Have you met the Ghost? Beet-lanterns Long Before the Pumpkin.

     "Have you met the ghost yet?" Kenneth, a classmate, asked me early one Monday morning in fifth or sixth grade. Kenneth had done some research over the week-end and apparently found an old book that described the story of a ghost at Gammelgaard, where I lived. Many historic places such as Gammelgaard were rumored to have ghosts; the Grey Lady is one that quickly comes to mind from another place.

     Up until that point I hadn't had any such encounters; I think growing up, you only think of your home as home, regardless of where it is. I certainly didn't think of our home any differently than you did of yours while growing up. Of course I was aware that there was a mote and tower and turrets, I was aware that important people from Danish history had lived there, but I didn't romantisize (is that a word?-It is now!)) over it. Perhaps Kenneth's discovery was meant to frighten me, perhaps he really just wanted to start a conversation, whatever the motivation, he showed me the book and it did open my eyes and spark great curiosity.
     I looked and I looked; sometimes I thought I saw something, sometimes I thought I heard something. When I walked down to the stables early in the morning to feed the horses, while it was still dark, I definetely found things hiding behind each tree, along the long walk down to the farm; and I held a large flashlight in one hand and the leash to my black Labrador tightly in the other, all the while fixating my eyes solely on the circle of light in front of my feet .

     Halloween is next month which is what reminded me of Kenneth's question. Denmark has adopted the American traditions. I believe it was in 1996 when someone tried to sell a bunch of orange pumpkins to the Danes, and now every year more than 100.000 of them are sold there. But Halloween isn't actually an American thing and the lantern tradition definetely had a place in Denmark over 100 years ago, only it was a hollowed out sugar-beet; using the pointy end(s) as freaky looking hair. I remember making them as a child and they are much harder to make than the pumpkin versions (imagine a giant fat carrot, the consistency being the same, so you will need a good knife and be careful not to cut yourself). Beet lanterns have faded almost to extinction up until now.

     Like so many traditions Halloween is a compilation of different legends, part religious, part pagan, celebrations of harvest and celebrations of the dead. But the original Jack-O'Lantern was actually a sugar beet. An important detail for someone like me, seeing as sugar beets are one of the main crops in the area where I grew up. And the original legend was from Ireland describing a lazy, drunken farmer, Jack, who lived an altogether unholy life. There are many variations of it but they all end up with Jack making a deal with the Devil himself, where the Devil will no longer tempt Jack and not claim his soul when that time comes. The time comes; Jack dies, as is customary at the end of life. Given his truely unholy life, he obviously cannot gain access to the Pearly Gates of Heaven and given his deal with the Devil he also cannot go down there. The Devil feels a bit of pity for Jack and gives him a glowing piece of coal to light his way. Jack hollows out a sugar beet to protect the little light source and make it last as long as possible as he wanders restlessly between Heaven and Hell. And voila! Here is your first Hallowen lantern, it was a sugar beet!

     I wonder if hollowing out sugar beets is having a renaissance in Denmark, now that Halloween is celebrated in the commercial sense too? Given the choice between hollowing out a pumpkin and hollowing out a sugar-beet, I know which is easier and certainly much safer (I have cut myself many many times carving sugar beets, but that's another story)

     P.S. Lauritz Grubbe and wife Anna Sparre (owners of Gammelgaard in 1596). As you can see from the painting, Lauritz' finger is indeed bleeding-see Lilje's comment below). I will return to the story of why it is bleeding and when it might stop if ever, another time.(It was not from carving sugar beets!)

     To answer Kenneth's question: "I am still not sure, I think I may have!"

Evolution, The Root of It.

It stands to reason that when you live as far north as Denmark and the majority of your vegetable supply comes from your garden, the usage of fresh ingredients is only possible for a very short time, the rest of the year you can only hope, that you have been productive enough and frozen/canned/dried enough to keep you fed through the winter.

During the growing season the joy of the super fresh ingredients is immense. As a child I took it for granted but I sure do appreciate it now. I don't have a big vegetable garden now, but I love my farmer's market. The rest of the year (which represents 3/4 of the year) in Denmark, you used to have to be quite innovative and clever to keep your daily intake of vital vitamins and roughage up. Today of course things are different as shipping makes it possible to have relatively fresh fruits and veggies from all parts of the world, but I am referring again to my grandmothers' cookbooks, and after long and hard deliberation, I have finally arrived at these observations as a possible answer to why so many vegetable preparations in their books, seem so laborious and often covered up with all kinds of sauces or incorporated into various stews, marinated, steamed, butter steamed, boiled, stewed and boiled and stewed! It was because they had to use canned and frozen vegetables.

Call it food evolution! My favorite, by far, method of preparing vegetables, root or otherwise, is very very simple and probably the one that brings out the most flavor; yet it isn't in any of my grandmothers' cookbooks.
You cut up the vegetables into similar chunks, using similar density (so don't do heavy roots with soft asparagus; but prepare those separately as they will need different cooking times). Preheat oven to 425 degrees F (over 200 degrees C). drizzle vegetables with olive oil, salt and pepper, mix around with your hands so most surfaces of the vegetables are covered, but not dripping. Spread vegetables in one layer on a baking sheet and put in the oven.
 Root chunks may take about 45 minutes depending on size, so keep an eye on them. Tomato-halves may take 25 minutes. You are looking for a bit of browning and caramelizing (by the natural sugars in the vegetable) Asparagus (you could also sprinkle those with some Parmesan cheese) will only take 5-10 minutes. These vegetables are naturally so very very tasty, they are healthy as you are only using their natural sugars and a little bit of olive oil (which is a good oil by the way), they may be served cold or warm. You may prepare them a day in advance and just reheat in oven before you have guests. I often start out vegetable soups this way also, even though it is an extra step it lends an incredible deep and homey taste dimension to the final product. Cauliflower, Beets, carrots, onions, all types of winter squash, tomatoes .....the list is endless.

I am sure my grandmothers also tried this method of preparation, maybe it was so simple, they didn't write it down, but it certainly has become my absolute favorite way of preparing many vegetables and invaluable in soup-making; one of my greatest sources of pride. Try it for Thanksgiving this year, there is nothing as pretty as a giant platter filled with the most colorful mixes of red beets, orange squashes, whole garlic bulbs, green acorn squash...etc etc. The taste renders the complete essence of each vegetable, and that's the root of it.
P.S. This way of preparing will also bring some happy summer flavor back into tired winter tomatoes, try it!
P.P.S. Brussel Sprouts, of which I am not a big fan, are actually delicious this way. They almost get a nutty flavor and the softness inside doesn't quite explode in your mouth, but certainly lets lose in a delightful way. Try sprinkling with toasted Proscioutto dices and toasted pine nuts.

The Smiling Egg

The Egg has gotten all kinds of attention over the years. At the moment it is considered highly nutritious and extremely good for you with a very high protein level (13%; and 75% water); that is if you can get your hands on a good one. Salmonella is the big scary word here and having a good provider has become as key as having a great fish monger.

Get the eggs as fresh as possible preferably from a source you know and trust. There are many farmer's markets these days and I have noticed at my own local farmer's market, that the fresh eggs always are one of the first products to go; so if you want some, you'll have to get there early. By the way, if you are not 100% sure of the freshness of your eggs; perhaps because you cannot read the exp. date on the carton or perhaps you put all your eggs into another container once they arrived at your refrigerator. Whatever the reason, if you are not sure of the freshness; try putting it in cold water; if it floats, it is too old!

"Johannes" was the name of the old man who helped my grandmother collect her eggs. He wore big jean overalls, old black worn out clogs, that made a distinct clakety-sound as he walked over the cobblestones; a jacket the color of winterhay and a black cap on top of his head. My cousin and I  would be invited to join him, on those mornings where we stayed with grandma, to go to the large henhouse. It was very noisy in there, but the hens never failed him. Every morning he could collect many eggs which he put in a large metal bucket. We always wondered why it was a metal bucket, it seemed such a hard thing for those eggs, but somehow it worked out fine.

Once you have procured a super specimen, there are many things you can do with it; you can use it for baking, you can use it for cooking anything from simple scrambled eggs to that elusive perfect souffle. Kept as a whole, people usually think of the egg two ways: either hardboiled or softboiled. But there is another way; my grandmother's cookbook reminded me of this: The Smiling Egg! No, she didn't invent this, it is a term all Danes are familiar with. When you cook your whole eggs somewhere between softboiled and hardboiled. When the eggwhite is hard and the outer part of the yolk is a little bit hard but the inside of the yolk is still a bit almost runny....then indeed you have yourself a Smiling Egg.  Depending on how runny you like your yolk, you will find your own perfect cooking time for this, but it is essential, just like with hardboiled eggs, to run it under cold water when the cooking time is over, to stop the cooking process and then serve immediately. (These smiling eggs will keep in the refrigerator for 4 days if you leave the shell on, just like with hardboiled eggs, but they are perfection, when they are just done.)

Smiling Eggs are served on- and with many dishes. Yesterday I quartered one and served it on top of an especially delicious broccoli soup. In Denmark you will find them in great variety: with Asparagus; with spinach; with a mustard cream sauce atop spiced herring; you may wrap them in a slice of ham and put them on a bed of slightly cooked spinach, pour over a bechamel/cheese sauce and broil for about 5 minutes in the oven...yumm yumm yumm.

Have your smiling egg any way you wish, but do make sure to give a great smile back!

Fall Considerations

Fall, my favorite time of the year! I was asked, what a person could expect to be served at a hunting event in Denmark.

There are of course unlimited variations to consider here, as many fold as the different hosts and hostesses, but I believe my curious friend was more interested in hearing about the instantaneous pictures and taste sensations, that her question brought to my own mind. And boy did it bring forth images, my mouth was watering.

A hunting dinner or luncheon will almost always implement some local produce. Although Denmark is a small country, one finds a surprising variety in the local specialities. If you are near a place that has cows, the Stroganoff will have beef in it, but near a sheep-producer you might find lamb-stroganoff. I love the many variations played on traditional meals but twisted around local specialities. Some places have an abundance of a certain kind of fish, in other places they pride themselves of their own home-made smoked cheese and in some cases even home-made wine. The common thread here being that you use what you have and you use it with pride and present it with elegance. When there is love (for a product) involved you hardly ever go wrong.

If I were to plan my own hunting event in Denmark right now, some of the following dishes would come under consideration:  Mushrooms a la creme; mushroom soup; "Hjerter i Floedesovs" (Hearts in creamsauce); Boef Stroganoff; Poached pears; Applecake (made in a hot ironpan); Red beets on warm pate; Jerusalem Artichoke soup; Hazelnut cake; Fig dessert; Roast filet mignon of deer; Roasted partridges; Oxtail Ragout; Apple Trifle; Roast wild Duck with Waldorf salad; and of course for the lunchpart: curried herring (although I'm not a big Herring fan).....and anything apple!

The more I think about it, the more things come to mind. For a long time, there was a real danger that everything was becoming bland and watered down, but I am so pleased to hear of food events popping up everywhere in Denmark, celebrating the local products, embracing the differences between a carrot from Lammefjorden and one from somewhere else. People are waking up, caring about not only what they eat, but where it is from and how they prepare it, which means people are curious and willing to try new things. I LOVE IT!  

"The game of Filipine"

Focused on fall memories and trying to recall those special Danish traditions this time of year. One little thing popped into my head probably slightly prematurely seasonwise, but I will share it nonetheless because I think it is quite old, having never heard of anybody else doing this.

Is it time yet in Denmark to pick Hazelnuts? Probably not quite yet, but it will soon be, that is if you want a chance to get the tasty treats before other hungry critters might. I would sometimes get to help mormor. We would put our raincoats and boots on, hers were hunter green, mine were yellow, and each with a basket in hand, we would head out towards the orchards. First we would walk down the long allee of Chestnut trees (not the edible kind, but the really tall ones with beautiful flowers in May) through the little wood towards mormor's Kitchen garden.

 The kitchen garden was, at that time, of an impressive scale, as it supplied the house with almost everything it needed year round. We would walk past rows and rows and rows of among other things: Asparagus, potatoes, carrots, cucumber, the little stubby kind, peas, dill, my favorite: strawberries, raspberries and further back would be the little bushes with Gooseberries, Currant, Blackberries etc. We would approach a thick tall hedge, squeeze through a small opening (being watchful of not tripping over the bared roots underfoot) and voila! We'd be in the orchards. Rows and rows upon endless rows of apple trees, plum trees, and pear trees.

The apples smelled the strongest; they were of old sorts that may be hard to find today, but they were so very very fragrant. There were early sorts, late sorts, cooking sorts and eating sorts. Mormor knew them all and would always know which ones were ready for a taste. I would bite into the fragrant orb and applejuice would come running down the sides of my cheeks; I would try to catch the drops with my tongue while crunching away on the tasty bite (many a tongue or cheek has been injured multitasking like that!). Apple in one hand and basket in the other, we were on our way along the path, where an impossibly tall willowhedge was on one side dividing this orchard from another orchard on the other side, probably mostly to stop the wind, if it were to really go wild, as that would knock off much fruit.

At the end of the very tall Willow hedge we'd finally reached our destination. A small creek was in front of us and on its steep banks grew the Hazel bushes with their countless skinny trunks. We picked as many as we could find, all of them still with their wilting husks on and then we headed back securing another apple to keep in the pocket for just such emergencies at a later point.

Back in mormor's kitchen we would taste some of the Hazelnuts, and I guarantee that if you have never tasted a fresh Hazelnut, you have something to look forward to! (You can come close to that fresh flavor by soaking storebought Hazelnuts in milk in the refrigerator for a while) As we were cracking the shells open, mormor suddenly said: "Filipine!" She opened her hand and revealed a twin: there were two Hazelnuts in one shell. Quite a rare occurance and she explained to me that we now had a Filipine game going; which meant that the next time we met I would have to say "Filipine" back to her, before she would say it, or I would owe her a treat of some sort. Needless to say, it is quite hard to remember such things over a long period of time, but it is probably good brain gymnastics!
My cousin and I, who only saw each other on holidays, later developed our own version and we would always have to say a certain motto to each other, each time we met. ("Damer er staerke"...."Ladies are Strong"), we still do from time to time actually.

I wonder where "the game of Filipine" started and how? I wonder if anybody else have ever heard of it or if perhaps it is a game my mormor made up when she was a little girl, perhaps with her cousin?

Mormor Ella on the kitchen steps at Baadesgaard

Mormor and one daughter in the allee of Chestnut-trees, headed for the vegetable garden

Photos by Georgina Wimbush

Check it OUT!

Needed a change of pace today, so I went a bit ahead of myself and dared to look at some of the contents of my over-scale project. One thing that has struck me, as I am copying by hand my grandmothers' recipes, is that I might run into some funny translation-moments......so today I decided to just take a peak at that aspect, keeping in mind that neither of my children speak Danish so in order for them to ever investigate their culinary heritage....well, it's all up to me, because anytime we visit Denmark, they (along with their American dad) prefer to stay safe.....sometimes wisely so!

Some things are obvious, but some are far from it: "Legless Birds" have nothing to do with birds but are made from beef. "Veiled Meatballs" are quite harmless and safe, even for foreigners, "Fake Duck" has nothing to do with duck, but is actually tenderloin. "Millionboef", "millionssteak" does not refer to your income level but is quite contrarily a dish with ground beef. "Mysterypudding" ("Forundringsgroed") is not to be afraid of; often served with cinnamon sugar, it is a refreshing dessert. "Peasant Girl" neither refers to an x-rated site nor is it a recipe left-over from cannibalistic times! (- What?.....The vikings traveled far!) It has apples, raspberries, cream and rye bread in it, doesn't that sound a bit enticing? "Witch's Dessert" or "Apple Snow" same thing and equally delicious rendering apples, lemon, sugar and egg whites.  "Balls of Snow"....probably better translated: "Snowballs"....not to worry, it's a dessert! "Norwegian Patches" does not refer to economic policies but is made with cream (that is sour) flour, eggs, sugar salt and vanilla. "Skipperlapskovs"....cannot be translated (suggestions are welcome!), but is a delicious stew.   "Lucky Mushrooms"....hey, come on! It's my grandmother's cookbook! -It is hardboiled eggs, tomato, parsley and egg whites and refers completely to the presentation of the dish, which is very creative and involves a lot of fine carving, in the end rendering the look of a white mushroom with a red top (+ white spots..... which in real life would indicate that it is poisonous.....but I don't think that was the whole point!)

"Braised whole pig's Head", is just that!..... I told you EVERYTHING was used!  "Ox Eye", is NOT just that, but merely 1/2 tomato hollowed out and filled with a raw egg yolk (which in todays salmonellaistic times present a bit of a dare!) and a raw onion ring. ""Gallop Cake" is a cake, so don't worry! "Snails" can be the real deal but at this point in my grandmother's cookbook it is a delicious pastry, so check the provenance before you order (if it's under desserts, I bet it'll be the pastry-version!) "Apple mussels" did not come from the sea, but are pastries. "Cobblestone" is also a pastry, but from the name (not having ever tasted this particular item), I'd not approach it on a full stomach! "Vroevl" or "Nonsense" are cookies. "Hjerter i Floedesovs" "Hearts in Cream-sauce" are just that, as my dear husband found out one time while we were on a hunt in Lolland, southern Denmark. He was so brave and actually seemed to enjoy it (until he was told what it was, but he still put up a really nice front.)

At this point my list goes into some more detailed things that are indeed as detailed as they need be, when you live on a farm and have to do everything from point A to point B. I admire the skills  and know-how they had when they weren't solely relying on the supermarket and what is behind the cellophane. But my point today is: not everything is what it seems, check the source and be adventurous!

The echoes in the wind

Situated on my patio under a huge umbrella (to protect me from the bombarding giant acorns) I am sitting at our outdoor dining table overlooking my Connecticut garden. It is the beginning of September, I finally have time to devote to this dear project, the sun is warming my back, the dogs are splayed around my feet (when they are not chasing a chipmunk up into the drain pipe, which they did only a few minutes ago) In front of me I have a large green tray with my grandmother, Ella's (mormor) cookbook open to the page I last made it to. A little closer to me is the version I have had scanned. I am in the process of going through each and every word of the 575 pages book, to make sure I get to copy it correctly before I have to send the original back to my family in Denmark. There are many places where the ink was so weak that the scan didn't go over very well.

My black pen follows my grandmother's and I hear the wind in the trees, it starts from the right today and swings to the left, such a soothing sound, as the wind engages more and more tree-tops in each gust. I can hear my grandmother's voice and I can almost see her finger pointing to the part in the recipe she has gotten to. I imagine I am sitting on my grandparents' veranda like so many times before sipping a cool glass of her homemade raspberry lemonade. I am very far back in time now and I can hear my grandfather approaching from the garden, he is walking on the gravel path, (that has since been turned into lawn entirely) that surrounds the very large lawn and mormor's incredible perennial gardens. He has a metal bucket in his hand, it is empty now because he has just finished putting feed out for the pheasants. At cocktail hour we will be able to enjoy seeing the bravest of the pheasants from the veranda. He looks up at mormor and I and he jokes "are you two just sitting there doing nothing again?" My grandmother never had an idle moment in her life, but she goes along with it "yes, yes, we must be getting busy now" and she smiles. Together we get up from our chairs and I follow her through the formal living room, through the very long dining room, where your feet always sound really loud no matter what shoes you wear, because the change from the deep soft quiet carpet in the living room to the highly polished old parquet floor in the dining room always represents such a contrast. I help her check on the dough...it has risen enough, so we can now put it in the oven....

My pen keeps going over her handwriting and I think to myself that perhaps she would appreciate the effort of keeping her recipes alive......or would she have found it silly and a waste of time? Would she have said to just look it up on the internet? I don't know, I won't know, but I have such a strong sensation that this is something I MUST do, so I plug along and I relish the memories that follow.