Scandinavian

A simple beef stew with some guts. If you can get your hands on fresh horseradish, substitute peeled 1/4-inch-thick slices of it for about half the potatoes; it develops a mild flavor and pleasant texture as it cooks. (Horseradish loses most of its harshness with heat; that’s why you do not add the prepared horseradish until the last few minutes of cooking.) Other cuts of meat you can use here: lamb or veal shoulder.

Lamb stew is a quintessential spring dish that can be a real celebration—or unbearably heavy. The difference has little to do with the lamb and much to do with the vegetables: If the stew sports color and lots of different flavors, it is lovely, almost light. If, on the other hand, it contains little besides lamb and potatoes, it becomes the cafeteria-style “Irish stew” that gave the dish a bad name in the first place. This is how it’s done in Scandinavia—bright, colorful, and fresh tasting. In other parts of northern Europe, parsley might be substituted for the dill; it’s just as good. Other cuts of meat you can use here: beef chuck or brisket (which will require somewhat longer cooking time), veal shoulder.

Even more so than most other people in the world with access to refined sugar, the Swedes and their fellow Scandinavians incorporate it into the most unlikely dishes. In this one, the caramel is not cooked until it becomes strongly bitter, but just slightly so. The butter then mellows it out. Not exactly health food by today’s standards, but a glorious side dish at any feast.

Scandinavia has more food celebrations than any place I’ve ever been, with a special food for every occasion. On St. Lucia Day—twelve days before Christmas—it’s almost imperative to eat a couple of these delicious buns, but most people would happily wolf them down any other day of the year as well. Great for breakfast or as a midmorning or afternoon snack.

I thought Lent was a time of self-denial, but in Sweden it’s when these absolutely delicious buns appear, filled with almond paste and whipped cream. They certainly could be served as dessert, but in Sweden people eat them as a midmorning or midafternoon snack.

Practically ubiquitous in Sweden and wonderful with cold vegetables, gravlax, cold meats, and sandwiches. You can leave it fairly thick and use it as a dip or thin it as much as you like to make it a little more saucy or even as thin as a salad dressing.

Berries are a big deal in Scandinavia. The farther north you go, the more precious they become. They are not only enjoyed fresh and preserved; they are celebrated, almost worshiped. This Jell-O-like dessert is a beaut.

It seems every country that grows rice makes rice pudding, and almost every experienced cook has his or her own technique. After years of playing with it, this is the one I like best, and it works well with the variations of most cuisines. In many cases rice pudding is simply milk bound by rice; often the amount of rice is well under 10 percent of the total. I prefer this recipe with just 1/4 cup, no more. The result is a thick milk custard with a recognizable but understated rice presence. If you want a dense and slightly chewier mixture, use the larger amount of rice. Other possible additions to rice pudding: a strip of lemon zest, a pinch of saffron threads, or a teaspoon of ground cardamom added at the beginning; a couple of tablespoons of raisins and/or slivered pistachios stirred in at the end. See the variations, and the following recipes, too—this group of recipes is unending.

Where to put a recipe like this? The Swedes eat these pancakes as dessert, but my guess is that 90 percent of Americans who make them will consume them before noon, as breakfast or a brunch dish. Though I’m in that 90 percent, these are undeniably sweet enough for postmeal status. There is a special pan for these, with small depressions, so you can make your pancakes the appropriate size. But using a tablespoon works almost as well. Serve them with confectioners’ sugar, applesauce, lingonberry preserves or any other jam, ice cream, sour cream, yogurt, or whipped cream. Or try an assortment.

Tuiles are better known, but the same cookies are popular in Sweden. You can make them without almonds, but unless you have allergies I don’t know why you would. Great alone or with ice cream or fruit.

In general, these are milder than Italian-style meatballs (Polpette, page 53), with cooked onion and no garlic or cheese. Often served with a cream sauce (and lingonberries), they can be made without one, skewered on toothpicks, and passed at parties. A combination of pork, veal, and beef is best here, but if I had to choose only one meat it would unquestionably be pork.

This combination of crusty potatoes and salty anchovies will either appeal to you enormously or make no sense. One of the best-known dishes in Sweden, it’s served at almost every holiday party—logically, if you ask me, because it’s great snack food. It makes a good side dish for a hearty roast as well.

This is my cross-cultural take on a frequently served Swedish snack. If you’re making the North African mantecaos specifically for this dish, you might omit the cumin, but I think they’re more interesting with it. You can also make these with standard biscuits, in which case they’re pretty simple.

In Sweden these little fish “sandwiches” are made with Baltic herring, but you can make them with any small fish from which you can remove the backbone, such as smelts, anchovies, and sardines (the names of all of these fish are confused anyway—many true herring and anchovies are called sardines and vice versa). To bone these fish, grasp the head and pull straight down; most of the innards will come out along with it; use your thumb to open the fish up from the front, then grasp the backbone and remove. You’ll be left with two tiny fillets joined by the skin. Plan to make eight of these—four sandwiches—for each serving if you make them as a main course.

The hardest part of this dish, these days, is finding fresh herring—which is astonishing, because a large percentage of the world’s supply is caught off our shores and shipped elsewhere. In the countries bordering the North Sea, however, it is celebrated, and if you can find it here—it’s in fish markets from time to time—this is a great treatment, an essential part of any smorgasbord, but also wonderful served with sour cream (“creamed herring”) and boiled potatoes. If the herring is whole, ask your fishmonger to fillet it for you.

One of the simplest and most impressive cured dishes and certainly the king of cured fish. Speaking of king, if you can find wild Pacific salmon (usually spring through fall), especially king or sockeye, use it; if not, farm-raised salmon is quite good when treated this way. In fact, farm-raised salmon is a pretty good option—because it is harvested and shipped to stores daily it’s usually perfectly fresh, a requisite for all salmon you’d consider using for gravlax. Generally, gravlax is ready within 24 hours, but it’s better after a little longer than that, and you can hold it for another couple of days before serving if you like; it will become increasingly dry and strong flavored, not a bad thing. In any case, treat finished gravlax as a fresh food and use it within a few days.

This recipe was found in a handwritten Swedish cookbook, dated about 1864, belonging to Countess Frida Af Trampe. This was said to be her favorite cookie. Ingrid Albertzon Parker, who is Swedish, took the time to translate this recipe into American measurements. I had the pleasure of having Ingrid come into my kitchen one afternoon to teach me the art of making these buttery little morsels. They are really very simple to make. The optional Cognac and shaved chocolate were added by Ingrid.

This is a fluffy eggless rice pudding scented with sherry and almonds. My mom usually serves it with fresh raspberries, which is the perfect choice when they’re in season. But I like it all year round, so I like to make a sauce with dried cherries, which have a similar sweet-tart quality. It is lovely served in elegant stemmed glasses with the sauce spooned over the top. My mom still makes this pudding every year for my birthday. Thanks, Mom!

Impress your Jewish grandma with gravlax, or just impress yourself. Actually, my Nana preferred the cold-smoked cousin, lox, but gravlax is an incredibly easy, positively delicious way to cure salmon. The name comes from any number of Nordic fish dishes inspired by the openly morbid technique of burying in the ground (grave) your salmon (lax) with some salt cure. I like this dish because it yields a particularly moist, delicate, and lightly salted gravlax, since the salinity of the salt block does not migrate as readily into the fish flesh as a packed cure of loose salt. Also, because you don’t need plates and weights, and because the salt blocks can be reused over and over again, the method boasts a certain elegance and economy of tools. See page 267 for more about salt blocks.

This recipe was found in a handwritten Swedish cookbook, dated about 1864, belonging to Countess Frida Af Trampe. This was said to be her favorite cookie. Ingrid Albertzon Parker, who is Swedish, took the time to translate this recipe into American measurements. I had the pleasure of having Ingrid come into my kitchen one afternoon to teach me the art of making these buttery little morsels. They are really very simple to make. The optional Cognac and shaved chocolate were added by Ingrid.

Thin, buttery, and delicate, these fall somewhere between crêpes and American pancakes. It’s traditional to eat Swedish pancakes topped with lingonberries (or lingonberry jam) or another tart berry, a slice of lemon to squeeze on the pancake, and confectioners’ sugar. These pancakes cook quickly because they’re so thin. In fact, they’re so thin that most guests will want three or four. Serve with your choice of herrings (page 196) or Smoked Salmon (page 191).

This is an old-fashioned recipe from Sweden, often baked during Christmastime. Although Swedish cuisine may be unfamiliar to most of us outside of Scandinavia, these cookies will probably taste familiar. Cardamom is the predominant spice in masala chai, the warming, aromatic tea sold by street vendors called “chai wallahs” throughout South Asia, and now also sold at Starbucks around the world, packaged as chai latte. But whether it’s Starbucks, Stockholm, or India, these cookies from way up north taste like the holidays to me.

This is a special bread/cake that Danes like to make for the holiday season. It’s a quick version of flaky Danish pastry.