Tag: ethnic

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Finns Celebrate St. Urho

By John Andrews

The Irish have St. Patrick and the Finns have St. Urho, who was feted in small town glory Saturday on the streets of Lake Norden.

The annual St. Urho’s Day parade was small, but Lake Norden’s Finns participated with zeal, donning the traditional royal purple and Nile green and affixing Finnish flags to wagons and tractors.

The legend of St. Urho is traced to a businessman in Minnesota who is said to have concocted the story in 1956 when a coworker chided him about the lack of saints in Finnish culture. He created St. Urho, whose miracle was casting the grasshoppers from his country’s grape crop by using his booming voice, obtained by drinking sour milk and eating fish soup.”Hein‰sirkka, hein‰sirkka, mene t‰‰lt‰ hiiteen!” he shouted, which roughly translates to,”Grasshopper, grasshopper, go to Hell!”

The celebration originated in Lake Norden decades ago when two local Finns placed a sign in the window of the cafe advertising a St. Urho’s Day parade the upcoming weekend. Then they drove around town, honking the car horn. It has slowly grown to the dozen or so entries that paraded around town on Saturday.

After the parade, everyone gathered the community center for a potluck of Finnish delicacies. I begged off, because even though I’m willing to try almost anything, I still have qualms about fish head stew. Instead, I snatched a couple pieces of chocolate still lying on Main Street in the parade’s aftermath and headed for home, wondering what crop could be saved by a hero who ate Hershey’s bars and drank coffee. This might be the start of a new legend …

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Freeman’s Savory Soup

By John Andrews

Green beans star in Joyce Hofer’s soup, but its flavor comes from summer savory, an herb rarely used in other German cooking.

Call it what you want: pepper weed, bohnenkraut, gartenkraut or a pillar of the spice mixture”herbes de provence.” Germans in Freeman know it simply as summer savory, an essential component of the green bean soup that has been part of Schmeckfest‘s first course since the annual”tasting festival” began in 1959.

Summer savory boasts a piney, peppery flavor, similar to thyme or oregano. It is believed to help digest beans, which could explain how savory, otherwise used sparingly in German cuisine, became such an important ingredient in green bean soup.”It has such a distinct flavor,” says Joyce Hofer.”I don’t know that they use it anywhere else but the green bean soup. That’s all I ever use it in, too.”

Green bean soup, along with noodle soup and salad, is one of the first dishes served at the family style buffet in the basement of Pioneer Hall on the Freeman Academy campus. The soup has its origins with the Low German people, one of three Anabaptist ethnic groups that founded Freeman in the early 1880s. The others (the Hutters and the Swiss) traditionally prepared their own signature dishes to be served at Schmeckfest. Hutters made noodle soup, beef stew and their unique sweetened sauerkraut. The Swiss were known for their poppy seed rolls.”You just kind of stuck to the dishes you knew,” says Hofer, who counts herself among the Hutters.”Now it’s done communally, because there aren’t enough Low German women to make just the green bean soup.”

Summer savory isn’t a culinary secret, though Schmeckfest diners are often heard asking what gives the soup its unique essence. The herb’s history can be traced to early Greece. Mythological creatures called satyrs were often shown wearing crowns of savory. People in the Middle Ages wore savory garlands to prevent drowsiness. When the Emperor Charlemagne ruled over Western Europe in the early ninth century, he included summer savory on his list of herbs to be grown in his royal gardens. Savory’s role in German cooking began at about the same time, when monks brought the herb from its native region along the Mediterranean Sea in southern Europe to their monastery gardens in Germany.

In the 16th and 17th centuries, the upper class citizenry of Western Europe grew savory in”gardens of delight.” Today you’ll find it growing in the backyard gardens of several Freeman chefs. A handful of gardeners sell tiny bags of savory at the Country Kitchen shop set up during Schmeckfest every year. Hofer bought a bag for $3.50 in 2013, and was still using it as 2014’s festival approached.”I try to buy enough to use through the year,” she says.”What you can grow is better than what you can buy, but what you get at the store is better than nothing.”

While savory dispenses a unique flavor, large quantities of the herb eaten directly can be unpalatable. That’s why Hofer places sprigs inside a tea strainer, and hangs it over the edge of the pot as the soup simmers.”You probably wouldn’t want to eat the savory itself,” Hofer says.”It has a slight aroma, but it really comes out when it mixes with other ingredients of the soup.”

Bought or grown, that’s what makes Schmeckfest’s green bean soup a dish to savor.

Schmeckfest 2019 is scheduled for March 29-30 and April 5-6 on the Freeman Academy campus.

Gr¸ne Schauble Suppe

Joyce Hofer’s green bean soup recipe is adapted from the Schmeckfest recipe that feeds 1,000 guests and 250 workers on each of the festival’s four nights.

ham bone (optional)

1/2 gallon water‚Ä®

1/2 lb. smoked ham‚Ä®

2 1/2 to 3 cups potatoes

1/2 cup chopped onion

3 or 4 sprigs summer savory‚Ä®

1/2 cup finely diced or ground carrots

2 cans string beans (16 oz. total)‚Ä®

2 tablespoons sour cream

Cook smoked ham bone or smoked ham in water until tender. The last half hour before serving, add potatoes (cut in 1/2-inch cubes), carrots, onions and summer savory, using a tea strainer hung over the edge of the pot. When the vegetables are tender, add beans, including the juice, and sour cream. May substitute 1 pound of fresh-cut green beans and cream or butter for sour cream, if desired. Ham base may be added for extra flavor. Hofer says the soup is best when allowed to simmer at least an hour, but it can be eaten when completely heated.

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the March/April 2014 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.

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What’s Your Favorite?

By Laura Johnson Andrews

Until I wrote”Quest for the Czech Kolache” (Jan/Feb’15), I’d always thought that the best Czech pastries were filled with poppy seed sludge. Our office bookkeeper, Ruth Steil, swears that prune kolaches are the way to go. Others crave apricot or cherry.

But Czech South Dakotans’ favorite dessert is much more versatile than I realized. Kelsey Thomas, part-owner and kolache maker at Czeckers Sports Bar & Grill of Yankton, told me that anything that’d make a good pie would make a good filling. She’s tried making chocolate kolaches, peanut butter and jelly kolaches — and the fresh-from-the-oven pumpkin pie kolache she let me sample was out of this world.

If you’d like to branch out from the ordinary, here are three filling ideas from the demonstrators at Tabor Czech Days. Maybe tropical pineapple-coconut kolaches are just the thing to combat cold, bleak winter weather. Wake up your taste buds for spring with a tart rhubarb kolache. And Kelsey Thomas describes cottage cheese kolaches as”strangely good.””Just don’t think of it as cottage cheese,” she says.

Tropical Filling

1 cup half and half

1/4 cup coconut

1 1/2 tablespoons pineapple Jell-O

1 cup crushed pineapple

1/2 cup pineapple juice

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon butter or margarine, melted

1 cup sugar

3 tablespoons cornstarch

2 teaspoons coconut extract

Mix sugar and cornstarch together and set aside. Combine half and half, coconut, pineapple Jell-O, crushed pineapple, juice, salt and butter. Bring to a boil in double boiler or microwave until heated through. Add cornstarch and sugar mixture and cook until thickened. Stir in coconut extract and cool.

Rhubarb Filling

3 cups rhubarb, cut up

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 tablespoons Jell-O

1 1/2 cups sugar

3 tablespoons cornstarch

Mix sugar and cornstarch together. Add other ingredients and cook until thick. Add red food coloring if desired.

Cottage Cheese Filling

24 oz. low-fat cottage cheese

1 egg yolk

3/4 cup sugar

Pinch of salt

1 teaspoon vanilla

Few drops of lemon extract

Sprinkle of cinnamon or nutmeg

2 tablespoons instant tapioca

Mix together and refrigerate overnight.

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What’s Pho Lunch?

By Fran Hill

Last week, Laura Johnson Andrews from South Dakota Magazine visited my neck of the woods. It was a trip we had spoken of since our first meeting, and finally the stars aligned properly to make it a reality. I was excited, to say the least, to share some regional highlights, a few of my favorite places and even explore new areas with a friend that is as enthusiastic as I am about the variety and uniqueness of South Dakota.

Small towns often get a bad rap for having little or nothing of interest, but it wasn’t difficult for me to put together an entertaining tour of my small portion of south central South Dakota. Taking tips from the Mayoral Likes feature in the July/August issue, throwing in a few other distinct spots, and counting on the unwavering hospitality of our population, it was a great day for a south central South Dakota adventure.

Among other stops, we toured The Sign Inn, an early hardware store repurposed into a hunting lodge and loaded with local history; the Gregory Buttes Observation Park for breathtaking views of the prairie; Craftsman Creek Furniture, where the owner, Travis, coaxes the beauty and nuances of the wood grain from every handmade piece of furniture he creates; the thousands of photos lining the walls of Frank Day’s Bar; and stood on the stars at Oscar Micheaux Park. Of course, we made it a point to snap photos with area water towers and share them on social media. (Have YOU posted a water tower selfie to South Dakota Magazine’s Facebook page?) At Dayspring Coffee, the barista chatted freely with us about her favorite locales, and after sampling the”Self Serve, Self Pay, Pop & Ice Cream” at the Carlock Ballroom we were treated to an exceptional private tour of the dance hall by the owner.

Early in the day, Laura asked if I was making lunch, but we had other plans for our adventuring tummies. Pho Quynh, in Sioux Falls, may be an old favorite of the South Dakota Magazine staff, but out here on the prairie, The Homesteader boasts its own Vietnamese soup. It isn’t on the menu and is only available at lunch time, but locals love these big, steaming bowls of flavorful broth, beef, seafood and rice noodles served beside plates of shaved cabbage, herbs and lime wedges. Squirt on some Sriracha, and dig in.

Pho, and all Vietnamese soups, vary from region to region. Traditionally, oxtails and other bones are slowly simmered to create a savory broth seasoned with cinnamon sticks and star anise. The marrow richens the soup deliciously. While I am not privy to either the recipes of Pho Quynh or The Homesteader, I suspect their versions benefit from this traditional method. At home, my version is a bit simpler, but still satisfies that pho-ish craving if I miss the uniquely local lunchtime offering of The Homesteader.

Simple Pho-ish Soup

(adapted from The Food Network)

8 ounces rice noodles

12 ounces lean beef sirloin, fat trimmed

Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

1 large onion, halved

1 4-inch piece fresh ginger, unpeeled, halved

3 cups beef broth

5 star anise pods (Hubs prefers when I cut back on the star anise to about 3 pods.)

1 cinnamon stick

4 green onions

2 jalapeno peppers

1/2 cup fresh cilantro

2 to 4 tablespoons fish sauce

1 cup fresh bean sprouts

1 lime, cut into 4 wedges

Prepare the rice noodles as directed on package.

Meanwhile, heat a large stockpot. Tenderize the steak by piercing with a fork multiple times; season with salt and pepper. Sear the meat until charred but still VERY rare; transfer to a plate. Add onion and ginger to the pot; cook a few minutes to brown the edges. Add the broth, 3 cups water, star anise and cinnamon, reduce heat and simmer about 20 minutes. Thinly slice the green onions and jalapenos (remove seeds for less heat) and tear cilantro. Thinly slice the meat against the grain. Drain the noodles.

Add fish sauce to the broth and boil 5 minutes. Discard the ginger, star anise and cinnamon stick. Remove and slice the onion. Divide the noodles among 4 bowls; top with the broth, beef, scallions, cilantro, bean sprouts, jalapenos and onion. (Serves 4)

Fran Hill has been blogging about food at On My Plate since October of 2006. She, her husband and their two dogs ranch near Colome.

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Holiday Foods Heritage

By Jennifer Thom

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the Nov/Dec 1993 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call 800-456-5117.

On Christmas Eve in 1910, Emelia Nielson was a little disgruntled. Earlier that day she and her two-year-old daughter Esther had arrived in Hooker, South Dakota, just east of Viborg, by train, ending a long journey from Denmark. Emelia’s husband met them in the station. Chris had arrived months earlier to find a new home for his family.

“Mother said it was the worst Christmas she ever put in,” Esther recalled. Emelia, tired from the trip, declined an invitation to a Christmas party. Instead, Chris cooked bacon and eggs; dessert was lemon pie.

“Mother was wishing herself back in Denmark,” Esther said.”In America, they didn’t keep Christmas our way.”

Never again did Emelia have lemon pie at Christmas. She kept Christmas her way next year, and the years that followed, serving a robust Christmas dinner of roast goose, red cabbage, preserves and Danish apple cake.

“We always baked certain things: peppernuts, Danish puffs and Danish apple cake,” Esther said.”I was the oldest, so I always had to help. I was proud of that.”

South Dakotans still enjoy preparing dishes that are part of their heritage. Scandinavian specialties — rosettes, krumkake and lefse — are popular with Scandinavians and non-Scandinavians alike. As a nod to modern times, today’s cooks use a few shortcuts when they prepare dishes that celebrate their heritage at Christmas.

Baking most Scandinavian treats is time-intensive. The cook has to form each cookie or sweet individually. Sandbakkels, for instance, are made by pressing the dough into individual tart pans. After baking, the sandbakkels are gently tapped out of their pans one at a time.

When longtime Sioux Falls resident Rosaaen Olson visited her son in Norway, she decided to mother him with a batch of chocolate chip cookies. In the land of formed cookies, it wasn’t easy finding what she needed.”We couldn’t find a baking sheet anywhere,” Rosaaen recalled,”so we had to buy a pizza pan.”

Rosaaen’s been baking Julekake, Norwegian Christmas bread, for many years. It’s her middle son’s favorite; the youngest favors lefse. “If I’m going to do it, I’m going to do it big,” Rosaaen said. She doubles the Julekake recipe so it yields eight loaves, some earmarked for gifts.”The eggs and milk make a rich dough,” Rosaaen said.”That’s what makes it so good. Scandinavian bread has more body.”

No doubt, Scandinavians like their food plentiful at Christmas.”One child goes without a present,” Thomas Asfeldt mused,”to pay for all the candy.” His mother was raised in Denmark and moved to America when she was 21. At Christmastime in his Sioux Falls kitchen, Thomas makes liver pate, a spread always found on a traditional Danish Christmas buffet. His wife, Karen, a Norwegian from Webster, chooses treats from their Scandinavian heritage to try each year. Two of her favorites are Coffee Balls and Orange Marmalade.”I like to make those two because they can be done in an evening,” Karen said.

When Emelia Hansen arrived in Hooker one hundred years ago, she brought with her few material possessions, but she had a rich storehouse of traditions and memories. Her descendants are now stewards of those traditions.

Invited by the Smithsonian Institute, Esther traveled to Washington D. C. to demonstrate the Danish recipe aebleskiver. In a tent by the reflecting pool, Esther prepared aebleskiver, using knitting needles to turn over the muffin-like treats as they browned in a cast iron skillet.

Closer to home, a minister in Viborg asked Esther to help him recreate a Danish Christmas for a party at the church. Esther recited the Danish song,”Nu Er Det Jul Igen” (Now it is Christmas Again) while the minister wrote down the phonetic spelling. The minister tutored a choir of young Viborg residents.

“I had tears in my eyes. I was so proud of them, said Esther.”You’d swear they were a bunch of little Danes.”

Karen Asfeldt’s Marmalit (Marmalade)

3 to 5 oranges, washed clean
2 cups dried apricots
2 to 3 lemons, washed clean
1 cup sugar, or to taste
2 teaspoons vanilla

Do not peel the oranges and lemons. Cover and soak apricots in water for 3 to 4 hours. Cut fruit into wedges. Use food processor to mince the fruit. Add 1 cup sugar and 2 teaspoons vanilla. Stir and let sit for 20 minutes. Adjust sugar to taste. Store covered in refrigerator for 3 to 4 weeks.


Emelia Nielsen’s Danish Cookies

1 cup lard
3 eggs
1 cup butter
2 teaspoons baking ammonia (available at pharmacies or online) in a little water
Dash of cardamom
2 cups sugar
4 cups flour

Mix all ingredients into a stiff dough. Knead well, let stand and rest a while. Roll out thin, and cut with cookie wheel into shapes. Brush top with beaten egg and sprinkle with sugar. Bake at 375 degrees until light brown.

Rosaaen Olson’s Julekake (Christmas Bread)

1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup water
3 cups milk
2 packages dry yeast
3/4 cup sugar
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon ground cardamom
10 cups flour
2 eggs
2 cups candied or dried fruit

Melt butter in 1/2 cup water and 3 cups milk. Put yeast, sugar, salt, cardamom and 5 cups of flour in a large bowl. Beat 2 eggs into milk mixture and add to all ingredients. Beat all 3 to 4 minutes. Gradually add about 5 cups flour. Mix in candied or dried fruit.

Let dough rise one hour or until doubled. Shape into four loves. Put into greased pan. Let rise again for one hour. Bake in preheated 350 degree oven for 35-40 minutes. Frost with powdered sugar frosting and top with slivered almonds.

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King of Klub

By Laura Andrews

We’ve all heard of soup kitchens and spaghetti suppers. Feeds of lutefisk, Rocky Mountain oysters or wild game are not uncommon. But up in Milbank, folks feast on on a rarer delicacy — a Norwegian potato dumpling called klub.

It’s an early winter tradition in Milbank, thanks to local body shop owner and former assistant fire chief Al Mathiason. Over the years, Mathiason’s huge dumplings simmered in ham broth have raised funds for the local fire department and for youth groups at American Lutheran Church.

Mathiason learned to make klub at his mother’s knee. She was German and Irish, but picked up the technique from her mother-in-law in order to please her full-blooded Norwegian husband.”He liked potato klub, lefse, lutefisk, all the goodies,” says Al.

It’s still a Mathiason family favorite, mixed up for family dinners and special visitors. Kathy Mathiason, Al’s wife, says,”Our 90-year-old uncle George came from California. We offered to make him klub, so he was watching Al make dumplings and couldn’t believe how much flour he was using. After he saw how well they stayed together, he said that must have been what his wife and sister did wrong — their dumplings always fell apart. Al told him not to mention that to the girls or he would never get dumplings from them again.”

Like so many ethnic foods, klub has many names and many variations. Up in Pierpont, South Dakota, they call it kumla. Others call the spheres raspeballer or potetballer. You can use red or white potatoes — both have their advocates. The Mathiasons use white flour to make light dumplings; others prefer wheat or graham flour.”Traditional dumplings would have a chunk of meat hidden in the middle,” Kathy explains.”It was probably the only meat you ate.” One variation, blodklub, requires boiling the dumplings in — you guessed it — pig or beef blood.

Serving suggestions for klub also vary. Like most Scandinavian foods, it’s good with butter. Some eat it with dark Karo syrup, and others fancy a slosh of ham juice. At the Milbank feeds, it’s often served with ham, coleslaw, homemade bread and butter pickles, salads and desserts. But Kathy tells us,”a real klub eater doesn’t eat any other sides — just dumplings.” Klub leftovers are a special treat when sliced up and fried in butter.

Milbank’s klub feed is usually held in November or December. If you don’t want to wait, try Al’s method below.


Klub for a Crowd

1/2 – 1 bone-in ham
20 lbs. potatoes
5 lbs. flour
Seasoning salt
Garlic salt
Pepper
Ham bouillon, optional

In a large kettle of water, cook a half or a whole ham. When the ham loosens from the bone, remove the meat and leave the broth behind, adding ham bouillon cubes to intensify the flavor, if desired.

Peel potatoes, then shred them in a food processor. Add flour to potatoes until the mixture holds together and reaches dumpling consistency. The exact amount of flour used will vary depending on the moisture in the potatoes. Season to taste with seasoning salt, garlic salt and pepper.

Form the dumplings into balls — anything between tennis ball and softball size is fine — then drop them in the hot ham broth. Cook the klub at a slow boil for about an hour.”They’ll start to loosen and almost float when they’re done,” instructs Al.

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Menno’s Open Door

By Katie Hunhoff

Bored with the homogenization of America’s restaurants? You’ll find culinary and cultural relief at the Open Door in Menno, where Rita Hoff has been serving German and farm country specialties since 1986.

Menno, a town of 780 in Hutchinson County, was settled by Germans from Russia.”We started getting requests for the foods we all grew up with,” Hoff explained.”Fleish kuchle is the favorite. It’s a big day when we serve it. I don’t think there is anybody who doesn’t show up.”

Hoff’s Tuesday menu always includes one or more German dishes. She bakes kuchen and donuts on Thursdays and serves a big buffet for the after-church crowd on Sundays. She and her husband, Jerome, alternate every Sunday: one goes to church and the other sets out the buffet.

The Open Door is a success story, but it would be hard to duplicate the dÈcor or the entrees. A dry erase board of customers’ birthdays, recipe cards, a WNAX gas station sign, historic photos of Menno and an eclectic coffee cup collection that advertises current and long-gone local businesses all add atmosphere, but they’re just frosting on the cake.

The food is the essence of the Open Door. This is not a frozen-fries-and-burgers grill. Hoff makes each dish from scratch, and summer produce comes from local gardens.”One week we got a whole box of beans that didn’t sell at the farmer’s market,” she said.”It helps with expenses and it gives everybody a chance to eat fresh food.” She seems apologetic when she acknowledges she occasionally has to open a can of vegetables, or that she has been tempted to buy pre-made foods like most restaurants depend on these days.

“One time a salesman talked me into buying ready-made stuff,” she said.”Man, people noticed right away. They said, ‘You didn’t make your own macaroni salad.’ So I can’t do that anymore.”

Running a small town restaurant seven days a week is a challenge — even with donated green beans and plenty of happy diners. But Rita Hoff has good help, from her husband, Jerome, a county commissioner and a school bus driver, and several part time workers.

Rita and Jerome close the Open Door after the Sunday buffet and enjoy an afternoon to themselves. They often make a trip to visit their children in Brandon and Tea, and usually end up at a restaurant. We wondered whether the prepared foods were a disappointment.”If I can sit down and have someone wait on me I’m not real particular,” she laughed.

Rita’s Fleish Kuchle

Rita has been running the Open Door for over 25 years and said this is the perennial favorite dish.”It’s also the easiest to make,” she said.”You kind of enjoy making it more because they like it more.”

Her advice for first time fleish kuchle makers is to not use all the flour right away.”The dough will get tough,” she says.”Sometimes it takes a lot of practice with the dough to get it right.”

Dough:

1 stick margarine
1 cup warm milk
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar
4 cups flour — don’t add all

Melt margarine and cool. Add milk, baking power, salt and egg. Mix. Add flour (save 1/2 cup for working the dough).

Filling:

4 pounds hamburger
Salt, pepper, chopped onion and seasoning salt to taste.

Mix meat mixture together after adding spices to taste. Roll out dough to thickness of pie dough. Cut into 4″x 4″ squares. Put one heaping tablespoon of hamburger filling in center. Fold in half. Cut edges to seal. Fry at 350 degrees for 7 minutes.

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the September/October 2011 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call 800-456-5117.



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Eggy Coffee?

By Laura Johnson

As the big day for the Heirloom Recipes Competition at the South Dakota State Fair draws near, my mind is more and more consumed with thoughts of vintage family recipes. My Aunt Julie recently shared a couple that my great-great grandmother, Alma Johnson, gave her friend Mabel Hovden back in the 1920s. Alma wasn’t known as much of a recipe follower, but it made sense that the surviving instructions were for cakes. After all, afternoon coffee was an important part of a Scandinavian farm family’s day — and you can’t have afternoon coffee without some sort of sweet accompaniment.

I asked my aunt what style of coffee was made back then. They didn’t have plug-in drip machines or fancy French presses, after all. Julie replied,”I’m betting that egg coffee was in the works. That was the kind I remember Grandma Johnson always making. It was best to get there early in the day, though, as her coffee seemed to get stiffer as the day wore on. No wonder Grandpa Johnson would add spoonful after spoonful of sugar. Speaking of coffee, I could use some myself right now!”

Julie introduced me to egg coffee years ago. One Sunday morning as we went to brew the first pot of the day, her coffee carafe broke. I started to panic.”I can’t sit through church uncaffeinated!”

“Don’t worry about it,” my aunt said cheerfully.”We can make egg coffee.”

What? Eggs in coffee? What kind of crazy talk was this? Jules had never been prone to such outbursts of bizarre behavior before, so I tried to suspend my disbelief.

As it turns out, that was a good thing. I did not know then that egg coffee was a cherished Scandinavian-American tradition from the days before automatic coffee makers, a concoction beloved of church basement ladies throughout the Midwest. Mixing coffee grounds with beaten egg is supposed to clarify the brew and make it less bitter. The exact method varies, but one thing remains constant — you’d better have a good dessert to serve with it.

So picture yourself in a Volin, South Dakota farmhouse kitchen in the mid-1920s. Your companions are two aged non-English-speaking ladies, three or four rowdy kids, a sick calf warming up behind the cookstove and a Swedish immigrant housewife with a devilish sense of humor. The egg coffee is extra hearty from hours of simmering on the stove, but the cake is good and the company lively. Enjoy.

Egg Coffee

From Talk About Coffee

1 egg, beaten
1 crushed eggshell
1 cup ground coffee
1/2 cup cold water
8 cups boiling water

In a small bowl, mix the ground coffee with the beaten egg until the grounds are well coated. Stir in the eggshell, then add water. Meanwhile, bring 8 cups of water to boil in a large saucepan. Add egg-coffee mixture to the boiling water and stir for about four minutes, or until the foam subsides. Remove from the heat and cover the pan. Let stand for 7-10 minutes, until the grounds and eggshell have settled to the bottom of the pot. Strain the coffee through a wire or cloth strainer into coffee cups or into a serving carafe. Add sugar and milk to taste if desired.

Orange Cake

From Alma Johnson to Mabel Hovden c. 1925

Julie advises,”There are no hints as to oven temperature or baking time. And in this day and age, I’d add poking holes in the cake with a fork before drizzling the orange/sugar mixture on it so it would run in. Probably another thing that everybody just ‘knew.’ If Grandma Johnson knew you were coming and she had an orange, you might get treated to this one.”

1 cup sugar
1/2 cup butter or lard
1 cup buttermilk
1 cup raisins
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon soda
1 egg

Glaze: Peeling of one orange grated. Squeeze juice from orange and put in 1/2 cup sugar. Let stand while cake is baking and pour on cake when taken from oven.

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Viborg’s Pancake Balls

By Laura Johnson

“∆bleskiver? What’s that? How do you spell it? How do you SAY it?” It’s funny when you realize that something that you take for granted is completely unknown to most of the rest of the world. So it is with my beloved Êbleskiver. Unless you’re lucky enough to be of Danish descent or have been to Viborg’s United Methodist Church for their popular Danish Days Êbleskiver breakfast (to be held at 7 a.m. on July 21, 2012), you are probably not familiar with this, the best of all possible pancakes.

What’s so special about pancakes, you ask? These are ball-shaped, thanks to a cast-iron pan with round indentations. The holes are liberally greased with butter or shortening, which helps prevent sticking, and the batter is turned once or twice with a knitting needle, chopstick or fork to create a spherical treat.

According to legend, the pancake of the Danes was invented by hungry Vikings. Raiding and pillaging worked up an appetite, so the Nordic warriors fried up pancakes on a war-battered shield — the closest thing to a pan they had handy. Believe that if you like, but the name means”apple slices,” not”post-raiding snack.” Long ago, the pancakes were served with an apple slice or dollop of applesauce inside, but today they’re generally made without filling. In Denmark, they’re served with a dusting of powdered sugar and a bit of jam. Around here, I’ve seen them topped with maple syrup, honey or cinnamon sugar.

In the old country, Êbleskiver aren’t for breakfast. They’re reserved for Christmastime, which seems like a pity. This was the most special of breakfasts in my family, a treat of treats. I remember Mom working over the cast iron pan with her knitting needle, deftly turning the batter until the buttermilky balls were golden brown. My brothers and I wolfed down the ‘skiver as fast as she could deliver them to the table, mashing them into the piles of cinnamon sugar on our plates. I’m not sure if Mom ever got to eat any, but I have no regrets over my youthful greed. Sorry for not being sorry, Ma.

There’s plenty of Êbleskiver recipes out there, but here’s how my mother, a Viborg, South Dakota native, makes them. To get an idea of the process, view our Êbleskiver-making photo gallery.

∆bleskiver

2 cups buttermilk
2 cups flour
3 eggs
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon soda
2 teaspoons sugar

Beat egg yolks. Add sugar, salt and buttermilk, then flour and soda. Fold in stiffly beaten egg whites and baking powder. Place small amount of fat in a heated Êbleskiver pan. Fill indentations about 2/3rds full. Turn the batter once or twice to create a more-or-less round ball, cooking until centers are done.