Lefse

When I was a little girl, my mother always made lefse for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. We all loved her lefse. I don't know why I never I never once helped her make it. Perhaps it's because it's such a messy, irritating process that having a little girl in the kitchen would have driven her over the edge, or at least out of the kitchen.

Yesterday, talking to mom, I learned that she and her brother, Uncle Gordon, are going to Sally's house today for a lefse party. As many family members as are available go to Sally's and work together to make the lefse. I don't know if it's a longing for lefse, or a longing for family, but I woke up this morning with the urge to make my own lefse.

I vaguely remember making lefse twice in my life. Once was when Taylor and I lived in Missoula, Montana. It was at that point that I actually bought a lefse rolling pin, and the stick one needs to turn the lefse. It was a horrible mess and the lefse wasn't too good.

I also made it when we lived in Olympia, Washingtion and the children were little. I think I only tried it once and found it so messy and irritating that it was much easier to have my mother make it and bring it to the house.

Now, at least 30 years later, living in the Philadelphia area and no family in sight, I'm craving lefse. Maybe I'm also craving the family. Since I can't join the family, I'll have to make lefse myself. So, first thing this morning I went to the grocery store and bought my supplies: 4 large russet potatoes and flour. I forgot the cream.

I got out my recipe book, Farm Recipes and Food Secrets from the Norske Nook, and my mom's typed up version of the recipe from her mother.

First, I boiled the potatoes. Then I immediately wondered if I should put them through the food mill hot or cold. Not having a clue I called my cousin Sally. Sally had gone to work, but her sister Rose was visiting from California and was there starting to boil potatoes for the lefse party. Rose informed me that I needed to mill the potatoes while they're warm, but it would be better if I had a ricer. Well, I don't have a ricer and wasn't about to run around town looking for one now so we both agreed I could use the food mill.

It was good I called her on many levels. The first reason is because it was great to catch up with her. The other reason is because her recipe was different from the Norkse Nook. She said, "Don't bother with the cream - you won't need it." She was right. She also mentioned a special lefse griddle, which I don't have. She did think that our pancake griddle would be fine. I had originally thought of using my cast iron griddle, but the electric pancake griddle did the job just fine.

Back to the recipe. I put the potatoes through the food mill, and with each batch I added a tablespoon of butter which melted into the potatoes. Then I let the potato mix sit until cool. Rose gave me this hint or I probably would have started rolling out the lefse right then and there and would have had an even messier mess. When the potatoes were cool, I added 1/2 cup flour and mixed it up with my hands. Then I put at least 1/2 cup flour on the counter, divided the dough into 12 balls and started rolling. In the meantime I turned our pancake griddle on to 375.

The first one I rolled stuck to the counter. More flour. The second time I rolled the first one, it broke on the way to the griddle which was inches away from the griddle. I decided to cook it anyway so I could do a taste test. It seemed to take forever to cook - Norske Nook said one minute per side, or until the lefse bubbled. Let me tell you, my lefse needed much more than one minute, and the first side never bubbled. The second side did do some bubbling however. At this point I tasted it. Not bad, but not as good as I remembered from childhood. Ah, I forgot to put butter on it. Butter improves things.

I soldiered on and sure enough, the lefse started looking better and better. After a while it didn't break when I put it on the griddle and I learned to leave it alone until the bottom was slightly browned. After the first turn, I learned to leave the lefse until it bubbled and the other side was slightly browned.

In the midst of all this lefse making, my sister-cousin Maren, from Napa, called. Speaker phone is a wonderful thing. We talked while I rolled and cooked. At one point, hearing the frustration in my voice, she suggested that I throw the whole mess out and start over, but that would require another trip to the store. I had too much committed to this particular batch of glop. So, I carried on and she and I had a great conversation.

I'm finally done. I've got 12 pieces of lefse, which considering I've got quite a bit in my stomach, is a respectable amount of the treasured stuff. This may not be the best lefse ever, but it will do for now. Perhaps if I make it on a yearly basis it will get easier and better.

Now, I wonder how things are going in Auburn at Sally's house. I'm sure their lefse is divine - what with all those experts working on it. I'm sure they are also having a great time just being together. Here in Philly, I made my lefse and I got to talk to two cousins, so I had my own version of a lefse party. A job well done.