Daytona Strong's Blog, page 2

A Handful of Scandinavian Books (and Other Titles I Finished in January 2023)

To be a writer is to be a reader, and much of my work as an MFA student involves reading widely and studying elements of craft in the books that I choose. Of course, as a writer who specializes in all things Scandinavian, there’s plenty of Scandi influence here too. As January draws to a close, here are the Scandinavian books and other titles I finished reading this month.

Books by Scandinavian authors, in translation

The Bell in the Lake
by Lars Mytting
My favorite book in recent memory, this first-in-a-trilogy novel involves mythology and folklore in Norway as the people of an isolated village face changes brought in by the outside world. I’ll share a longer report on The Bell in the Lake soon; subscribe to my free weekly newsletter to be notified.

Norwegian Wood: Chopping, Stacking, and Drying Wood the Scandinavian Way
by Lars Mytting
An international bestseller, this book had caught my eye for years, and I’m glad I finally read it. Much more than a guide to the chopping, stacking, and drying of wood, it’s also a celebration of wood’s importance in Scandinavia and the way that providing heat for one’s home is at the heart of a culture.

Jellyfish Age Backwards: Nature’s Secrets to Longevity
by Nicklas Brendborg
A new release by a Danish molecular biologist, this book explores the discoveries that scientists have made from the natural world about how we might be able to someday combat aging and increase lifespans in notable ways.

Additional January reading

A Wild Sheep Chase
by Haruki Murakami
Recommended by my MFA mentor, this book by the bestselling author touches on the surreal as it tells the story of an advertising executive who meets a young woman with ears so exquisite that seeing them transforms experiences into the sublime—and from there he literally goes on a wild sheep chase.

I’m Glad My Mom Died
by Jennette McCurdy
A selection for one of my book clubs, this memoir is about a former child star whose development as a child star under her controlling, abusive mother wrecked her childhood. Breaking through drinking and years of eating disorders, McCurdy has managed to reclaim her life and shares her struggles and successes with honesty.

The Violin Conspiracy
by Brendan Slocumb
Author Brendan Slocumb was advised by his agent to write what he knows, so he drew from his own life as a black classical musician in a field that’s predominantly white to tell the story of a young violinist on the path to international stardom when his $10 million Stradivarius violin is stolen. The audiobook narrated by JD Jackson is fantastic.

Olga Dies Dreaming
by Xochitl Gonzalez
The selection for my other book club, this multilayered book involves a wedding planner to New York’s wealthiest families who finds herself in the center of her congressman brother’s politics and radical mother’s schemes when Hurricane Maria strikes Puerto Rico.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
by V.E. Schwab
The Faustian tale, oversimplified here for brevity, goes like this: Adeline wants more to life so makes a deal that allows her to live for centuries. Only, she didn’t expect the consequence: Everyone forgets her the moment she’s out of sight. Her deal with the “devil” sends her through lonely centuries until she meets someone who might just remember her.

Follow me on Goodreads for more updates throughout the year. If you love a good list of Scandinavian books or want to stay updated on the progress of the novel I’m writing, sign up for my free newsletter.

(Disclosure: Posts on this site may include Affiliate Links; click here to learn more.)

The post A Handful of Scandinavian Books (and Other Titles I Finished in January 2023) appeared first on Daytona Dawn Danielsen.

Bringing All of Life to the Page: MFA Residency in Seaside, Oregon

Fifteen years ago I dreamed of going back to school. I’d pursue a Master in Fine Arts and become a novelist. I began my second semester earlier this month with a 10-day MFA residency in Seaside, OR with Pacific University. With the beach the backdrop, I took in lectures and classes, participated in workshops, and made new friends. At the end of each day, I returned to the hotel to connect with my partner, who encourages me and is supportive of my vision for my life and career.

This being my first in-person residency, I came away feeling enriched and inspired in ways I could only have previously imagined. Being in the MFA program is a 15-year dream of mine, and while I’ve experienced some regrets about not doing it until now, this moment in time also feels like the one that is meant for me, particularly as I continue to rise from the ashes of my trauma that almost took my life nearly two years ago.

I mention the trauma because as I listened to the craft talks at the residency, I kept hearing about the importance of the person and about the value of one’s real-life experiences. From poet Leila Chatti’s talk about using words to honor the good in the midst of trauma to novelist Cecily Wong’s advice about living one’s life and not seeing it as an intrusion upon one’s writing, the residency helped to bridge the gap that I had constructed between what I call therapeutic writing and “real” writing. I had been afraid that my trauma appeared too often and showed up too loudly on the page, that I must find a way to “write clean.” However, I now see that I do not need to compartmentalize my writing, but rather to use all forms of my expression as a way to truth. If writing about something that touches one of my wounds brings me to weeping on the page, or if I craft a character who is experiencing a pain I’ve known intimately, perhaps there will be value to that, knowing that I’ve walked through the darkness in order to find light.

Here are some of the moments that spoke to me deeply—not just as a writer, but as a person who is a writer.

Shara McCallum’s list of questions in her talk As If Your Life Depended On It took me on a journey through the decades of my life as I considered the pieces of writing that have defined me, pierced me, and drawn me back to reread them time and time again. Though I haven’t always known or tried to understand why a particular poem, passage, or lyric has embedded itself into my heart, the process of remembering and compiling these pieces is providing a deeper sense of what moves me, delights me, or brings me to tears. It’s helping me to appreciate the deep emotional loneliness I experienced as a child, the depression I experienced yet could not name as a teenager, and the profound beauty of redemption I’ve tasted as an adult.

MFA director Scott Korb’s lecture Feeling Free introduced me to Joan Didion and Toni Morrison’s writings on self-respect and self-regard, which I’ll be exploring in more detail this semester. While my creative work for the MFA is in fiction, I also write nonfiction and am readying myself to tell a personal story of great importance to me. When I begin, it will be essential that I embrace what Didion wrote in her article “Self-respect” for Vogue in 1961: “people with self-respect have the courage of their mistakes. They know the price of things. … people with self-respect exhibit a certain toughness, a kind of moral nerve; they display what was once called character. … character—the willingness to accept responsibility for one’s own life—is the source from which self-respect springs.” It is such courage that I hope to display in my work.

I learned from poet Joseph Millar that in an elegy, a poet moves from grief to consolation, a promise that the dawn does come. This truth is one that I experienced on my own darkest night nearly two years ago, after which, in writing, I discovered that the night was indeed bathed in light.

Author Claire Davis spoke about how establishing a habit of art is about developing a new way of being in the world, one that involves the process of writing, but also learning to live more deeply. The phrase “a different way of being in the world” has been a guidepost for me ever since my spiritual director used it two years ago, and Davis’s talk has me contemplating again what this phrase means for me at this moment in my life. Certainly, I agree with what she said: that by living more deeply, the result is a better life and better art.

Poet Leila Chatti, in Praise in Hard Times, spoke about the profound healing work of the praise poem, which acknowledges the thing that makes our hearts break while allowing us to rise as we honor also what is good. She shared the way that praise links back to the divine by using the example of the medieval composer and poet Hildegard von Bingen, who despite illness believed herself blessed and devoted herself to praise, and the English mystic Julian of Norwich who, after being struck with an illness so severe she thought she would die, wrote her famous words, “all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” Indeed, studies show the benefits of having a posture of praise and gratitude, and I have experienced this in my own work of overcoming depression and the trauma that resulted in PTSD, and I was inspired listening to this crossover of writing and recovery.

Poet Mahtem Shiferraw spoke of the power of using silence as incantation—silence not as the absence of sound, but as something, perhaps like stillness, that can guide us through an entryway into reaching the truth as we write. As Shiferraw said, “Silence knows no fear”—not of trauma, nor of anything else that has happened. Rather, when we face the fear, we can find redemption. I love this. In the wake of the trauma and near loss of my life in 2021, I experienced the wisdom of this firsthand when I finally gave name to the things that had happened, sitting in the presence of the pain long enough to put into words to the things that I had wished to bury. By doing so, with my therapists and providers, I began the process of healing, experiencing for myself the redemption that Shiferraw described.

During the residency, I learned much about the craft of writing and valued the workshop experience—things I expected from the beginning. What surprised me was that the experience helped me to integrate what I had tried to compartmentalize and taught me that bringing my whole wounded-healed self to the page is what being a writer is all about. 

If you’ve been around a while, you know that in 2021 I dismantled my life, taking apart the pieces and feeling my way into a new way to life. I turned 40 and became a divorced, single mom sharing custody of my children, reviving my career, and finally entering grad school. That, along with maintaining my small business.

Life is complex, in the best ways possible. Though the days are full, they’re lifegiving as I live into my values and strive each day to show up for my people and for my dreams.

Writers will say that they feel most like themselves when they’re writing, and that’s certainly true for me. 

Grateful for all the twists and turns that it took to get to this point in life. I am truly blessed.

The post Bringing All of Life to the Page: MFA Residency in Seaside, Oregon appeared first on Daytona Dawn Danielsen.

The Tradition of Semlor, Scandinavian Shrovetide Buns

(This post is adapted from my article in .)

Baking with cardamom fills a home with the most delicious warmth, the kind of aroma that seems to be the essence of hygge. Ordinarily, a slightly sweet cardamom bun is good enough on its own, perhaps with a smear of butter. But this time of year, in the weeks leading up to Lent, these classic Scandinavian buns are stuffed with clouds of whipped cream and sometimes a rich almond filling.

Semlor as they’re called in Sweden, or Fastelavnsboller in Norway, would traditionally have been eaten during Fastelavn or Shrovetide, the days before Lent. These days people in the Nordic countries are not widely religious. But Fastelavnsboller echo the tradition, and now they’re popular throughout the months of January and February, and they’re met with enthusiasm when they start showing up in cafés and on social media.

These plump buns—sometimes flavored with cardamom, sometimes not—are served a number of different ways. Some people sandwich them simply with swirls of whipped cream and a dusting of powdered sugar. Others add a rich almond filling, and perhaps even a bit of jam. My recipe features both almond filling and whipped cream, but if you prefer yours more simple, feel free to omit the almond. It will still be delicious.

No matter how you enjoy Semlor, do yourself a favor and use freshly ground cardamom. Its fragrance and effect are far superior to the jars of pre-ground spice, and you’ll have the benefit of filling your home with the most inviting aroma.

Semlor

For the buns:
1 stick (8 tbsps.) unsalted butter
1 ¼ cup milk
2 tsps. freshly ground cardamom
2 tbsps. active dry yeast
¾ cup sugar
1 egg
½ tsp. salt
4 ½ cups flour
1 beaten egg, for brushing

For the almond filling:
1 cup blanched almonds
½ cup powdered sugar
filling from buns
3 tbsps. milk or cream
½ tsp. almond extract

lightly sweetened whipped cream, for filling
powdered sugar, for dusting

To make the buns:
Melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. Add the milk and cardamom and heat until hot but not boiling, then set aside and cool until lukewarm.

Pour a half cup or so of the lukewarm milk into a large mixing bowl and stir in the yeast and a tablespoon of the sugar. Let sit until the yeast bubbles, about 5 minutes. Pour in the remaining milk, along with the remaining sugar, egg, and salt.

Stir in the flour gradually with a wooden spoon, starting with about half of the flour and then adding a half cup or so at a time until you have a dough that’s firm and releases from the sides of the bowl. Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 10 minutes. Form it into a large ball.

Lightly grease a large bowl—you can use the same mixing bowl if you wipe it out—and plop in the dough, turning it around until it’s coated. Cover with a damp cloth and set to rise in a warm place until doubled, about 1 hour.

Preheat oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit and line two baking sheets with parchment.

Punch down the dough and shape into 12 balls, using your hands to roll them as smoothly as possible. Place them on the baking sheets with the smoothest side up. Cover with a damp towel and let rise again, this time about 20 minutes. Brush with the beaten egg.

Bake in the center of the oven, one sheet at a time, for about 10 minutes until golden on top—watch carefully, as they quickly turn too dark. Rotate if needed for even baking. If they’re browning too quickly and the insides need time, then cover the tops with a sheet of aluminum foil. Cool on a wire rack.

When the buns are cool, use a sharp knife to carefully cut the top off of each one. If you’re going to make the almond filling, then scoop out part of the inside; you can use your fingers for this, but I like to cut a circle with the knife and scoop out the bread with a grapefruit spoon. Set aside.

For the filling:
To make the almond filling, whirl the almonds in a food processor until coarsely ground. Add the powdered sugar and the reserved bread filling and pulse a few times until combined. Add the milk or cream and the almond extract and process until the filling comes together.

Evenly distribute the filling into the cavities, then pipe on a generous amount of whipped cream. Top with the bread lids, dust with powdered sugar, and serve.

Serves 12.

Find Semlor and even more sweet and savory treats in my cookbook  Modern Scandinavian Baking !

(Photo of Semlor from Canva)

The post The Tradition of Semlor, Scandinavian Shrovetide Buns appeared first on Daytona Dawn Danielsen.

Top 10 Books I Read in 2022

Year-end retrospectives can include any number of angles and focuses, and one of mine must include books read. In November, I completed my first semester of my MFA in Fiction. A large part of the program involves reading, and I’ve joked that grad school is a great excuse for spending time doing one of my favorite activities. Indeed, it gave me the opportunity to read a number of excellent books this year, including many I otherwise would not have encountered. Here are the top 10 books I read in 2022. Perhaps you’ll find a new or old favorite in this list as well.

Bittersweet: How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole by Susan Cain
Curious about why a sad song could make her feel more alive than an upbeat one, the author of the bestselling Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking embarked on an exploration of how “a bittersweet state of mind is the quiet force that helps us transcend our personal and collective pain.” As a deeply-feeling, observant, and imaginative soul, I lean toward such a bittersweet tendency and have often wondered about my own emotional responses to music, nature, and beauty. Cain’s research helped me to understand and appreciate myself and my world in a deeper way.

Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr
This book takes readers on a journey through the past, present, and future, and throughout Constantinople, Idaho, and an interstellar spaceship. It’s hard to summarize the book or give a succinct answer as to what it is about. Yet despite the seemingly disparate parts and unrelated characters, it all works—exquisitely. Cloud Cuckoo Land is a delight to read. 

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik 
A poor moneylender’s daughter who becomes the object of a Staryk lord’s desire for silver in this icy fantasy full of magic. I loved everything about this book, from the snow-covered settings to the way the women in the book determine their own worth and fight against their foes. Hooked on the author’s rich characterization and worldbuilding, I followed it up by reading her earlier book Uprooted, which has a similarly wrought world but not the degree of depth of Spinning Silver. I’ll be dipping into her Scholomance series in the coming months.

Where the Forest Meets the Stars by Glendy Vanderah 
A mysterious girl shows up outside Joanna’s cabin claiming to have come from the stars. Little Ursa is bruised and barefooted, and as Joanna and her reclusive neighbor struggle to find the truth of her traceless identity, old secrets and scars in each of their lives begin to emerge. A tender, well-told story.

Spells for Forgetting by Adrienne Young
Taking place on a fictional island in the Pacific Northwest, this book is described as “A deeply atmospheric story about ancestral magic, an unsolved murder, and a second chance at true love.” The audiobook is well worth a listen, with a cast of narrators who take turns telling their version of what happened the night that Emery Blackwood’s best friend was found dead and her teenage love accused of murdering the girl. Full of feeling and well-developed characters.

The Cartographers by Peng Shepherd
While Peng Shepherd’s books as individuals don’t necessarily rank in my favorite books of the year, discovering her as an author ranks high. Drawing from nuggets in the nooks and crannies of the world, such as mapmaking and a public art project, she crafts worlds and stories that are complex and sweeping, with depth, empathy, and vision. The Cartographers takes a little-known detail that cartographers used to incorporate into their maps as an invitation to create a literary map of her own making. The Book of M is uncanny in how it portrays a world gone mad after the appearance of a destructive global mystery (and it came out before the COVID-19 pandemic). The Future Library, set in Norway, is high on my TBR list for 2023.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin
I first heard this book described as a love story like no other–in that the relationship between the two protagonists is hardly romantic, but rather a friendship as deep as one between lovers. The book documents Sam and Sadie’s friendship as it ebbs and flows through the decades, always stitched together through their love of playing and designing video games.

Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote
In 2022, I studied a technique of character portraits in words, a study of a fictional person through the lens of a first-person narrator’s observations. In Breakfast at Tiffany’s, the unnamed narrator tells of his encounters with his neighbor Holly Golightly, and the ways she proves irresistible even if distant, to the people she encounters. I enjoyed this portrait-in-words for the story itself, as well as for observing Capote’s craft. (Several other books I read in 2022 and late 2021 that use this technique are Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Rules of Civility by Amor Towles.)

Mary Jane by Jessica Anya Blau
A coming-of-age story of a teenager who gets a summer job babysitting, only to find out that her employer is a psychologist who’s housing a rock star and his superstar wife for rehab at his home. I enjoyed Mary Jane’s first-person narration and the way she evolved over the summer as her surprise new friends showed her what it looked like to fall but rise again.

Story Genius: How to Use Brain Science to Go Beyond Outlining and Write a Riveting Novel by Lisa Cron
As much as I enjoy and have been impacted by books about the writing life (Bird by Bird, anyone?), I appreciated the practical step-by-step approach featured in this book. The parenthetical part of the subtitle is, Before You Waste Three Years Writing 327 Pages That Go Nowhere, and that says it all. Writing a novel takes countless hours, and I welcome any advice that helps me to spend that time well.

Those are the top 10 books I read in 2022. You can see my entire list of 42 books on Goodreads.If you love a good list of books or want to stay updated on the progress of the novel I’m writing, sign up for my free newsletter.

(Disclosure: Posts on this site may include Affiliate Links; click here to learn more.)

The post Top 10 Books I Read in 2022 appeared first on Daytona Dawn Danielsen.

The Tradition of the Syv Slags Kaker, or Seven Sorts of Cookies

Norwegian Christmas CookiesA tradition of butter, time, and loveOriginally published in Edible Seattle Magazine, 2015

Once a year, vinyl painting tarps were draped over the china cabinet, shelving, carpet, and furniture in my grandparent’s home. It might have looked like a crime scene, butit was just protection against the clouds of flour that would inevitably dust every surface within sight when it came time to bake potato lefse—the traditional Norwegian flatbread served with butter, sugar, and often a dusting of cinnamon. It was a sign that the Christmas baking season was around the corner. 

My maternal grandparents started the season in the fall. Once the lefse were made, frozen, and the house cleaned of all the molecules of errant flour that may have migrated under and behind the tarps, they could relax and start thinking about cookies. And by relax, it’s all relative. The cookies, even, were serious business.

Norwegians have a tradition known as the syv slags kaker, or seven sorts of cookies. Put simply: you wouldn’t be a proper Norwegian if you didn’t have seven types of cookies to serve at Christmastime. I grew up knowing the tradition by taste rather than by name. I remember tins upon tins, and all the cookies set out on trays whensomeone came by for a holiday visit. As an adult, I’ve become fascinated by this tradition, and learning more about it has helped me understand my family’s habit of obsessive cookie baking a little better.

Norwegian Christmas cookies fall into three categories: some are fried, others are made on a special iron—such as the delicate krumkaker, reminiscent of a fancy ice cream cone—and the third type are baked. According to Dr. Kathleen Stokker, author of Keeping Christmas: Yuletide Traditions in Norway and the New Land, the baked cookies are the newer ones. Irons go back to the 18th century and were important because most people lacked the fine flour needed to make cookies rise. 

In 1992, Norway’s largest daily paper, Aftenposten, conducted a survey on Christmas cookies and were flooded with responses. Based on the results they compiled a list of the 100 most popular cookie varieties. Though preferences vary from family, the cookies most likely to be on the svy slags lineup were sirupsnipper (syrup diamonds), Berlinerkranser (Berlin wreaths), sandkaker (tart-shaped cookies), krumkaker (delicate cone-shaped cookies),smultringer (little donuts), goro (a rectangular biscuit made on a decorative iron), and fattigmann (“poor men”; dough cut with a slit and woven into itself before being deep-fried). Serinakaker, buttery almond  cookies often decorated with almonds and pearl sugar, are another favorite.

Why seven? It hasn’t always been that way. “In former times as many as nine or eleven kinds were made,” explains Stokker. The number (always uneven) was a status symbol that indicated the family’s wealth.

Most of the cookies on the list are included in a 19th century cookbook by Hanna Winsnes, Lærebog i de forskjellige Grene af Husholdningen (which translates roughly to a manual of household tasks), formerly considered a pioneering Norwegian cookbook and an oracle for housewives. 

Many of the Norwegian baked goods involve the same set of ingredients, with little variation: butter, flour, sugar, eggs, and  flavoring like almond or vanilla. Chocolate is rarely used. Yet Norwegians transform the ingredients into an almost infinite range of treats. “Each pastry has its own unique form,” writes Stokker, “something that adds to the challenge of making them.”

I’ve been lucky to have a guide through the challenges of Norwegian Christmas cookies. Over the years I’ve gathered with my mother and grandmother in the months leading up to Christmas—often weekly—to bake our way through my grandma’s classic recipes: the cone-shaped krumkake baked on irons with ornate designs, those tart-shaped sandbakkels, and more.

Ostensibly, our gatherings were baking lessons. Grandma, who had baked professionally, was passing down her techniques and helping to hone my skills. My primary objective, however, was to hear the stories that came as she shaped cookie after cookie, the muscle memory triggering moments and experiences long filed away in her mind. Raised in North Dakota, she spoke Norwegian at home as a little girl, even though she never traveled to Norway. I doubt she knew the syv slags tradition by name, but she sure knew the cookies.

“Christmas cookie baking is so much more than creaming butter and sugar and whipping eggs until fluffy,” wrote Astrid Karlsen Scott in her book Ekte Norsk Jul, Vol. 2: Traditional Norwegian Christmas Foods. “It means togetherness and sharing love and tradition. Amazing how such a simple act could bring security, and a feeling of belonging.”

Norwegians celebrate well with food. They historically knew the cold of winter and the difficulty of inhospitable land. They knew how to survive with little, how to store up food for the winter, and to feast well when the occasion called for it. Celebration foods are infused liberally with butter, an ingredient hinting at the richness of Norwegian hospitality. 

According to Stokker, Christmas has been extraordinarily special to Scandinavians, especial in Norway since it was the poorest of the Scandinavian countries. There were also strong class divisions. 

The traditions we know of today were reflective of a certain class—pastors, doctors, administrative officials, and the like. Those were the ones who had butter, cream, good flour, and other ingredients necessary to make the cookies, explains Stokker. Others sold their butter and relied on lard for daily use. Butter for Christmas cookies would have been special, something to savor.

Things always change with time. Butter is more affordable for more of the population now, thanks to modernizing conditions. But time is a commodity.

“Double career marriages have curtailed the once elaborate preparations [of Christmas cookies] in many families,” Stokker told me, but added that the  ideal is still very much alive .

“Most Norwegian housewives still immerse themselves in the flurry of producing the traditional sju slags (seven kinds [of cookies]),” she explains in her book, but these days it’s a little different. 

“My Christmas cards from friends over there almost invariably include a mention of how they are measuring up to “sju slags” this year,” she told me. Those cards say things like, “’Though I may not have made the entire sju slags, I did make….’”

Each year I find myself in that same position: trying to stock my pantry with as many of the seven as possible. I never quite make it, but each time I bake a batch of Norwegian Christmas cookies I think of the times I gathered in the kitchen with my mom and my grandmother to bake. I think about the way my grandma’s hands molded and manipulated the dough, working like an artist to shape countless cookies into little pieces of edible beauty. I think about the memories we created and the love that we shared.

The older generation is passing on now. Due to a series of strokes, my grandmother is no longer able to bake. I’m the one responsible now for sharing our heritage with the next generation. I try hard to weave traditional Scandinavian food into the meals I serve, particularly at Christmastime. I want to pass on to family and friends the hospitality extended so generously to me as I was growing up. 

This is how the women who’ve preceded me showed love—I knew it with every embrace and every crumbly krumkake and buttery cookie. 

The Recipes

These doughs should chill, so whip up a few batches at night then let the shaping and baking begin the next day!

Berlinerkranser (Berlin Wreath Cookies)

Adapted by permission from Ekte Norsk Jul, Vol. 2: Traditional Norwegian Christmas Foods by Astrid Karlsen Scott

2 hard-boiled egg yolks
2 raw egg yolks
2/3 cup sugar
3 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons butter, at room temperature (I use salted)
2 lightly-beaten egg whites
Pearl sugar

In a mixing bowl, or the work bowl of a stand mixer, mash the cooked and raw egg yolks together with a fork. Add the sugar and beat until light and fluffy. Add the flour and butter alternatively, mixing it fully but handling the dough as little as possible; it will be somewhat crumbly but will come together easily when you press it. Cover and chill the dough at least a few hours, ideally overnight.

Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper. Roll the dough into logs 1/3 inch in diameter and cut into 4- to 4 1/2-inch lengths. Fold the logs into wreaths, allowing the ends to overlap, and place about an inch apart on the cookie sheets. Chill them in the refrigerator for a little while before baking to help them keep their shape.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Brush the top of the cookies with the egg whites, then dip in pearl sugar.

Bake until lightly golden, 8-10 minutes. 

Store in an airtight container.

Sirupssnipper

Adapted with permission from Thanks for the Food: The Culinary Adventures of an American in Norway by Whitney Love

3 1/2 ounces golden syrup
1/3 cup sugar
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup butter, cut into dice (I use salted)
1/2 teaspoon finely-ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4  teaspoon cinnamon
1/4  teaspoon ground aniseed
1 egg, separated
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3 1/2 ounces sliced blanched almonds

In a medium pot, combine the syrup, sugar, cream, and butter together over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until the butter is melted and the ingredients combined. Stir in the spices, then set aside and cool to lukewarm. Add the egg yolk and stir.  Add the flour and baking soda and stir, thoroughly incorporating the flour into the dough. Refrigerate overnight.

Preheat oven to 350°F. Line baking sheets with parchment paper. Lightly beat the remaining egg white in a small bowl and set aside.

Lightly dust your work surface with flour and roll out the dough very thin (2-3mm thick), a portion at a time, reserving the rest in the refrigerator as you work. Use a pastry wheel to cut the dough into diamond shapes about 1 ½ inches long, using a ruler, if you wish, for even shaping. Place on baking sheet and press an almond slice in the middle of each. Brush the egg white over the cookies and bake until light brown, 8-10 minutes. 

Cool on wire rack. Store in airtight container.

NOTE: Though a pastry wheel helps give these cookies their distinctive shape, if you don’t have one, you can just use a knife.

Serinakaker

Adapted by permission from Ekte Norsk Jul, Vol. 2: Traditional Norwegian Christmas Foods by Astrid Karlsen Scott

1 egg
3/4 cup sugar
2 cups flour, divided
1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1 stick plus 5 tablespoons butter, at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 egg white
1/4 cup finely chopped almonds
1/8 cup pearl sugar

Beat the eggs and sugar until foamy. Whisk 1 cup of the flour with the baking powder in a separate bowl, then add to the eggs, stirring to form a dough. Mix in the butter, remaining flour, and the vanilla extract. Chill until firm, at least two hours. 

Preheat the oven to 350°F and line baking sheets with parchment paper. Roll the dough into small balls, then flatten slightly with a fork. Brush with the egg white and then sprinkle with chopped almonds and pearl sugar. Bake for 10-12 minutes, until slightly golden. Cool slightly on the cookie sheet until crisp enough to transfer to a plate or wire rack.

(Disclosure: Posts on this site may include Affiliate Links; click here to learn more.)

The post The Tradition of the Syv Slags Kaker, or Seven Sorts of Cookies appeared first on Daytona Dawn Danielsen.

Norwegian Rosemaling with a Twist

A Traditionally Modern Nordic ChristmasRosemaling, a Norwegian art form beloved for centuries, gets a face-lift this holiday seasonOriginally published in Sweet Paul Magazine, Winter 2020

During this pandemic Christmas season, I suspect we’re going to need all the comfort and cheer we can muster. I’m personally looking to my Norwegian roots and embracing that lovely sense of hygge that Scandinavians are known for. Now I’m sure you know that there’s much more to hygge than flickering candles, a crackling fire, fluffy blankets, and anything else that makes you feel cozy. Indeed, hygge is a mindset, a lifestyle. It’s a sense of togetherness—of dining in and lingering over the meal until long after the plates are empty. Of enjoying one just one more spiced cookie to dip into the gløgg while savoring a spicy conversation. Of slowing down, embracing the stillness, and opening your heart. That said, some visual cues can certainly help, and that’s where these projects come in. Inspired by rosemaling—a traditional Norwegian painting style—these projects will have you embracing your inner Nordic in no time.

Centuries ago, Norwegian families would commission traveling artists to paint the interiors of their homes with rosemaling. Characterized by its acanthus scrolls, fanciful flowers, and other embellishments rosemaling traditionally appeared in a palette of toned shades of red, orange, brown, green, and blue. Though toned, the results were dramatic and striking, and sure to brighten up the darkness of a northern winter. Now, I love traditional rosemaling, and even wear my late grandmother’s own rosemaling art on my skin in a rather sizable tattoo. But just like I enjoy refreshing old recipes by adapting them for modern tastes, I love to play around with this traditional art form and use its elements to create something new.

Cookie Tray

If Santa Claus were real, I’m pretty sure he’d leave an extra-special present behind after encountering this alternative to cookies and milk. The aged finish and neutral palette of this cookie tray is perfect for serving Mr. Claus some flavorful pepperkaker and a cup of hot, spiced gløgg.

You’ll need:
Unfinished wooden tray
Acrylic paints in shades of warm brown, rose gold, and white
Paint brushes (medium filbert or flat for the scrolls, liner for the details
Paper towels
Pencil

Brush a coat of water over the tray. Drop in a little warm brown paint in a few areas and dab with a crumbled paper until you have an aged effect. Let dry, and repeat if needed to build up the color.Using a pencil, draw one figure eight lengthwise across the bottom of the tray, then another one intersecting widthwise.Fill in the figure eights with brown and rose gold, using one color on one side of each loop and another color on the other; use long, flowing strokes and allow the colors to blend as they reach the middle.Once dry, add flourishes with white paint using a liner brush. Letter box

For those of us trying to bring back the old custom of sending handwritten letters—or those who simply need somewhere to stash this season’s Christmas cards—this letter box offers a subtle and elegant display option.

You’ll need:
Unfinished wooden box
Acrylic paints in shades of warm brown, rose gold, white, and black
Paint brushes (medium or small filbert or flat, plus a liner for the lettering)
Paper towels
Pencil
Fabric or decorative paper of your choice

Create a vintage effect by following step 1 of the cookie tray instructions.Once dry, use a pencil to lightly sketch a design; I chose a simple rosemaling-inspired flower with small scrolls, but dramatic scrolls would be pretty as well.Paint the flower, keeping in mind the double-dipped brush technique used in rosemaling—you can get the same effect by blending colors into one another where they begin to touch.Use a liner brush and white paint to add outlines and accents.When dry, add a word or name of your choice with black paint and a liner brush.To finish the project, line the interior of the box with fabric or decorative paper of your choice.Handmade greeting cards

The lucky recipient will love opening the mail and finding this handmade creation, made with love by you.

You’ll need:
Plain white greeting card and envelop
Acrylic paints in the colors of your choice; I recommend a deep berry red, soft brown, rose gold, and white
Paint brushes (medium and small filbert or flat, and liner)
Carbon paper
Pencil
Template

Size the template to fit the card, then transfer it using carbon paper and a pencil with a light touch.Lay in the lighter color, such as a warm brown or rose gold, first—it should fill up most of the scrolls.Double load a brush with deep berry red on one side and the lighter color on the other. Beginning at the root of the scrolls, paint with long, sweeping brushstrokes, keeping the red on the outside, and allowing the brush to curl around at the ends of scrolls.Use a liner brush to add additional emphasis where needed with the dark color, rose gold, or even your lighter color mixed with a touch of white. Statement ABCs

Your only limit for these strikingly simple decorations is the number of words you can craft from the alphabet. Create a festive word like “CHEER” or “SAVOR,” or make it a monogram for your mantle. I opted for the initials of my children’s first names.

You’ll need:
Paper mache letters
Acrylic paint (red and white)
Paint brushes (large and liner)

Cover the entire letter with red paint and let dry.Using a liner brush, add all sorts of flourishes inspired by the linework in rosemaling. Cozy votives

Create a cozy Nordic vibe in five minutes flat with this simple little project that will have you doodling to your heart’s content.

You’ll need:
Glass votive candle holders with candles
White chalk marker

Shake and prime the chalk marker according to the package’s instructions.Draw your favorite elements of rosemaling, keeping in mind that less is more.

The post Norwegian Rosemaling with a Twist appeared first on Daytona Dawn Danielsen.

Writing the North: The Question of Portals in Fiction

In my first semester of my MFA program, I considered the ways that my protagonist, Agneta, might enter the world of the forest spirits and the mountain giants, who are her neighbors, in a sense. But how will she go from one “world” to another? I’ve been considering the means of such travel in other books, asking: How do characters move between worlds or realms in stories, and what forms do portals take? It turned out to be quite easy to identify a number of forms throughout literature.

They can be wardrobe, doors, and gates, such as in C. S. Lewis’s The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe; The Ten Thousand Doors of January; or the gate in Gallant. Sometimes it’s a matter of time travel and machinery, as in H. G. Wells’s The Time Machine. In The Little Mermaid, Hans Chistian Andersen’s mermaid makes a sort of Faustian deal to become human, entering the world above the sea.

An act of nature transports Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, drugs are the vehicle in The House on the Strand by Daphne du Murier, and attempted suicide takes the protagonist in Matt Haig’s The Midnight Library to an in-between space where she’s able to step into the books containing different variations of her life to try to save her life. Death and a long journey feature in the legends of Orpheus and Eurydice, as well as in the Norse myths as with Hel/Helvig.

Some other examples include dreams (Legends of the North Cascades), getting lost or happening upon a real but unknown or strange place on earth (“lost world” stories), a stone or amulet, and mental illnesses. Other stories involve guides, such as the ferry man in Once Upon a River, the boy who didn’t grow up in Peter Pan, or the Valkyries in Norse mythology who take the fallen to Valhalla.

In the case of The Hazel Wood, the characters look for the legendary place and are somehow allowed in by its inhabitants. Fantastical transport also shows up in internet lore as in the urban legends of the Back Rooms, a liminal space where people can supposedly become trapped if they “no-clip” reality. 

To take the idea and expand it to reality with no fantastical elements, it could include characters transcending their stations in life, be it through a benefactor, marriage, or any other means. I think of Great Expectations as one excellent example, as well as a character getting hired to work at a remote and exclusive school with a dark secret (Madam by Phoebe Wynne).

What are some examples that come to mind for you? Previous posts in the Writing the North series:A Reintroduction: Returning to Writing FictionGiving Voice to SettingLinking Norse Mythology and FairytalesWhat if Skadi Stayed?

The post Writing the North: The Question of Portals in Fiction appeared first on Daytona Dawn Danielsen.

Scandinavian Gløgg (Alcohol-Free Version)

A pot of a spiced beverage simmering on the stove, releasing its fragrant spices into the air. The flickering glow of candles, a crackling fireplace. It’s hard to imagine a more cozy setting in which to celebrate the holiday season. I created this recipe for Scandinavian gløgg (alcohol-free) in 2021, in honor of everyone who doesn’t drink.

Typically, gløgg is a spiced wine spiked with a spirit such as aquavit. I chose to stop drinking a while back, and life has become so much richer for it. Committing to the change is something I’m pretty proud of. It’s not easy to make that decision in a place and culture where alcohol is just about everywhere, but it was a life-changing one in all the best ways. With that in mind, it was important to me to create something delicious that was as good as the original, not simply a sorry substitute.

It’s possible to make Scandinavian gløgg alcohol-free by steeping spices into a juice such as cranberry, but my goal was to create a recipe with the complexity of the original. By combining several types of juices and adding black tea to mimic the tannins of the wine, the results are fantastic. Opt for juices with no sugar added, if possible, so you can sweeten to taste.

Scandinavian Gløgg (Alcohol-Free)

32 fl oz cranberry juice (no sugar added)
32 fl oz black cherry juice (no sugar added)
32 fl oz apple juice (no sugar added)
1/2 cup raisins
8 dried figs, quartered
3 cinnamon sticks
10 green cardamom pods
1 tablespoon whole cloves
2 star anise
2 (2-inch) strips of orange peel
1 cup water
1/4 cup sugar
2-3 tablespoons loose black tea leaves
1/4 cup blanched almonds

Heat all three juices in a large pot with the raisins, figs, cinnamon sticks, cardamom pods, star anise, and strips of orange peel. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat, cover, and allow to simmer for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a small pan, combine the water, sugar, and tea leaves and bring to a boil, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Turn off the heat and allow to steep while the gløgg simmers.

Strain out the tea leaves while you pour the sweetened water into the gløgg. Ladle the gløgg into mugs, ideally something clear and heatproof, adding to each some of the raisins, figs, and almonds. (Be sure not to accidentally pour the cloves into the mugs as you serve.) Garnish with a cinnamon stick and a slice of orange, if you’d like.

NOTE: The amount of sugar is a matter of taste, and depends on the juices you choose. I recommend searching for unsweetened juices so you can have control of how sweet you make the gløgg. Ultimately, the choice is yours, and I hope you make this recipe again and again, adjusting ingredients and making it your own.

Interested in my original version, with wine? You’ll find it in the archives here.

The post Scandinavian Gløgg (Alcohol-Free Version) appeared first on Daytona Dawn Danielsen.

What if Skadi Stayed?

One of my favorite stories in mythology is that of Njord and Skadi, the Norse newlyweds whose meeting and marriage could rival the best of today’s dating and romance reality shows. I first took notice of their story when I was in the process of divorce in 2021, and the strange circumstances of their ill-fated relationship intrigued me: From the beginning, Njord and Skadi were doomed to fail. After all, Skadi had wanted to marry one of the other gods instead of Njord, plus they could not agree on perhaps the most important decision of their marriage, where they would live. Readers and scholars today differ on whether the couple simply stayed married and lived apart or if theirs became a story of divine divorce. But ultimately, the two parted ways. And that’s where my imagination took effect as a writer, founded on a question: What if Skadi had stayed?

Off on the wrong foot

Before we go any further, it’s worth understanding the backdrop of the marriage. Skadi was a jötunn, or giantess, whose father was killed by the gods. Entering the land of the gods to seek vengeance, she received several consolations, including a husband from among the gods. They gave her the ability to choose from among them—with a catch. She’d have to make her pick by seeing only their feet. Now, Skadi had had her eyes on Balder, the most handsome of the gods. It’d be easy to recognize him by his feet, Skadi thought. But she was mistaken, and found herself the bride of Njord.

The newlyweds didn’t get off on the best start, and to make matters worse, they couldn’t agree where to live. But in a sort of trial or truce, the two agreed to spend nine nights in Njord’s seaside home and nine nights in Skadi’s mountain hall. After all, Njord was the god of wind and waters and “patron saint” of sailors and fishermen. And Skadi, now assuming an identity as a goddess by marriage, was considered “goddess” of winter and skiing. But by the time the 18 days were up, the two were convinced that they simply could not abide the other’s abode.

Family drama

When I read Skadi’s story, I find myself asking many questions and wondering about context that doesn’t exist. Much was likely lost when the myths were written down around the arrival of Christianity to the region. However, I pulled the following from my reading: 

Skadi appears to have a good relationship with her father, Thiazzi. Her mother isn’t present, and likely hasn’t ever been, given the lack of her mention.When Thiazzi is killed by the Aesir, Skadi rages. She puts on her armor and seeks out the gods to start a war. So, we know she’s fiery and strong (and probably tends to act impulsively). Despite her anger and grief, she agrees to a truce with the gods. Her moods may be a powerful force, but she can also be reasoned with.One consolation: The gods send Thiazzi’s eyes into the sky to become part of the Gemini constellation. Skadi has something to remember her father by.Another: She is so sad and lonesome that she believes she will never laugh again. But the gods must make her! The trickster Loki manages to make her laugh (in one very strange scene).Finally: The gods will grant Skadi one of their own as a husband. She has her eyes on the dreamy Balder, the most handsome of the single gods. But in an arrangement that sounds like a Viking predecessor to today’s dating and marriage reality TV shows, she chooses the wrong feet and weds Njord instead.Skadi gets the title “pure bride of the gods” and a rank as a goddess, despite being a jötunn. She allows herself to marry Njord and to become part of his community among the gods.After the failed marriage, Skadi returns to the mountains where we can assume she has inherited her father’s great hall.

There are some disagreements about the mother of Njord’s children, Freyr and Freya. Some say that they were born of Njord’s sister, and that Skadi is the stepmother. But what if they were actually Skadi’s children? Here we’re getting into conjecture and hypothesis, as some believe Skadi went on to bear children for Odin. (Of note: Odin is the father of Balder, the handsome god she wanted to marry. Talk about family drama!) Still, what if Njord’s children were actually Skadi’s? That would certainly complicate things in their relationship! 

Back to the question, what if Skadi stayed?

As I developed the concept for my novel and collection of short stories this past year, I kept coming back to the character of Skadi and the choices she made. While I’m not writing a retelling of Skadi’s story, the question did spark a lot of ideas and inspiration for the stories I am writing.

What if a character such as Skadi were to give in and choose to live in her new husband’s domain, leaving her world behind? That itself doesn’t make for much of a story. But considering Skadi’s fiery and stubborn characteristics, what would it take for her to make this decision to give in? It’s out of character, so what might have happened for her to get to that point? And how would that continue to play out in the relationship, potentially leading to dysfunction and collapse?

I’ll leave these as questions for now. Answers could certainly go in many directions! But this is one of the fun things about writing–inspiration can come from countless places, and in fiction, the possibilities are endless.

If you’re a writer, where do you turn for ideas and inspiration?

Images: Skadi: Wikimedia Commons; Njord and Skadi: Wikimedia Commons

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Fi...

The post What if Skadi Stayed? appeared first on Daytona Dawn Danielsen.

How to Make Perfect Krumkaker: A Collection of Reader Tips

I remember the childhood delight of biting into a krumkake knowing that it would crumble, dropping shards of sweetness into my cupped hand. Krumkaker are among the syv slags kaker, or seven sorts of cookies, that are a must at Christmastime for Norwegians. And they’re certainly a favorite type. I recently asked readers to share tips for making the perfect krumkaker. I’ll share those in a moment. But first,

The syv slags kaker

Back in 1992, Aftenposten—Norway’s largest daily paper—surveyed people and compiled a list of the most popular varieties.

Krumkaker were on the list, along with smultringer and hjortetakk (these two tied for first place), sandkaker, sirupsnipper, berlinerkranser, goro, and fattigman.

About krumkaker

The syv slags kaker fall into three categories: baked, fried, or cooked on special irons or griddles. The krumkaker fall into the latter and are the oldest of these cookies, along with goro. They go back to at least the 1700s, writes Kathleen Stokker in Keeping Christmas: Yuletide Traditions in Norway and the New Land, and the blacksmiths who made them would integrate their initials into the pattern. In Norway, the design might differ depending on the area or the family. With ties to waffles, another treat made on an iron, the roots of these cookies go back at least a thousand years.

Today’s bakers have a choice: stovetop or electric irons. There are benefits to either type, with tradition and romance associated with the former and convenience, speed, and ease of cleanup with the latter. I personally use a dual-krumkaker electric iron that Grandma Adeline gave me years ago. Whichever model you choose, they’re available at many cookware and Scandinavian shops, as well as online. Don’t forget to pick up a couple of cone rollers, too. There are some beautiful, handcarved ones out there, which would make lovely Christmas gifts. As for technique, yours will vary a bit depending on your preferences and your iron.

My krumkaker tips:While everyone’s technique, timing, and workflow will differ, I like to slide the cookies off the iron onto a piece of parchment paper and immediately put more batter on the iron; by this time my krumkaker have cooled just enough to be workable (though still hot), but not so much that they become brittle. By the time they’ve set enough to transfer off the cone rollers and retain their shape, the next batch are just about ready to remove and roll.Be patient and give yourself plenty of grace. It takes a little while to get the hang of the timing and rolling. Some krumkaker won’t turn out just right, but that’s okay—part of the fun is sampling while you go, and the imperfect cookies provide a great excuse to do so.Some years ago when I was first learning to make krumkaker, I asked my surviving grandmother, Adeline, how to roll the cookies onto the cones without burning my fingers. “You just have to do it,” she said. Not satisfied that making krumkaker should have to hurt, I posted a question on Facebook a long time ago, asking readers for tips. While some people echoed my grandmother’s thoughts, that you just have to deal with it (“Asbestos hands that’s all,” wrote one person), readers posted a variety of tips:Some people use rollers from Norway that have a clip attached, which allows you to slide the krumkaker off the iron and roll it in one step with minimal contact with the hot cookie. Others use gloves, even the cotton ones available at the drugstore—just make sure you’re using food-safe materials. Others use a dishcloth or parchment paper as a shield for the hands while rolling. Another great tip I learned from one reader is to keep a small glass of ice water nearby—that way you can cool your fingers immediately after rolling the krumkaker.Reader tips for making the perfect krumkaker:“I used my sister’s Chef’s Choice KrumKake Express 839 and I’m hooked.” – Julie Sween Steinbeck“We have my Grandmother and Mother’s irons. They are so precious to our family, we make it a family project. I keep a small glass of ice water next to me and keep my fingers in it between rolls when it’s my turn. It helps a lot.” – Janice Capps Quick“Always have a helper, one works the iron the other rolls. My mother used to make with her mother, she was always worked the iron because she couldn’t roll correctly then I made with my mother and I would roll. Now I make with my son and he rolls. Goes so much faster when you make 100+ cookies.” – Erika Halboth“Be sure to hold down firmly on the handles after the batter is poured so they get nice and thin” – Pamela Hetteen“In Florida, make them on a cold day or our high humidity ruins them.” – Terry Hickman“Yes. I always make them at Christmas, other times too. A favorite to make with grandkids. That’s my tip: have a grandkid ready to roll, count to 7 and tap it off.” – Heidi Keem Nimm“I make several dozen each Christmas. They’re my love language! Ha! My tip: make sure you roll them as soon as they come off the iron.” – Jeanie Nelson Mayer“Mom always stored them in a tin, lined with foil to keep fresh! We use vanilla extract instead of cardamom. Yummy!” – Linda Brewi“My favorite Norwegian cookie! No tips except be quick and willing to endure a little pain!” – Stephanie Jacobsen Schuler“Use a wooden roller not the metal ones that comes with the new irons!” – RaNae Langness“Store in tins or Tupperware sealed containers, cool before sealing. I use milk instead of cream, they are lighter then.” – Marilyn Cron“Make sure your butter is room temperature. Love making them. Now my older grandchildren have taken over and I supervise.” – Judy Swenson Reynolds“I press the seam side of the rolled cookie slightly while still hot to make it lie flat and not unroll.” – Claire Lohnes“Getting into a rhythm is the most important thing for me. One-year I put them over small custard bowls. We filled them with ice cream jello. Delish!” – Judith Hansen Secord“I  krumkake but the years I’ve changed my recipe, adding vanilla, pre ground and hand ground cardamon. I add extra butter, sugar and thin batter with water to make them thinner and crispier. I use a a thin dowel instead of a cone to make them easier to eat, stack and pack.” – Pam Erickson Davis“Make them when no one is home or double the recipe!” – JuliAnn Allen“Make them on a sunny day, not overcast. On an overcast day it takes them longer to crisp up.” – Sue Get the recipe

Share your tips Find even more sweet and savory treats in my cookbook  Modern Scandinavian Baking !

The post How to Make Perfect Krumkaker: A Collection of Reader Tips appeared first on Daytona Dawn Danielsen.