Personal
Notes: |
Personal
Notes: The envelope arrived in Florida one Thursday afternoon. It was a plain white business envelope not much different from all the bills that daily flood my mailbox. This one however was different…it was hand addressed and stamped and I recognized the handwriting as my Father’s. Well of course I tore it open; who doesn’t eagerly receive a personal handwritten letter especially from a much-loved family member. What I found was a single computer generated sheet bearing a curious recipe: Norwegian Hot Sauce. Beneath the recipe was a single hand written sentence of only 6 words, “Do a story for this one.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Oh, the agony of trying to decide whether my Father was making fun of me or entrusting me with the awesome responsibility of translating a sacred culinary expression of his own esteemed heritage. Did he really believe that I was up to the job? Could his snot nosed kid be trusted to properly pass it on for posterity? Dad certainly enjoys a “good one” when it comes to jokes. He enjoys them richly but tells them rarely. But then it occurred to me that his gentle nature, as least as far as his fellow humans were concerned, (Animals were another thing entirely…he could be quite emphatic with a critter that was stubborn or acted “mulish” whatever its species.) suggested that it was unlikely he was trying to have a joke at my expense and as Sherlock observed to Watson, when one rules out the impossible, whatever is left, not matter how implausible must be the truth.
Well, that was comforting on one level but anxiety provoking on another. It made me think, “Did he really believe I was up to the job of rendering this cultural treasure in a manner befitting its hallowed status. I decided I had to try.
It has long been established that Norwegians are the masters of “white food.” Their culinary scope ranges from pristine white milk and potatoes, to codfish, to bread, of course and lefse and at the culinary apex, a delicacy lacking not only color but also texture. I’m referring of course to lutefisk, which resembles, at least to this unappreciative and obviously unacculturated Norwegian American, nothing more than a blob of lye soaked cod. For this delicacy, Norwegian-Americans gather in large groups and travel great distances…perhaps the Linie Aquavit they consume in prodigious quantities transforms the lutefisk or at least helps them forget the experience. I was tempted at first to say, “forget the taste or the aroma or whatever” but no, I think only the word “experience” will do.
But I digress. Our subject is Norwegian Hot Sauce and as the gentle reader will, by this point, have discerned it is necessarily a white hot sauce. Every farm kid who ever watched a blacksmith or welder at work knows white-hot is definitely hotter than red-hot. Take that you slaves to the color conventions of spicy Indian or Mexican food. In the interest peaceful co-existence, let’s get past this color thing and let the recipe speak for itself.
At this point, I will admit that I have not personally tried the recipe. I suspect that, just as with lutefisk, my Norwegian heritage has been too much diluted to properly appreciate the wonders of this concoction. It is however available to you and, with this publication, preserved for posterity.
Nord Brue
Sept 2010
|
This recipe for Norwegian Hot Sauce is from