You either love it or hate it. A feast of our Swedish heritage, I don't ever remember a time when I didn't like lutefisk. Perhaps Mom is to blame with her no nonsense "You WILL eat everything on your plate" directives. Whatever the case, we grew up looking forward to the 2 times a year when we could have lutefisk.
The first happened early in October when our church hosted its annual lutefisk feed as a fund raiser. There were meatballs for those non fish lovers but I don't recall ever eating them. I went straight for the fish. Served family style, you had to be quick to grab the bowl or wait until it was refilled. I heaped plenty on my plate, not too concerned about saving some for the other diners, as there were plenty of waitresses to refill the bowls. We always ate early on lutefisk nights as then Dad would take us home and Mom would take her place in the kitchen helping out wherever she was needed for the rest of the evening.
There are many ways to eat lutefisk, but I prefer it with "the works". You need a few requisite boiled potatoes sitting next to the fish on your plate. Then smother the whole plate with white cream sauce. Next, pour melted butter over the top allowing some to pool in the pockets of cream sauce. Top it liberally with black pepper. Lutefisk is best when served with unlimited churchmade lefse, rolled to perfection. There are still plenty of churches that offer the annual feast but looking around, I see younger generations are missing.
Most do not want to cook lutefisk at home, because the aroma is decidedly "fishy". Throughout my childhood, Dad would bring home the unreconstituted fish in a large dried slab. Mom would soak it in the sink for several days, changing the water as the fish finally began to take on the look of plump lutefisk. This was always the Christmas Eve meal in our house. For those guests who didn't like lutefisk, (my German Grandfather) Mom served some of Dad's freshly made potato sausage. It was always a difficult pick as I liked them both equally well but usually settled on the lutefisk. Mom would cook it by wrapping it in cheesecloth and lowering it in boiling water until cooked to perfection. Sadly, one Christmas Eve, the fish disintegrated before her very eyes until there was nothing to serve but the potato sausage. Very disappointing.
Years later, my Dad became a snowbird and wintered in Arizona, far away from the northern climes of snow and ice. He missed having lutefisk as it was not available. With the internet, I was able to locate a company that would not only ship a small quantity but also would include lefse! A perfect Christmas gift for several years. The fish was top notch as I also ordered some for myself.
Yes, we celebrate our Swedish heritage with lutefisk, but have not been able to pass our love of the fish to the next generation. We may be the last generation of lutefisk lovers.
