A Few Words About Lefse

I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't blog about lefse. For you non-Minnesotans/Norwegians, lefse is traditional Thanksgiving and Holiday fare. I can't call it a "dish" or "dessert" or "bread," because it's none of those things. Some call it a potato tortilla. My grandma calls it a "treat," so that's what I'm going with. A purist applies butter and sugar, rolls it up, and eats it. It also makes a good vehicle for leftover turkey dinner and various jams/fruit butters. The sky is the limit with lefse!

I was fortunate enough to learn how to make lefse from a seasoned pro - my grandma. Every year, around the middle of November, she would retreat to her basement kitchen and make lefse. All day. Where was my grandma when she heard JFK was shot? Making lefse. There was never a Thanksgiving or Christmas without lefse, so much so that I definitely took it for granted. Only after I moved away and contemplated her advancing age, along with the fact that no one else in the family knows how to make it, did I realize that the future of holiday lefse might depend on me.

(Incidentally, in addition to Lefse HQ, Grandma's basement housed her sewing and knitting machines and larder filled with home-canned goods - I'm merely the proverbial apple that fell from her amazing tree.)

Here I am, three years and several batches later. After a few flops early on, MANY 5lb bags of potatoes, and a truckload of flour, I think it does my grandma's recipe justice. Lefse-making has become part of the Christmas Eve tradition with Rob's family, and I think this year's vintage was the best yet! Hmmm ... All this thinking about lefse has made me VERY hungry for it. Perhaps it's not too late for more.