Of course, if your day is dominated by don’ts, don’t read on. That is, if you don’t like chocolate and butter and bananas and pecans — and if you don’t want to adulterate your lefse with anything but the standard butter and sugar — then stop right here. No need to check out this recipe for making a Super Bowl party lefse wrap that will be snapped up before the New England Patriots or Los Angeles Rams score a point.
On the other hand, if you do like fudge — homemade fudge — and if you do like bringing a bit of drooling adventure to Lefseland, then by all means do make The Amen Lefse Wrap and bring it to Sunday’s party. Or … make it and eat all by yourself.
The Amen Lefse Wrap
Chocolate-banana lefse wrap
2 ounces unsweetened chocolate
4 tablespoons butter
¾ cup sugar
¼ cup cocoa powder
½ cup cream
6 ripe bananas
½ cup chopped pecans
To prepare fudge sauce: Melt chocolate and butter in a double
boiler. Stir in sugar, cocoa, and cream. Cook over low heat for 15 to 20
minutes, stirring occasionally until smooth. Set aside.
Slice bananas and spread in a line on the diameter of 4 lefse
rounds. Drizzle generously with fudge sauce, and sprinkle with pecans. Roll
The NFC and AFC Championship games this
weekend and the Super Bowl game February 3rd mean only one thing:
party time! All good. So here’s what you can bring for food other than the same
old same old bowl of chili or platter of chips and dip:
I can guarantee your lefse wraps will be
the talk of the table because:
Everyone loves a tasty wrap. It’s fun finger food, and you don’t fill up on a lot of carbs — just the savory combinations inside.
A lefse wrap is the tastiest of all wraps. Most other types of wraps have wrappings with no flavor — zilch. But velvety, toasty, potato-y lefse adds to the texture and the ensemble of flavors. Plus, lefse is pretty with its brown spots and freckles against a golden background. Just make sure you roll your lefse thicker than normal so the rounds are strong enough to hold the goodies within.
12 ounces peeled, deveined, cooked shrimp (recommend 21 to
25 count shrimp, each cut in two or three pieces, for 4 rounds of lefse)
1/4 cup chopped parsley
Spread softened cream cheese on 4 rounds of lefse. Spread
cocktail sauce over cream cheese. Sprinkle shrimp pieces all over cocktail
sauce. Sprinkle parsley over all. Roll up lefse, and cut into pinwheels.
Well, not quite giving them away … but I’m giving them to the first 15 readers who send me a lefse or lutefisk joke. If the joke is good — and just about any lefse or lutefisk joke is good (except some lutefisk jokes) — and you are among the first 15 who send in a good joke, you’ll get a free lefse calendar full of photos, illustrations, lefse quotes, lefse-making tips, and humor.
Two Green Bay Packers fans we’re seated next to a Minnesota
Vikings fan at a lutefisk dinner. The Vikings fan must have had a problem
because he kept excusing himself to go to the bathroom.
The Packers fans, being the prankish sort, spit on the
Vikings fans lutefisk when he went to the bathroom. He returned, took a bite of
lutefisk, and did not seem to notice the spit.
The next time the Vikings fan left the table, the Packers
fans asked him to please return with two beers. Again, the Packers fans spit on
the Vikings fan’s lutefisk.
The Vikings fan returned with two foamy glasses of beer, which the Packers fans drank with great satisfaction. The Vikings fan sat down and took another bite of lutefisk. With a look of disgust, he said, ”How long must this go on? Why can’t we rivals live in peace? What causes Packers and Vikings fans to stoop to such lowliness that we spit on each other’s lutefisk and pee in each other’s beers?”
In summary, be among the first 15 to send your lefse or lutefisk jokes to email@example.com.
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.
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
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.
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.
Gary’s note: Last week, I was invited to what can only be described as a “lefsepalooza.” Typically, I’m invited to such events as a speaker or an author signing books, but to this one in Waconia, Minnesota, I went as a “civilian” lefse roller. All I had to do was make a double batch of dough, show up with some lefse-making equipment, and roll and roll and keep on rolling.
It was the funnest lefse event I’ve ever taken part in. I
pause when I write this because lefse fests are all fun. But this one was
special because it was all men, 30-some guys mostly 60-something in age. It was
in a workshop/barn, and, predictably, there was the Vikings game on TV, plenty
of beer, and a couple of aquavit breaks. These skol breaks included announcements,
“humor,” and a goofy ceremony that included eye contact (tough for
Scandinavians) with all other skollers before swallowing a mouthful of aquavit.
The latrine was outside by the tractor (at least it was for me).
We had fun, but it was clear we were there, first and
foremost, to make lefse and Swedish sausage for a good cause, which organizer
Ross Hanson explains below. One table of workers mixed flour with dough and
made ready-to-roll lefse pucks that were delivered to eight rolling stations
next to the table of eight grills. You would call it a brawny, elbows-flying,
sweat-beads-on-the-brow style of rolling that produced big, round, and
see-through-thin lefse (usually) — and lots of it!
Well done, men! Merry Christmas, and see you next year!
Ross Hanson writes:
The making and selling of lefse and Swedish sausage was
introduced in the early to mid-eighties as part of the Faith Lutheran Church
Lucia festival in Waconia, Minnesota. (Let’s pick 1985 and see if anyone
disputes the date.) This was a Christmas event held at Faith on a Saturday
morning in December. The event was billed as a gift to the community and
offered a Julebord of Scandinavian treats and coffee. Lefse was made at
church during the event. The charter rollers were Faith members Scott
Ellingson, Don Sommers, and John Jacobson. Their output was probably
around three to four dozen sheets.
The sausage was also made by members but in the home of Keith
Sjodin a day or two prior to the event. The charter sausage stuffers were
Keith Sjodin, Gary Burau, Dave DeGrote, and Russ Heagle. The sausage
recipe is an old family recipe from Mary Sjodin’s mom. Early records show
their output was around 50 pounds.
The Lucia festival did not survive the test of time, but the demand for lefse and sausage prevailed. Today around 30 Lefse and Sausage guys convene on an evening in early December at my “barn” and produce around 700 sheets of lefse and 150 pounds of sausage.
The fellas cover all the expenses, and 100% of the sales goes to the Pastor’s Discretionary Fund at Faith Lutheran. The fund is an important ministry that enables our pastors to address the many times they come across someone who has hit a “speed bump” and needs just a little help to get back on track.
The Lefse and Sausage event offers an evening of camaraderie as well as good-natured teasing about the quality of the products. Toward the end of the evening, a little taste of heaven occurs when a chunk of the fried Swedish sausage is wrapped in a warm piece of lefse and eaten with a communal “Skol!” of aquavit. Aquavit is a Scandinavian beverage which literally translates to “water of life” — although many would argue that it actually means lighter fluid.
I was desperately trying to find somewhere to purchase lefse for Thanksgiving. I’m a Scandinavian who lives in Windsor, California, and I haven’t made lefse since I was in my teens. Back then, I did the flipping part, and my mother, Ruth (Kvaal) Cornell, prepared the dough and rolled. My mother is gone now. For the last few years I had a wonderful woman here in the wine country of California named Lorraine Larson who ran a lefse business out of her home. We bought dozens of lefse from her over the years. Lorraine is gone also. So what to do?
I came across The Lefse King online and had hopes of having some lefse shipped from my birthplace of Minneapolis. But, alas, Gary Legwold makes lefse for local pickup only. This forced me to do the unimaginable: attempt to make my own lefse — by myself!
I pulled out a cookbook from the good women of Pelican Rapids, Minnesota, and gave it my best.
It was a lot of work, but I’m delighted to say that for my first try, the 20 rounds turned out pretty darn good! At least my family enjoyed them. I thought my lefse seemed heavy, but my daughter Britt Bowden put her hand underneath and said, “No way! I can see my hand through it!” So I guess I rolled it thin enough. And my son in law Mike Bowden loved making Norwegian burritos with the leftover turkey and stuffing.
That’s the good news. But now the family is looking forward to another batch for Christmas! My other daughter Kirsta and son Jens don’t live close. They’re in southern California. They were drooling over my photos. Cruel in their minds that they couldn’t have some. So I’ll be taking my lefse-making equipment on the road so they can have some around the first of the year.
Gary’s note: Pastor Dan is one of my favorite people for two reasons. First, he oozes faith. Yet as a pastor, he doesn’t shame others who are searching for faith. He has it, practices it, and humbly and with humor leads others to it. Second, he is the Holy Roller who, wearing a “Lefse King” apron, makes mounds of beautiful lefse every year as part of his church’s Lefse Ministry. This ministry inspires his congregation to make lefse, help the community, and even rebuild Hawk Creek Lutheran Church, which burned down in 2016. The following is Pastor Dan’s reflection on lefse and life in the rebuilt Hawk Creek, which opened last spring.
Some people enjoy lefse for its flavor. You might say it is the ultimate comfort food: soft, easy to digest, with no aftertaste (unless prepared as a Norwegian taco with lutefisk), usually sweetened with white or brown sugar, and infinitely adaptable to every taste.
Some people enjoy lefse simply for its nostalgic ability to remind us of a bygone era when our Norwegian ancestors braved the dangers and uncertainties of crossing the Atlantic and brought the flavors and traditions of the homeland to the new world. We can envision trunks full of the dried lefse (hard lefse) loaded onto steamer ships and providing food to hungry travelers. In its dried form, it kept well and could easily be reconstituted with a little water. Once pioneers settled on their homesteads, it became a delicacy for holiday meals.
At Hawk Creek and Rock Valle Lutheran Churches near Sacred Heart, Minnesota, many of our members trace their ancestry to Norwegian roots. And the delights lefse delivers to our palates, we can’t argue with that! But as I state in my Lefse Catechism: “There’s more to lefse than meets the stomach. Hidden within these orbs of tantalizing and tempting tastes is a message greater than any other — a message of God’s great love toward humanity, a message of salvation, a message of God’s answers for a broken humanity.”
Church Burning and Rebuilding
It’s that message that has empowered us the two difficult years from the time the beloved church building burned down from a lightning strike until recently when we dedicated our new building to God. It is true that when tragedy strikes, we always try to find meaning in it. We often hear, “There’s a reason for everything.” And you might say that as God’s people, we are always seeking signs of God’s presence. We found plenty of those signs. We never did claim Ichabod as our name (look it up). God is present powerfully to direct, lead, and lure us into God’s most preferred future. Our church’s Lefse Ministry is one expression of that quest. In lefse, we have found the message of God’s love. In lefse, we have discovered another reason to move on.
The unanimous decision to rebuild the sanctuary was radical in that it defied the notion that rural churches are dying. In recent weeks two churches in our Southwestern Minnesota Synod have closed. Died? No. Their mission is not over. It has changed. The headquarters for their members may have changed, but the Kingdom work goes on. With our new and beautiful building made possible by God, we are better equipped for the ongoing mission God has called us to. Our sorrow has turned to joy. Hope has not left us. Our prayer is that, united and strengthened through our trials, we will be a more faithful and energized force for carrying out God’s mission.
Not About Scarcity
When Gary Legwold — a very worthy competitor for the title “Lefse King” — wrote Keep on Rolling! it was a great affirmation, a tribute to the difference a small country church can make. How can we say thanks for the recognition he has brought to the unique mission God has given us? The title Gary gave to his chapter on our church’s Lefse Ministry is called “The Holy Roller” (me), but it should have been plural since this humble servant is but a small part. As God is creating great waves for us to surf, I am simply hanging on for the ride.
Let me repeat: We all look for signs of God’s presence in our lives. Remember Jesus’ stories about pearls, seed, farming, baking, etc? For us in the Lefse Ministry, the signs of God’s presence are not like flavorings on a lefse — be they sugar, cinnamon, boysenberry jam, etc. The signs are the substance, the lefse itself. God is not a flavoring we add to life once a week to make it easier or tastier. It is the foundation to which we add the many flavorings that life gives.
The story of Hawk Creek and its fire and rebuilding is a testimony to God’s faithfulness and grace, given in “good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over.” It is a sign that God is not about scarcity but about abundance of blessing. Take it from us. We’ve lived through it. And by God’s grace, we pray that we can be faithful witnesses into God’s future. And lefse’s lessons will be a part of that journey.
“In lefse, we have discovered another reason to move on.”
As a child, I visited Grandma Liz in Valley City, North Dakota, and then later at a hobby farm in Michigan, North Dakota. There was always lefse and kumps, also known as klub or potet klub.
I moved out East for a government job, and I missed the joyous events and the sad ones, especially when Dad passed in 1995 and then Grandma Liz a few years later. At the time, I realized how much I missed visiting her with my Dad on the farm.
As time went on, to help remember those visits and to pay tribute to her, I set out to learn to make lefse and kumps.
7 Up Lefse
When researching lefse making, I came across a recipe for 7 Up lefse. I thought, “No way! That’s not how Grandma used to make it.” So I filed away the recipe and learned to make lefse the way Grandma made it.
I’ve since made traditional lefse, but I’ve also made 7 Up lefse a couple of times. I must say, it‘s not bad at all!
The last time I made 7 Up lefse, it was after returning from the 2018 Norsk Hostfest in Minot, North Dakota. I wanted to try the 7 Up lefse recipe again and try it out using my new heirloom lefse rolling pin (pictured below) I purchased from Gary Legwold in the Author’s Corner of Helsinki Hall.
Here is the recipe I use for 7 Up lefse:
5 cups instant potatoes
1 teaspoon salt
½ cup sugar
10 oz. cold 7 Up
1 cup cold evaporated milk
½ cup vegetable oil
2 ¼ cups cold water
2 cups flour
Mix dry ingredients except for flour.
Add liquids and stir.
Add flour and stir with spoon until dough is crumbly.
Knead with your hands.
Make into balls the size of golf balls.
Roll thin and grill at 450 degrees F.
Makes 32 lefse.
I cooled the dough for a half hour or so and then sped up cooling by putting the dough in the freezer and then back to the fridge.
Anyway, give 7 Up lefse a try, for fun and just to say you’ve had it. You, like me, may find that it’s … not bad at all!
Gary’s note: I first met Betty at this year’s National Lefse Cook-off, which is part of Potato Days in Barnesville, Minnesota. Betty was a contestant who, while rolling round after round, said in a matter-of-fact way that folks in Arlington, Minnesota, “didn’t know what lefse was until I came to town.” Pretty impressive statement, so I asked Betty to write an explanation. Here it is.
I was raised in a Scandinavian home, a child of a mixed marriage. My father was of Norwegian heritage, and my mother’s roots were in Sweden. Lefse was always part of our Christmas dinners.
I helped make lefse a bit at home, but the recipe was so loose that one never knew how it would turn out. Leftover mashed potatoes and some other ingredients were combined, and then flour was added until it was “right.” Once I found a recipe with actual amounts of potatoes, butter, whipping cream, salt, sugar, and exactly the amount of flour necessary to make it “right,” it was much easier.
The first lefse I made was with leftover mashed potatoes from the restaurant where my husband worked in college. He brought the mashed potatoes home and we made use of them. He rolled the lefse, and I fried and flipped.
When we moved to Arlington, Minnesota, a little German community of 2,000, no one had heard of lefse. My Mother went to the local hardware store to buy a lefse griddle for Christmas. The storeowner’s reaction to her request: “What’s lefse?” The owner looked up the product and found the griddle could be ordered.
47-Year-Old Grill Still Works
So 47 years ago, I got my first griddle in Arlington. It’s had new electrical elements and cords, but I still use it. So I can say, Arlington had never heard of lefse until I moved to town—but now they know.
Lefse making gradually caught on in Arlington. One by one, the ladies of our church learned to make it. First, they learned to flip the rounds, and then make lefse dough from one special recipe. Finally, they learned to roll the rounds thin.
Now lefse making is an annual event. Each fall, we gather on a chosen day and make about 300 lefse, which we freeze three in a package until the Fall Bazaar. People have learned to enjoy it, and we never have trouble selling all the lefse.
Passing on the Tradition
I taught my three children how to make lefse. As my six grandchildren came along, they all learned there would be lefse with butter at every holiday meal. And to teach them how to make lefse, I would travel to each of their homes and bring all the equipment and lefse dough ready to roll. They put on aprons and they, too, started with easy tasks and advanced to rolling the rounds. I’m proud that my children and grandchildren have picked up the tradition of lefse making.
Last January, I was asked to demonstrate lefse making at the Sibley County Historical Society Open House. It was a pleasant afternoon and there were samples for all to taste. A few people made several stops to taste lefse again and again. My picture was in the local paper.
And last August, I entered the National Lefse Cook-off at the Potato Days in Barnesville, Minnesota. Although I didn’t win, it was a fun day and I found that there are many different methods to get a good piece of lefse. Maybe I’ll enter again next year.