I loved my visit to Oslo so much that I just had to write another blog about it. Exploring my desire to be a food journalist (combining my two great loves – eating and writing), and inspired by a birthday present from my roomie (Will Write for Food: The Complete Guide to Writing Cookbooks, Restaurant Reviews, Articles, Memoir, Fiction and More), I want to expand on the distinctive food produced in Norway and the growing reputation of Scandinavia’s hot young chefs.
Beginning in the early ‘90s, Norwegians began to take their place among the most brilliant culinary talents in Europe. The first Norwegian to win the Bocuse d’Or (known as the Concours mondial de la cuisine and frequently referred to as the culinary equivalent of the Olympic Games), was Bent Stiansen in 1993. At the time his win came as a surprise, since the gastronomy tradition of the Scandinavian countries was not as reputed as that of France or Italy. In 2011, the gold, silver and bronze prizes went to Denmark, Sweden and Norway, respectively, cementing northern Europe’s reputation as a producer of outstanding culinary talent.
Restaurants like Feinschmecker, Haga, Oscargate, Statholdergaarden, Oro Bar & Grill, and Restaurant Elk all appear in the Michelin guide today. So a country known as the birthplace of cross-country skiing, Edvard Munch and the Nobel Peace prize, is now also where gastro-enthusiasts will find some of the northern hemisphere’s most adventurous meat and fish dishes. Dried, smoked, salted and fermented, the ways that Norwegians prepare their cod, elk, lamb, trout, reindeer, ham and salmon is plentiful and adventurous.
Like its much larger neighbour to the West, Norway offers snowy mountains, rustic wilderness and a rugged coastline. And also like Canada, the Scandinavian country has a strong focus on game and fish when it comes to local produce.
To find all this produce under one roof I decided to check out Fenaknoken, a traditional food shop recently featured in Conde Nast Traveller. Walking past Oslo’s city hall, the Nobel Peace Centre and the Oslofjord, I found myself at the door of a rustic mountain cabin (or hut as the Norwegians call it) with a stuffed elk nearly licking the side of my face and wooden cross-country skis leaning against the wall. Unbeknown to me, my cousin Kirsti told owner Eirick Braek that I was a Canadian journalist, and he immediately began to pass out pieces of dried mutton, elk, reindeer, goat sausage and ham. (Unfortunately for me, Eirick was all out of bear meat.) Besides its specialties such as fenalår – a salted and cured leg of lamb that Braek held up and announced is shaped like the map of Norway – the shop sells locally produced cheeses, homemade jams (rowan berry jelly), flat bread, dried fruits, and fish of all variety. It is an absolute must-visit if you ever get to Norway.
Other fish dishes that are popular in the country are smoked salmon, dried codfish, salted stockfish, rakfish (disturbingly foul fermented trout that locals see as a delicacy), crabs, lobster and mussels. Traditional fish dishes are torsk, a poached cod served very simply with boiled potatoes and melted butter, and torsketunger, cod’s tongue. Lutefisk is another popular preparation made of stockfish (dried cod or ling) or klippfisk (dried and salted cod) that has been steeped in lye. Fiskesuppe, or fish soup, is a white, milk-based soup with vegetables like carrots, onions, potato and various kinds of fish. The Norwegians also enjoy pickled herring, or sursild, which is often served as an appetizer or on rye bread as a lunch staple.
In terms of game, Norway produces a lot of lamb, moose, reindeer, duck and fowl. Preserved meat and sausages come in a staggering variety of regional varieties, and are accompanied by sour cream dishes or crushed juniper berries on the side.
Traditional meatballs, or kjottkaker, are simpler than the Swedish variety and served in a brown sauce rather than a cream sauce. Farikal, a mutton stew, is mutton and cabbage layered in a deep pot along with black pepper, salt and some wheat flour to thicken the sauce.
Since I was only in Norway for three days I didn’t get to try even a small percentage of the exploratory cuisine that the country has to offer or eat in more than one of the dozens of restaurants that are now regularly rated among the best across Europe. Lucky for me, I have lovely and accommodating family in Norway, and loved it so much I will certainly go back, so there is plenty of time for more adventurous eating ahead.
Monday 21 March 2011
Sunday 6 March 2011
Winter Wonderland in Norway
I have been physically aching for the snow. This might be hard to believe if you are in Canada, buried under it and longing for the Spring thaw, or in London, where a couple of snowfalls have crippled the city, but I am a winter lover through and through and what is referred to as winter over here is just not cutting it.
So I landed in Norway last Thursday for a long weekend of winter. I didn’t know quite what to expect of my first visit to the Scandinavian countries but, on my express bus ride from Rygge airport – diverted from Torp due to weather conditions and poor visibility – to Oslo, I gazed out at snow-capped mountains and white landscapes dotted with colourful cabins, and I fantasized that I was in Canada.
Though I didn’t plan it, my visit coincided with the 2011 World Nordic Ski Championships at the famous Holmenkommen. The city was filled with cross-country ski enthusiasts from all over Europe – and even Canada. Flags were waved in the streets, tourists and locals packed onto the subway with their skis, and there was a general patriotic atmosphere everywhere we went.
I was finally paying a visit to my Norwegian cousins who I met for the first time in the UK at Easter last year and then again in Tiree in August. I was staying with Kirsti and Henning and their sons Martin (9) and Jonathan (7). Kirsti is the daughter of my grandfather’s first cousin Liz, who is also from the same brood of cousins as Pearl and Mary. Liz met Norwegian Paul at university in Glasgow and has been living in the country since she was 22 (she was 70 last year).
My weekend in Oslo included more than just the snow appreciation that I want to write about here. I visited the Munch Museum, the Vegland sculpture park, the Nobel Prize Centre, and wandered along the Oslofjord. Besides the most incredible Nordic ski of my life, which I will get to in a minute, my favourite stop of the weekend was to Fenaknoken, a traditional Norwegian food shop that I had read about in Conde Nast Traveller, and where I sampled some truly unbelievable dried, smoked and salted meats. (I want to write a separate blog about the food in Norway as a hone my skills as a food journalist, so stay tuned.)
But best of all was the skiing. Oh the skiing. I have been in love with cross-country skiing since I was about five. Since then I have been skiing annually with my father in the Gatineau Hills. This past Christmas I was able to squeeze in one of our traditional skis but the days were warming up and the snow was melting. I loved spending that one morning in the woods over the holidays with the echoes off the snow but the conditions were not perfect. Up at Ullevalseter in Oslo, despite the crowds that had descended for the championships, I had the most perfect ski of my life.
Well, if I’m being completely honest, one thing was missing. My Dad. With my borrowed Fischers on, gliding out across the immaculately manicured snow with evergreens towering and shaking their snowflakes down on me, I got choked up. Okay, I cried. I wished my Dad were skiing right beside me. He would have adored that day. I’ll admit, I don’t get homesick very often, but this weekend, I really missed Canada.
We did 11km, the first half almost completely uphill, then we sunned ourselves (yes, I have a lovely winter face burn) outside a chalet with coffees and sweet buns, before precariously making our way downhill. I am pleased to say I only wiped out twice (I have the world’s worst snowplow) but it would have been much more if I hadn’t stuck to the lakes on the return journey.
As I don’t get to keep my cross-country ski muscles in shape, I am feeling all sorts of random aches today. There is a sharp pain on the top of my forearms, shooting along my inner thighs, my butt, my lower back, my hips, my shoulder blades, all around my ribs from sustaining balance, basically everywhere. But I have to say, to subdue that ache I’ve been feeling lately for the snow, all those other aches are well worth it.
So I landed in Norway last Thursday for a long weekend of winter. I didn’t know quite what to expect of my first visit to the Scandinavian countries but, on my express bus ride from Rygge airport – diverted from Torp due to weather conditions and poor visibility – to Oslo, I gazed out at snow-capped mountains and white landscapes dotted with colourful cabins, and I fantasized that I was in Canada.
Though I didn’t plan it, my visit coincided with the 2011 World Nordic Ski Championships at the famous Holmenkommen. The city was filled with cross-country ski enthusiasts from all over Europe – and even Canada. Flags were waved in the streets, tourists and locals packed onto the subway with their skis, and there was a general patriotic atmosphere everywhere we went.
I was finally paying a visit to my Norwegian cousins who I met for the first time in the UK at Easter last year and then again in Tiree in August. I was staying with Kirsti and Henning and their sons Martin (9) and Jonathan (7). Kirsti is the daughter of my grandfather’s first cousin Liz, who is also from the same brood of cousins as Pearl and Mary. Liz met Norwegian Paul at university in Glasgow and has been living in the country since she was 22 (she was 70 last year).
My weekend in Oslo included more than just the snow appreciation that I want to write about here. I visited the Munch Museum, the Vegland sculpture park, the Nobel Prize Centre, and wandered along the Oslofjord. Besides the most incredible Nordic ski of my life, which I will get to in a minute, my favourite stop of the weekend was to Fenaknoken, a traditional Norwegian food shop that I had read about in Conde Nast Traveller, and where I sampled some truly unbelievable dried, smoked and salted meats. (I want to write a separate blog about the food in Norway as a hone my skills as a food journalist, so stay tuned.)
But best of all was the skiing. Oh the skiing. I have been in love with cross-country skiing since I was about five. Since then I have been skiing annually with my father in the Gatineau Hills. This past Christmas I was able to squeeze in one of our traditional skis but the days were warming up and the snow was melting. I loved spending that one morning in the woods over the holidays with the echoes off the snow but the conditions were not perfect. Up at Ullevalseter in Oslo, despite the crowds that had descended for the championships, I had the most perfect ski of my life.
Well, if I’m being completely honest, one thing was missing. My Dad. With my borrowed Fischers on, gliding out across the immaculately manicured snow with evergreens towering and shaking their snowflakes down on me, I got choked up. Okay, I cried. I wished my Dad were skiing right beside me. He would have adored that day. I’ll admit, I don’t get homesick very often, but this weekend, I really missed Canada.
We did 11km, the first half almost completely uphill, then we sunned ourselves (yes, I have a lovely winter face burn) outside a chalet with coffees and sweet buns, before precariously making our way downhill. I am pleased to say I only wiped out twice (I have the world’s worst snowplow) but it would have been much more if I hadn’t stuck to the lakes on the return journey.
As I don’t get to keep my cross-country ski muscles in shape, I am feeling all sorts of random aches today. There is a sharp pain on the top of my forearms, shooting along my inner thighs, my butt, my lower back, my hips, my shoulder blades, all around my ribs from sustaining balance, basically everywhere. But I have to say, to subdue that ache I’ve been feeling lately for the snow, all those other aches are well worth it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
