13 Tuesday Aug 2013
Posted in Cooking, Good Life, Norwegian Cuisine
Husband, Son and my father-in-law went fishing and came back with four wee mackerels. Mother-in-law did the dirty work, and a few minutes later dinner was served.
One mackerel each. Fried in a pan with a heavy dose of butter, a spoon or two of sour cream and a good sprinkle of freshly cut parsley. Served with boiled potatoes fresh from the soil and a light cucumber salad.
The dish should be followed by rhubarb soup for desert, but unfortunately it is already out of season.
10 Tuesday Apr 2012
The last few weeks it seems like the entire country has been bathed in sunshine. Spring is here and the temperature is slowly rising. Some days, however, the sun comes as a surprise on the landscape that has for so long been lingering in the cold, and as protection the sea rolls in with a heavy veil of fog. The fog covers the long fjords and rises up around the cold water, creating an air of mystery and tranquility. 
I took these photos on my way to visit my parents. The ferry across the fjord was the perfect time to get out of the car and capture the white surroundings.
06 Monday Feb 2012
We awoke on Friday to a landscape radically different to the one we had seen outside our windows on Thursday evening. Snow, quite a few inches deep, covered everything: houses, cars, trees, lawns, roads. It was beautiful. With a temperature dipping below -5 the snow was like a powder, a small gust of wind would whirl up a cloud of white. Although beautiful, the cold did not look tempting and required no close inspection. Luckily I was able to work from home.
Or, at least I could for a while. Around noon we lost our internet connection, just after I had finished a project that I had to send off. It was cold outside, but as soon as I stood ankle-deep in snow, with snowflakes falling from above, I took on the mental state of a five-year-old. A rather responsible five-year-old with no interest of getting too cold or wet, and with a driver’s license. So…
I found a road going downhill. It was deserted as far as I could see. It was broad and the snow lay packed. It was slippery. And I did everything I could to take advantage of it (which really isn’t much…). I sped on a bit, hit the breaks, and for a few seconds (or probably less than a whole second) I felt like I had no control of the car. In a controlled situation like that I could argue that I do it for the greater good: it’s important to know how easily one can lose control of a car. Anyway, the short drive was quite an adventure. The city looked like it belonged in a fairy-tale. I saw a woman on skis, on the pavement, with skis! (I know this is Norway, but this is in fact not a common sight!) After I arrived home Husband and I found a toboggan and walked to get Son home from kindergarten. Joy!! 😀
20 Tuesday Dec 2011
The first snowfall in the city happened while I was in a different city. A few centimetres of snow fell while I was in London and was already gone by the time I came home a day later. I thus missed it… But the weather gods understood my frustration and have now gently bestowed upon us a few centimetres of snow. The snow appeared from dark skies that have been looming over our house for hours and came falling down before it was too late collect photographic evidence!
12 Monday Dec 2011
Posted in Baking, Norwegian Cuisine, Yule
Tags
Baking, Christmas traditions, Dough, Food, Lussekatter, Norway, Recipe, Yeast
I am rarely able to bake and display in one day, but today will be an exception to that rule; today is the night before Lussi (the day of Saint Lucia). Living in a country that is predominantly protestant, there has never been much focus on saints. There is also very little focus (if any) on religion in the celebration of Lussi. For me, Lussi has meant school or kindergarten celebrations (I’ll elaborate in a bit) and the baking of Lussekatter.
In kindergartens or school (the lower grades) Lussi is celebrated by kids dressing in white and parading through the school or kindergarten or through a care home to entertain the elderly. Every kid is dressed in white and holding a white candle. One girl, often with long blond hair, is crowned Lucia and leads the parade. She wears a crown holding candles.
It is a celebration of light in the darkest time of the year. The Christian traditions have mixed with old heathen traditions resulting in a tradition now that I believe most Norwegians would not be able to connect to any religion or faith. What is obvious though is the symbolic white and bright in a time of darknes, where there is a bit christianity mixed in with the mentioning of St. Lucia, and the devil through the lussekatter (lussi cats – referring to Lucifer the cat), and the lighting of candle and dressing in white to bring light in order to scare off the heathen creatures of the underworld lurking in the night.
Anyway, the reason why we bake these lussekatter might not be interesting at all (especially not with such an inadequate introduction), but the main reason is the tradition itself (at least it is to me). And the fact that the lussekatter are bright, ocher-y yellow also adds to the fun.
Today Son and I have spent some good, quality time together, dancing along to christmas songs while kneading a bright, yellow dough. I think I had more fun than him! I’ll give you the recipe in case you want to try it yourself:
Cook for 5-8 mins at 250 degrees celsius.
This year I made one batch with saffron and one with turmeric. I have never tried saffron before, for reasons unknown to me. The saffron was a nice change, it gave a better colour, better smell, but is still a little new to me. The turmeric smell and taste is what I’m used to. But I think saffron might win in the long run…
28 Wednesday Sep 2011
Posted in Cooking
Tags
Autumn, Food, Kålrotstape, Mashed rutabaga, Mashed Swede, Norway, Norwegian Cuisine, Recipe, Rutabaga, Swede
Please join me further down the path of Norwegian delicacies. Today we have a very simple dinner planned: sausages and mashed swede (or rutabaga if you like).
The big, round root is first sliced, then peeled (using a small knife, don’t bother with no potato peeler) and diced. Put in a pot, add water to just about cover the root, put a lid on and leave on medium heat to simmer for a while. To check if it’s done pierce a piece with a sharp knife, if the knife won’t hold the piece of swede then consider it done. Drain, add a pinch or two of sugar, add a wee bit of milk or cream and a spoonful of cream cheese (if you like). Mash it all up using either a masher or a hand blender. A swede can without problems be mashed using a hand blender (potatoes should not). I often add a carrot or two to the mash. The carrots are then sliced and boiled with the swede.
I served this with lamb sausages (which you really should try if you’re in the area!)
Swedes are people too and should not be confused with the root-vegetable which is the subject of this post. No Swedes were hurt making this dish.
27 Tuesday Sep 2011
Tags
I’m quiet, I know, I’m not dead I’m still here, I’ve just been very busy living.
Autumn is here and now it’s here to stay. I really don’t mind. I bought this cute, little umbrella this summer and I now get to use it every day. I enjoy huge cups of tea at night (and at work) and I have a son who at least every weekend gives me plenty of reasons to go outside and enjoy the season.
Son has a few favourite activities that I must admit I don’t participate in as much as I should. For some reason it seems more of a hassle dressing myself properly before going outside than it is to dress him properly. The big puddles are thus reserved for my wee man. 
Another favourite activity is to pick rowan berries, throw them high up in the air and see them dance around us as they fall down. Before the berries stop rolling about, Son tries to smash them flat by stepping on them. In this activity I participate joyfully but I do restrain myself a wee bit and let him get most of the berries. 
And for those of you with culinary interests, the black gems hidden in the bushes at this time of year are the blackberries. In Norwegian they’re called ‘bjørnebær’ which translates to ‘bear-berries’. Many of Son’s teddy-bears have suffered many a stomach ache after stuffing their faces with these sweet things
12 Monday Sep 2011
Posted in Information, Politics
It’s election night in Norway. Local election covering the municipalities and counties. Norway consists of 19 counties, where each county again has a number of municipalities. There are national and local elections every fourth year, both are held separately which means there are two years between each election. We have a multi-party system, which means there are a bunch (say about ten) different parties. These, unless one party really stands out and get a massive amount of votes, must collaborate to form the government, or the local councils. The parties earn seats depending on how large a percentage of the votes they get. A candidate from the party with the most votes is usually placed as prime minister, mayor, or similar positions (depending on the election) – but only if the largest party is able to (form a coalition with other parties in order to) hold the majority of seats.
The rose is the symbol for one of the parties. It does not necessarily mean it was the party I voted for. This rose, however, was given to me by a representative from that party and is the only election-related photo I have.
I have been struggling a lot this year deciding which party to vote for. In fact, I didn’t even make up my mind until I was on my way to vote. I always take an election seriously. A few parties I have eliminated long before I even start thinking about the election, but that still leaves a fair amount of parties to chose from.
This year I narrowed it down to four parties. I started looking at one part, studying the party’s pamphlets and flyers. I looked at their main concerns and goals – nodded, smiled, and I was content with what they were saying. Turned the page and I was happy. I was thrilled and hoped I would be able to make up my mind weeks before the actual election. But I was wrong. I turned the page again. I read a few lines and my heart sank. I sighed, I cursed, and try to find logic in their arguments. I read on, shook my head, sighed again, and felt hope leave my heart. I face-palmed the colourful leaflets. I turned to another party and a new doze of propaganda. History repeated itself: face-palms, sighs, curses, rolling eyes, and desperation. With every one of the four parties, the four parties I was left with after carefully eliminating every one of the others, history repeated itself. I turned to technology, the local newspaper has set up online tests to see which party you should vote for. My highest score was 37%. I could agree with “my” party in 37% of all cases. My other three parties scored somewhere between 32 and 35.
Of course I can’t not vote (yes, double negative, meaning I do have to vote) I at least I have to give my vote to anyone but the parties I early in the process eliminated. A few coin-flips and a few good discussions and a short walk to the ballot boxes later I was able to chose a party. Now, I have given them all I can, my one vote. The only one I got, and I hope they won’t let me down too much. If they do, I guess I have to consider a career in politics myself… (which I just couldn’t do – I find my choices logical, as will everyone else. Which would give me no competition against the other parties and make Norwegian politics logical and perfect, but also plain and boring – it would just be too unfair to everyone else, so I’ll refrain. You’re welcome!)
02 Friday Sep 2011
Tags
Husband, Son and I were sitting around the table eating when Husband turns to Son (who was not very keen on eating) and says: “Take one more bite and we’ll go to the beach afterwards”. I was a little surprised, but what a wonderful surprise!
We have often said that we ought to go to the beach. We only live a short drive away from some amazing sand dunes and really have no excuse not to go. But we have just never kicked ourselves in the butt and walked out the door.
The scenery is just wonderful. Long, sandy, beaches and a fresh ocean breeze coming in from the North Sea. The afternoon was rather cloudy, but we had no rain until a wee drizzle surprised on our way back to the car.
Son loved it, of course, and so did we. I had time to play around with my camera. Toying with the manual setting, which I am trying to figure out and eventually master. I shot some beautiful pictures of us all together, but I also managed to capture the view in, what I consider, at least a presentable way. I hope you like them. 
31 Wednesday Aug 2011
A new found friendship took me up a path I haven’t travelled for many years. This sentence sound metaphorical, but it isn’t, in fact it is not at all. A visiting colleague opened for the opportunity for me to work as a mountain guide for a day. In the company of a wonderful lady I walked the few kilometres to the Pulpit Rock on a sunny weekday. The Pulpit Rock is a peculiar rock formation of a nearly flat, square mountain plateau situated 604 metres above sea level. Under the Rock there’s a vertical mountainside which ends in a scree slope, an accumulation of rocks and fragments of rocks which again runs into the fjord a little further down.
We started our walk from the parking lot above the Preikestolen Youth Hostel where I have spent many of my summers cleaning and cooking. Im in no better shape then I was while doing the climb, and my pulse reached new heights. The first part of the hike is quite steep. The bad thing about that is of course that me being in such bad shape will have trouble keeping my pulse down, I feel flushed, and I need to take many small breaks. The positive side is that when you stop and turn around the view is stunning; where stunning is indeed an understatement. We could see across the fjord to the city and beyond.
We climbed a few screes, passed a few Spaniards, laughed at a few Germans, and followed the path thread by hundreds of thousands every summer. When we had finished climbing, we sat down for lunch. We found a decent plateau where we had a wonderful view of the fjord, a lake, the forests and the surrounding mountain tops. How wonderful it is to sit on top of the world, enjoying a nice meal with good company, with the heaviest part of the walk behind us, and the best yet to come. We sat down in isolation, though with quite a few tourists passing by a few metres away, but when left we left behind a group of about 30 people who had been inspired by our lunch break.
A few minutes’ walk later we rounded the mountain and came out to the steep slopes running down into the fjord. A few balancing acts and a few metres of plain walking we saw the Pulpit Rock.
The view is surreal, better than any postcard. I can not begin to describe and will instead leave you with these few photos a mere attempts of showing the magnificence of the goal of our hike.
Anne blabbers 
