Category: Lefse

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.

Lefse Catechism

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.

‘What’s Lefse?’

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.

 

Blaine Pederson emailed from Starbuck, Minnesota, last week that Larry Kittelson had died unexpectedly at age 80. When I researched The Last Word on Lefse in 1992, I interviewed six of The Boys of Starbuck, as I called this group nine men who came up with a goofy idea for Starbuck’s first Heritage Days in 1983: Make a lefse so big that it would go into the Norwegian Schibsted Book of Records.

Larry Kittelson could not make it to Gordy’s Cafe for the group interview back in 1992, and I regretted not meeting this baker who had owned the Pastry Shoppe. Larry made the dough for the World’s Largest Lefse — and then reformulated it at the 11th hour when a trial run had failed. Larry was key because, as all lefse makers know, if you don’t have the dough, there ain’t no show.

When I researched Keep On Rolling! in 2017, I was sad to learn that all The Boys had died, all except Larry. So it was a joy to finally meet him and ask him to tell me the story, for old time’s sake, of the making of the nine-foot, eight-inch monster lefse. Here is a portion of the interview, which you can read in entirety in Keep on Rolling!:

Legwold: The dough for this monster lefse was made up of 30 pounds of potatoes, right?

Larry: Right, instant potatoes. Potato Buds. We also used flour (35 pounds), sugar (1 pound), powdered milk (1 pound), and shortening (4 pounds).

Legwold: In the week before the actual event, you had two practice times. Why?

Larry: We didn’t want to look like idiots. We put plywood on a hayrack and covered the plywood with a sheet. The first practice night, we rolled with regular 3-foot-long pins from the bakery. And when we had the lefse all rolled out, we put it on the big roller. When we hauled it over to the grill, it fell apart. We tried it on a second practice night and added puff-paste shortening used to make apple turnovers. It helped hold the dough together. We chilled the dough well, and used more charcoal to get more heat under the grill. So the second practice went better. We didn’t do another trial with the puff-paste shortening in the dough. It was like, “This here will work or else.” I figured it would work on the day of the event, and it worked like a charm.

Legwold: How thin was the world-record lefse?

Larry: About as thin as that napkin there. It wasn’t thick by any means, like the thickness of two normal lefse stacked on top of each other.

Legwold: Did it bubble up on the grill?

Larry: Yep, just like regular lefse.

Legwold: After you accomplished the feat of making the record lefse, why not quit? Why did you try again right away—especially when that second one fell apart?

Larry: I made a batch twice the amount we needed, and I wanted to use up the damn dough. I didn’t want to waste the rest of the batch. That second time didn’t work as good, but luck was on our side with the first one.

Legwold: Other towns like Clarkfield and Madison [both in Minnesota] called for information on how to beat your record, right? What did you say to them?

Larry: An outfit from Washington state also called, and they wanted to try to break our record. I think I even gave them my recipe. I don’t remember. I probably didn’t give them the secret about the puff paste (laughs).

Legwold: Did this event put Starbuck on the map?

Larry: It sure did for a while. It really helped. You know, anything a small town can do nowadays to get itself on the map helps. We had the World’s Largest Lefse and Heritage Days in 1983, and Lefse Dagen started in 1987. That record lefse brings a lot of people to town. It gives us some bragging rights.

Larry, you were a fine man, a civic leader, and a good baker who brought joy to many who enjoy a tasty treat with coffee. You were also a lefse maker who made lefse history — big time — and someone who I will always remember fondly.

You can read it in the breathless style of writing and focus that Mary Lou Peterson uses when she describes being the first person to put together the 504-piece Let’s Make Lefse! Jigsaw Puzzle. “I saw the lefse puzzle and knew immediately that I needed to have it,” wrote Mary Lou from Minnetonka, Minnesota.

I can only imagine what she was thinking during this dramatic moment in history. Observing her sketchy writing style, I thought that perhaps she sensed she was on the precipice of making lefse history and was rushing to be the first finisher of the lefse puzzle and therefore the first puzzler to enter the Lefse Hall of Fame. And yet she kept her wits about her and jotted notes, knowing that all in Lefse Land would be begging for details once the word spread.

History will mark Mary Lou as a gamer. She had the right stuff, that obsessive drive that causes all jigsaw joy seekers to stay up late and get up early so that they can find the proper home for every last piece of the puzzle. As a nurse who has years of experience dealing with life-and-death situations, she knew she had to be steady and levelheaded under immense pressure to finish this puzzle before anyone else in Lefse Land. She knew she had to keep her eye on the prize and not be distracted by the ballyhoo and big bucks that would come with entering the Lefse Hall of Fame. Steady, Mary Lou, steady …

For the record, Mary Lou and family finished the Let’s Make Lefse Jigsaw Puzzle on August 20, 2018, and posted a photo of her prize puzzle on Facebook with a note that modestly said, “Done….”

Well done, Mary Lou! Here’s to you and your spot in history!

And here are Mary Lou’s notes that will be recorded in the Lefse Hall of Fame:

 

I saw the lefse puzzle and knew immediately that I needed to have it. The puzzle boxes, two extra for Christmas, arrived….

I cleared the dining table, emptied the bag that held the pieces … stood back … which part to do first??

I had a slow start. I had not done a puzzle for years. It took a plan….

I separated the colors, the stripes, and the edge pieces. Then I started … a bit slow at first….

I recruited my daughter, Kara Peterson. My husband, Craig Peterson, came by and was help….

It took several days … a few minutes at a time as I passed the table where the puzzle was being assembled. The big lefse done … it got easier and edges were completed … the arms and hands … the lefse turner’s….

Kara commented how it was tricky that the hands were in three places and that there was all this blue in the puzzle. Craig worked on the stove in the puzzle’s background. He has a good eye and had that section completed pretty quickly.

Finally, it all came together — and finished!

Then I grabbed the phone for a picture and posted on FB.

The puzzle was great fun.

Click here to purchase the puzzle.

The Minnesota State Fair set the total attendance record this year with 2,046,533 visitors, about 50,000 more than what was the record last year. There were several contributing factors (good weather, good economy), but the biggest reason for the new record was the introduction of the lefse beer called Uffda Ale. Fer sure!

Uffda Ale is a new brew made by Beaver Island Brewing, and it was sold at Giggles’ Campfire Grill at the southeast corner of Lee Avenue and Cooper Street, at the North Woods. Frankly, I had my doubts about this beer, that it would turn out to be a gimmicky embarrassment to all of us who honor all things lefse. But it wasn’t! It was actually a good, smooth beer that went down easily and benefitted from the zing of a handful of added lingonberries. And the Lefse Chip (a strip of fried, salted lefse) was a tasty touch.

As I stood in line for my Uffda Ale at Giggles’, I observed that about half of those walking away with a beer in their hand were carrying the Uffda Ale with the Lefse Chip on top. Hmmm … .

The day I attended, there were 270,426 visitors, which set the one-day attendance record. Is it too much of a stretch to say that 135,213 (half) of them were there because they had heard of this new lefse beer and just had to try it? Fer sure!

That’s a Lotta Lefse

After I enjoyed my first Uffda Ale made with lefse, I just had to visit my friends at the Jacobs Lefse Bakeri & Gifts booth. They were selling all things lefse and some almond cookies that are so good they make you want to find a quiet corner and eat all six in the bag. They were also selling my two lefse books; Jacobs is featured in both.

Perhaps inspired by the Uffda Ale, I held up my latest book, Keep on Rolling!, and said in a very loud voice, “Boy, this sure looks like a great book!” Bonnie turned from making a lefse rollup. She didn’t recognize me and turned back to her work, probably thinking I was a kook. Joanne immediately recognized me and smiled as she approached. Bonnie then came over, and we all talked and took a photo.

Before leaving, I asked Bonnie how many lefse rounds Jacobs sells a day at the Fair.

“Oh, I don’t know, about 2,000,” she said.

Amazing! I’m glad that Jacobs has been at the Fair for the last 18 years keeping the lefse tradition alive.

 

 

When you’re flummoxed by life, make lefse. It’ll calm you down and help you figure things out — or at least help to put the problem aside so you can come back to it fresh.

Jigsaw puzzles are also calming. When you start one, you ease into a meditation that can turn into a fun obsession. Time slips away as you deliberately test your eye and memory. With so many pieces of the puzzle, it can seem overwhelming. So you shoot for small victories. You celebrate a corner piece, the establishment of your border, the coupling of that sneaky, amoeba-shaped piece that has tricked and eluded you for hours.

With lefse making and jigsaw puzzles, you can easily slip into a blissful time when your mind is devoted to just … one … thing.

Lefse and Jigsaw Puzzles

Every Christmas I make lefse, of course, but I also give Jane Legwold, my wife, a 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle. She loves them, staying up late and rising early until the puzzle is done. She pulls in me, the kids, and the grandkids, and finishing this thing — fueled by lefse and tea — becomes the Christmas Quest.

As Jane and I teamed up on last Christmas season’s obstinate puzzle, I said jokingly to her that there should be a lefse jigsaw puzzle. She sorta shrugged but didn’t dismiss the idea. However, the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of a unique puzzle —a lefse jigsaw puzzle! — that helps the whole family learn about lefse equipment and some of the steps in making lefse. Very cool!

I compiled four colorful-yet-instructive lefse-making photos, and had a 504-piece sample puzzle made. Jane, accustomed to solving 1,000-piece puzzles, sniffed at the “Let’s Make Lefse!” puzzle, perhaps thinking this little thing would be a snap.

Well, it wasn’t and it earned her praise, which is high praise indeed. The rest of the family is less hardcore, so we liked that the 504-piece puzzle was challenging yet not overpowering. Most of all, we liked that the “Let’s Make Lefse!” puzzle — just like lefse making — was unusual, pretty, fun to do, and brought the whole family together.

And that’s how it happened that the one and only “Let’s Make Lefse!” puzzle is now for sale at www.lefseking.com. Check it out.

 

 

You may have noticed I took a break from blogging and The Lefse & Lutefisk News for the last month. Two reasons:

First, it’s the low lefse season, and all’s quiet on the lefse front. After all, making lefse in a hammock is pretty tricky.

Second, my son, Ben Legwold, his future father-in-law, Kou Vang, and I just finished a 16’ x 20’ deck that attaches to his new house here in the Twin Cities. It was the first deck for all of us, and it turned out great. From time to time my thoughts turned to the similarities between deck building and lefse making, of course, and here are my top five:

1. Deck building and lefse making are best when done with others. The buddy system works. When you tire or get discouraged, your partners can pick you up. Also, your strengths tend to complement their strengths. In lefse making, one may like making dough while the others like rolling and grilling. With deck building, I could get bogged down with overthinking square and level and meeting code. But Ben and Kou would keep us moving with their intuitive style.
2. You can do anything with the right tools. Since I was my son’s age, I have been building up tools for projects I would do at my houses. I am glad I have had them, and I threw all my tools—and a couple of new ones I didn’t know existed—at this deck project. Early on, my dilemma was: Do I pay for tools and risk making a royal mess of things out of ignorance and lack of confidence, or do I just use the money to hire a professional to do it right? Sure, I hired pros when I knew I would be in over my head. But often, I’d buy the tools, usually be the best ones affordable, and let the tools and particulars of the projects teach me. The same is true of lefse-making equipment. Buy the best and give yourself a chance to make the best lefse.
3. What if lefse had to meet code? Think about that. What if you had to take out a permit—which you have to do with deck building—before you made every batch of lefse you intended to share with family or sell to customers at the holidays? And then those batches had to meet a lefse code and pass inspection? Oh, the Perfectionist Support Group meetings would be packed!
4. Surprises and humor await! You can plan your deck building and lefse making to the nth degree, but stuff happens. Your rolling pin breaks, so you roll lefse using a sock-covered tube of caulk. Your deck isn’t square, so you make the ends of one corner meet by setting a second post at that corner. NB: Our deck was square.
5. You must celebrate. Just as it is unthinkable that you not sit and savor lefse with your lefse team when the rolling is done, you must also celebrate your deck again and again. Eat on it, watch sun rises, and discover constellations with family and friends. Lefse and decks invite the best of living.

“What are you snobbish about?”

That was the question posed during a small gathering of friends and family in our living room last spring. We agreed that everyone has an uppity attitude about something. Then we each took a turn admitting our own particular area of assumed superior taste. One confessed to being a martini snob; another to being snobbish about movies.

Because of our sister Mary Jane’s well-known open-heartedness, we knew she would have trouble coming up with a sense of superiority about anything. We unanimously rejected all of her proposed persnicketiness — until she declared herself to be a snob about lefse. With a touch of indignation in her tone, she insisted: “You cannot make real lefse with instant mashed potatoes!”

Scary Lefse?

As a fierce defender of homemade lefse, Mary Jane always showed up for the family’s fall festival of lefse making at sister Nancy’s house. Starting from scratch with russet potatoes, we six siblings — along with some of our spouses, our children, and, eventually, grandchildren — mixed, rolled, and baked lefse. With four electric lefse grills fired up to 500 F, fuses would blow at least once during the daylong lefse-making marathon. The kids called out “Open griddle!” whenever a hot grill stood empty for a moment too long. We ate plenty of lefse while we worked. And we stacked up enough lefse to wrap and save for Thanksgiving dinner.

For Halloween Mary Jane and I had a tradition of wearing costumes to greet trick-or-treating kids at my front door. Most often, we disguised ourselves as witches. But one year Mary Jane showed up at my house dressed in white and wearing an apron and a chef’s hat emblazoned with Uff da. Her face was dusted floury-white and her cheeks were blushing lipstick-red. She was wielding a lefse stick.

“Do you think the kids will know what you are supposed to be?” I said, laughing. “Since when did lefse makers become scary?!”

Lefse for Her Last Birthday

At a family dinner, someone asked each of us to name our all-time favorite, couldn’t-live-without food. Without hesitation, Mary Jane said: “Lefse!”

So I made a batch of lefse for her 58th birthday. Lefse — plus a jar of lingonberry jam, birchwood butter knife, and dishtowel embroidered with Grandma’s lefse recipe — seemed a perfect gift. Sunday, May 7, we Weflen siblings and Mary Jane’s daughter gathered for a backyard picnic to celebrate.

That birthday turned out to be Mary Jane’s last. Though ever-hopeful and full of faith and joy, she was suffering from lung cancer.

Mary Jane died Nov. 3, 2017. Our family did not make lefse for Thanksgiving. But our lefse-making tradition will hold.

Fresh Lefse at the Cemetery

Mary Jane and I belonged to a Norwegian-American scholarship organization called Lakselaget, aka the salmon club of “women who swim against the current.” An American Sign Language interpreter, Mary Jane orchestrated and interpreted a memorable Lakselaget presentation by a deaf professor. He told about his travels to Norway to teach at a folk school for the deaf. At a Lakselaget luncheon this past February, Gary Legwold spoke about lefse and his book Keep on Rolling! I demonstrated how to roll lefse. Mary Jane would have, in her words, “loved it all to pieces.” A slideshow beforehand featured an epitaph and portrait of Mary Jane smiling joyously. So I rolled each round in honor of our No. 1 Lefse-Loving Lady.

On a Saturday night this May, I made lefse. Then Sunday I brought the fresh lefse to Corinthian Cemetery in Farmington, Minnesota. There, our family gathered to remember Mary Jane and her birthday. We picnicked on lefse — rolled up with unsalted butter and brown sugar, just how Mary Jane loved her lefse.