I’ve Never Missed It!

February 19, 1994

I am referring to lutefisk. Twice in the last six days, I've had occasion to remember it. At Sunday lunch, Ruth and Karl Schwebke and I were talking pronunciation. My Swedish family pronounced the word lute-fisk (two syllables). However, some persons, including my son-in-law Ron, pronounce it lute-eh-fisk (three syllables). Ruth cleared that up for me by informing me that lute-eh-fisk (three syllables) was the Norwegian pronunciation and lute-fisk (two syllables) was the Swedish pronunciation.

Through the years I have gathered there was (is?) some hostility between Norway and Sweden, even though in historical terms they were one country until 1905 when Norway became an independent constitutional monarchy. I remember a friend of more than fifty years ago, Bill Driver, who would tease me, “ten thousand Swedes ran through the weeds pursued by one Norwegian.” Bill was wrong. Actually there were only nine thousand Swedes and there were three Norwegians.

The second time lutefisk swam into my consciousness was today in [the column by] Dave Barry, the witty humor writer, who is in Norway for the Winter Olympic Games. He described his experience of a lutefisk meal. Apparently there was some difficulty in procuring the codfish. When it [is] served, he notes, “it (lutefisk) has a jelly-like texture and is served in quivering white slabs which contain bones. It has a distinct aroma. Not quite as distinct as wolf urine, but definitely headed that way.”

Barry concludes, “Maybe it was all a prank. Maybe the Norwegians are just pretending that there’s such a dish as ‘lutefisk’ to see if any American journalists are stupid enough to believe them.”

No, Mr. Barry, there is such a dish; I’ve eaten it as a child and as a young adult.

Just about Thanksgiving time each year, my Aunt Florence would start preparing the codfish for Yule serving. The codfish was heavily salted and hard as a board – about the shape of a ½” x 12” x 2’ board as I recall. The salt cod was soaked in lye (that astonished Dave Barry). After repeated soakings in lye and rinsings in cold water, the fish was ready for cooking and serving. Dave Barry was correct in his description – it was jelly-like and served with a cream sauce (not bacon grease as Barry indicates). The taste quite bland as I remember it. My then wife, experiencing lutefisk for the first time, labeled it “disgusting.”

I have no memory of how much or how little the lutefisk was appreciated by the numerous Swedish relatives who gathered at Aunt Florence and Uncle John’s for Yule feasting. But I have NEVER missed lutefisk or had the slightest hunger for it; and I surmise Dave Barry will never order it again.

P.S. In today’s (February 20) Tampa Tribune, there was a feature article by J. D. Considine, dealing with Norwegian and Swedish humor. Of course he has several paragraphs dealing with lutefisk. For example, “Lutefisk’s qualities are hard to describe in mere words,” writes John Louis Anderson in “Scandinavian humor and other myths.” “At least in decent words. It’s surprising that the word ‘lutefisk’ hasn’t become an expletive itself.... Some have compared lutefisk to dish towels soaked in fish sweat, while others have suggested that it’s more like lumpy, cod-liver-oil flavored Jello. Nearly everybody agrees that it stinks.”