Tender Mercies: Lefse

For all of you unfamiliar with this Scandinavian delicacy, the word for it is pronounced "lef-sa." And already, I am afraid...very afraid...that I am offending someone by using the word Scandinavian. Truth be told, I do not know whether lefse is Norwegian or whether it is Swedish, and I have very probably offended everyone by using the generic term for either or both.

NO MATTER!! Whatever its origins, eating lefse is a means of being transported to some other place in some other time. Basically, it is a thin (a very thin...about the thickness of a flour tortilla...and let me HASTEN to assure you lest anyone else be offended that there the similarities are at an end!)... flat concoction consisting primarily of potatoes. The mixture is poured into or onto a hot griddle and at the right moment, special lefse sticks are inserted underneath (all the way underneath) in order to turn them to the other side. Your everyday kitchen spatula or egg turner will not work in this regard...or so I am told.

But I was told a lot of stories about lefse on the day they were served at coffee break...family stories and church stories, stories of the memories of occasions on which lefse was always served, stories of trial-and-error in attempts to reach the high standards achieved by lefse-making-predecessors, stories of community legends who would shut themselves in a kitchen and assume the powerful and secret rights of making lefse for an entire gathering.

When lefse was served at a recent coffee break, there were instructions for the uninitiated as to how to prepare the individual pieces for consumption. This sign was next to another sign pleading with people to take only 1 or 2 on the first trip through the line so that all could be guaranteed of having, say, 1 or 2!

Dan Roberts' enthusiasm for the morning coffee break selection is obvious. He tops his lefse with brown sugar. Inge Chiles is intent on getting her lefse properly folded. I can't think that it would matter how it was folded; it is delicious however you are able to transport it to the mouth...some ways are just neater than others.

Can you imagine a school like this one? You study all morning and then at 10:30 you have a break and cross the road to the dining hall to butter up and sugar up your snack of lefse! Joe Coffey and Raina Rerucha-Borges dig right in. (And see the hat that Joe is wearing? He made it, probably while carrying the 2 skeins of wool under his armpit while he did whatever else it was that he was doing at the time. Word has it that he knit a hat while he was on a hike to Hart Lake. Maybe you don't believe it, but I do. Maybe not this hat, but another.)

(And already a correction...from Joan Neslund...: "Lefse is not poured it is rolled with a special Lefse rolling pin (has bumps on it). You roll the dough on a floured board until it is thin and in a round shape. You then place it on the hot griddle where it cooks and browns in places. Flip it with the stick.")