That Time of Year

I may be Norwegian, but because I was adopted I have no real history of my heritage. I was raised around a bunch of Germans on my Dad's side. My mom's grandparents both immigrated from Sweden. Even through my adoptive heritage, I'd never been exposed to Lutefisk until my 30s...and I've never let it pass my lips.

Then today, I read this article (http://www.startribune.com/456/story/796805.html) from the Minneapolis Star Tribune. I never cease to be amazed at the popularity around codfish soaked in lye.

Here's a short excerpt:

Harris has a prodigious constitution: In 2004, he visited 30 lutefisk
suppers, and last year, 24. Like Parker, Harris keeps meticulous notes of his tastings. (Admittedly, Harris doesn't go into as much detail as Parker does about the delicate bouquet and subtle flavor notes.)

But Harris modestly disclaims any comparison to Parker; he's a
lutefisk lover, not an expert, he said. "The basic secret is, you have to have it firm and flaky. If you boil it just a little bit too long, it's going to turn into Jell-O. And that's not good lutefisk."

The one big schism among churches is the doctrinal issue of sauce: The Swedish custom is cream sauce, while Norwegians favor melted butter. Harris has noticed a pattern: "The Swedish churches all have butter sauce for the Norwegians, but there are quite a few Norwegian churches that don't have cream sauce for the Swedes."

I continue to be curious, but not brave enough to attend a church supper featuring lutefisk on the menu. I think I'll stick to chili or some form of tuna casserole when I get the urge to eat in a church basement.

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