*Remember this is not a recent article so don't run to the church event as this year the event was held in December and the price went up a whole dollar for adults. If you go to their website you can see their calendar of events.
VANISHING WISCONSIN
Labor of lefse keeps tradition rolling
Factories pick up where Norwegian grandmas left off
Mark Hoffman
Sharon Seifert flips lefse on a grill while her co-workers roll the dough at Countryside Lefse in Blair, Wis. About a dozen people peel potatoes, mix dough and hand roll the flatbread at the company, which started in 1965.
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| Mark Hoffman |
See how lefse is made using traditional Norwegian techniques. Watch video.
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About This Series
This story is part of "Vanishing Wisconsin," an occasional series that takes a closer look at traditions, occupations, cultures and icons that make up the fabric of Wisconsin life but are on the verge of disappearing.
If you have an idea, please contact Mark Hoffman at mhoffman@journalsentinel.com.
Blair - It's not the smell of traditional Norwegian lefse-making that first strikes visitors to the Countryside Lefse factory.
It's the sound - the thump, thump, thump of women whomping rolling pins across potato dough, followed by the synchronized flipping of tortilla-like flatbread on hot griddles. It's a dizzying holiday production that dates back decades, if not centuries, in Norwegian communities such as this one halfway between La Crosse and Eau Claire.
What has changed over time is who makes the lefse each fall, after the potato harvest. It used to be Norwegian mothers and grandmothers stooped over kitchen counters in home kitchens. Today, small companies such as Countryside Lefse carry on the tradition for those who don't have time to make their own lefse.
Even some Lutheran churches that have hosted annual lutefisk dinners longer than anyone can remember now buy lefse because they can't recruit enough members to roll, bake and pass the lefse-turning stick from generation to generation.
A few lefse-makers at Countryside Lefse are Norwegian, and proud of it. Others admit they didn't know what lefse was until they started rolling and baking it. Regardless of ethnic background, they take their labor-intensive craft seriously.
"Every one of them has a unique style, like baseball players," said the mostly Norwegian owner, Marshall Olson, who runs Countryside Lefse with his wife, Amy.
Some rollers wield the rolling pin with measured oomph, while others - such as Lori Mutterer - throw their whole body into it. She can roll 85 to 100 lefse rounds per hour - each 18 inches in diameter and randomly measured by tape measure for quality control.
"During the busy season, my arms get sore, especially the first couple hours of a shift," Mutterer said. "By the time I get home, my body's just drained."
'It's all about the feel'
A full-blooded Norwegian, Mutterer grew up eating her own mother's lefse, slathered with butter and sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. "We weren't allowed in the kitchen; it was my mom's space," Mutterer said. "I'll ask her now for a recipe, and she says it's all about the feel. The recipe is in her head. She just turned 86, and she still makes lefse."
Mutterer's arms may get tired, but imagine how Sharon Seifert's feet feel after eight hours in perpetual motion, walking back and forth along a 14- to 16-foot griddle, flipping one lefse after another with a special lefse stick.
"The hardest part of my job is making sure it doesn't burn," said Seifert, who has thought about wearing a pedometer, but doesn't really want to know how many miles she clocks a day.
Seifert is Danish and German, and didn't know what lefse was until she started working here three years ago. Now she helps serve lefse at the annual First Lutheran Church lutefisk dinner in Blair, which features her employer's lefse. At home, Seifert enjoys lefse as a wrap for hot dogs.
Peggy Baker has worn out many pairs of shoes dashing along the lefse griddle, turning lefse. "On Fridays, I soak my feet," she said. "I know how fast these women roll because my feet tell me."
Darlene Wagner is the fastest. She used to roll 140 lefse per hour, but at age 58 has slowed to 100.
"Your shoes get so full of flour and you can't get it out," Baker said. "When I get off work, I shake my clothes outside and beat my shoes together. I've also walked into the grocery store and people will say I smell like burnt toast."
The town of Blair used to be 100% Norwegian. Not anymore, though Countryside Lefse still flavors the town and ramps up production in November and December to meet local and regional holiday demand. The company employs 30 at peak season.
Other lefse factories around the Midwest may make lefse with machines and instant potatoes. Not this one.
"You have to use real potatoes, and roll it out by hand," said Marshall Olson, whose father started Countryside Lefse in 1965.
New life for old potatoes
Lefse originated in frugal times. Norwegians traditionally ate a lot of potatoes, especially in fall and winter. They would rice or mash the leftover potatoes to make lefse bread.
Many Norwegians believe lefse helped sustain the Vikings on long sea voyages. But potatoes weren't introduced to Norway until 250 years ago, according to the Web site of a competing lefse company, Lefse Time in Fountain City, west of Blair.
Norway's devastating potato famine in the mid-1800s prompted many Norwegians to immigrate to the United States. They brought along family recipes, griddles, mashers and rolling pins.
The basic recipe of mashed or riced potatoes, flour and salt has many subtle twists, depending on the family. Some lefse-makers add milk, heavy cream, shortening, butter or sugar. Noted American foodie James Beard used corn syrup, buttermilk and cardamom. It also varies in thickness from a cake-like bread to a thick, hearty flatbread, to a thin, almost tortilla-like bread.
Countryside Lefse's recipe begins with russet potatoes from west-central and northern Wisconsin. Salt is added to taste, along with soybean oil, nonfat dry milk and water to adjust for moisture in the potatoes. Countryside Lefse rolls lefse for several private labels, including Hungry Troll, Grandma Ruth's, Mrs. Jerry's and Olsen's (not to be confused with Mrs. Olson's of Minnesota).
In the Milwaukee area, Woodman's in Oak Creek carries the Hungry Troll brand.
Thin lefse often is served loaded with butter, cinnamon sugar, brown sugar or lingonberry jelly, and then rolled up like a crepe.
Some fill it with eggs, sausage and cheese for a breakfast burrito. Others spread peanut butter and jelly, or a thin layer of peanut butter and sugar, before rolling it.
Blair roots span 40 years
Countryside Lefse started in the basement of a drive-in, and then moved to a bigger building in downtown Blair in the late 1960s to keep up with demand as women shifted to jobs outside the home. The downtown location, destroyed by fire five years ago, was replaced by a new lefse plant at the edge of town.
The company produces lefse year-round for grocery stores and west-central Wisconsin restaurants such as Norske Nook, which specializes in home-style pies and Scandinavian cooking. The Norske Nook uses lefse for its Swedish meatball wraps at restaurants in Osseo, Rice Lake and Hayward.
If you attend a Lutheran church lutefisk dinner, you may roll lutefisk (lye-soaked cod) inside your lefse.
But only if you want to.
Now that you know how it's made . . .
If you've been craving the lefse you grew up with, or would like to try it for the first time, here's your chance.
St. Olaf Lutheran Church, one of the oldest Norwegian Lutheran churches in Wisconsin, is hosting its annual lutefisk dinner and bake sale Wednesday from 2 to 7 p.m. Cost is $14 for adults and $7 for children ages 5 to 10.
The country church is in the Town of Ashippun, about two miles from where Washington, Waukesha and Dodge counties intersect.
The dinner includes steamed lutefisk (cod) with melted butter, "St. Olaf's famous Swedish meatballs," mashed potatoes and gravy, rutabagas, festive cranberry salad, fruit soup, green beans, beets and lefse rolled and baked by church members. Homemade Scandinavian and holiday cookies round out the meal, along with rolls, coffee and milk.
"We've had the lutefisk dinner here for more than 50 years," said member Elaine Monis, part of the church's lefse-making team that included people of all ages. "We try to duplicate an ethnic Norwegian holiday meal. We usually serve 600 to 700 people."
The church is on Roosevelt Road and Highway O, north of Oconomowoc and south of Hartford.
For more information on the dinner, check out the church Web site:www.st-olaf.org.
About Karen Herzog
Karen Herzog covers higher education. She also has covered public health and was part of a national award-winning team that took on Milwaukee's infant mortality crisis.
The Blair lefse is the best - I used to look for it at Festival Foods during the holiday times. Actually, the best lefse is probably the lefse my cousin makes in Texas, following the old family recipe and their tools.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great article. I grew up eating Lefse but never got the hang of lutefisk, although my brother seeks it out wherever he can. I sent him a copy of your blog today - thanks!
ReplyDelete