the old ricers work better than the new. But hand ricing is a lotta work when making a lotta dough, so I was curious about the ricing method described below by Nolan Spencer, my lefse pal in Deerwood, Minnesota. I tried it and like this method. Check it out.

Nolan writes:

A few years ago, I saw a gal grinding her boiled spuds on a little KitchenAid grinder. I decided to try this on my big No. 22 grinder when my neighbor Dick Raymond and myself demonstrated lefse making and taught lefse rolling and baking to his sons, daughters-in-laws, and grandkids. We boiled and ground 15 pounds of russets through the 1/8-inch plate. The result was smooth dough with no lumps. 

Two years ago, I bought this little No. 8 grinder (shown above) at Fleet Farm. It’s noisy and I wouldn’t want to make sausage with it, but it grinds taters smoothly and quickly. My friend Millie Priyatel and I put five pounds through it in eight minutes one evening recently. No aching, arthritic wrists, and cleanup was just a quick, hot-water rinse.  

I grind into the blue plastic container, as shown. I flatten out the spuds and pour my cream-butter-salt-sugar mixture over the potatoes. Then I “stomp” the mixture in with a potato masher until a have a nice, smooth, even dough. 

Nolan uses a potato masher to mix lefse dough with flour right before rolling.

I cover with a dishtowel, and into the fridge it goes for the night. The next morning right before rolling and grilling, I add King Arthur Flour (Gary’s recommendation which I’ve passed on to many) to the cooled spud mixture, make dough balls, and start rolling.

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‘Sewer Trout’ and Lefse

A 1956 photo of Verna Spencer with her son, Nolan Spencer, who was in Bagley High School at the time.

I’ve been reading The Last Word On Lutefisk, which brought back memories.

In 1947 my parents, Ed and Verna Spencer, built a small store open seven days a week. They called it the Hi-Way Store, which was located 1 mile west of Bagley, Minnesota, on U.S. Highway 2. This was just after Dad returned from serving in the U.S. Army in the Philippines. He used his GI bill to build the store.

Dad traded guns, rented outboard motors, and sold fishing tackle and minnows (that’s a minnow tank in the picture). He and Mom also ran the grocery. What saved the store was they were able to obtain a 3.2 beer license — the only one in Clearwater County — that allowed beer sales after noon on Sundays.

Mom and Dad sold sill all year and had lutefisk delivered around Thanksgiving and Christmas. Like the sill, the lutefisk came from the Hogstad Fish Co. in Duluth. The fish arrived in short, wooden tubs about the size of a small washtub. My after-school job, at age 9, was to change the water for the skin-on fish.

‘Sewer Trout’

Francis “Fritz” LaRoque, half French and half Ojibwa, and his full-Norske wife Harriet would come in to buy what he called “sewer trout.” I’ve never heard that title used anywhere else.

Dad established a trailer court, as he knew a pipeline was being built from Saskatchewan to Duluth beginning in 1954. The pipeline workers filled the court with 54 trailers. At the end of the pipe-laying season in November, maintenance personnel stayed to “lay up” the equipment (change oil, drain radiators, etc.) before the “drag-up dust” (snow) arrived.

One woman came into our store and saw the tubs of lutefisk. She asked what it was. Mom explained it was a seasonal, cured codfish that Norwegians and Swedes enjoyed during the holidays. “Oh, we like fish,” said the woman, who sounded as if she hailed from in a southern state. “I’d like two pounds.”

When the woman came back the next day, Mom asked how she liked the lutefisk. “Oh, it was great, but it kinda stuck to the fryin’ pan.”

Can you imagine the smell of fried lutefisk in an 8 x 32-foot trailer house?

My First Lefse

My first taste of lefse came in 1948 when Violet and Einar Jallen, Dad’s sister and brother-in-law, lived with us for a winter. Einar had to have lefse! The lefse was baked on the covers of the wood- or coal-burning side of the combination range my folk owned. The wood/coal burner flanked four gas burners.

My job was to split up wooden apple/orange/pear/peach crates to provide fuel for lefse baking. Violet rolled the lefse, and Mom baked it using the sharpened window shade bottom “slat” for a lefse stick. I was hooked on lefse from that point on.

That’s Mom and me in the above picture during the summer of l956. I had one more year at Bagley High School, and then I attended Bemidji State Teachers College. I obtained degrees in biology and chemistry education. I taught one year in Beloit, Wisconsin, and then 35 years in Crosby-Ironton, Minnesota, before I retired in 1997.

I married Sharon Gilbertson, who I miss as she has passed on. We were too poor to buy a lefse grill, so I had a friend cut an 18-inch disc out of ½-inch steel for baking lefse. It went over one of the burners on our gas range and worked just fine.

Combining a bit of lefse and lutefisk, I leave you with this cheer that was a rouser when our high school teams opposed the Greyhounds from Fosston, a town 17 miles west of Bagley. It goes:

Lutefisk and lefse
Gammelost and sill
We can beat those Greyhounds
You doggone right we will!