Fløtegrøt

Thanksgiving with the family is often a good opportunity to get together and make nostalgic, traditional foods. For our family, that includes such classics as potato klub, potstickers, and "party salad." This time, we decided to tackle a Norwegian favorite known as rømmegrøt. Although we had never made it before, rømmegrøt is a staple at Norwegian and Scandinavian events in the upper midwest. Or so we thought! Upon further research, I discovered a split in the recipes. Some started simply with heavy cream while others required turning the cream into sour cream overnight. As it turns out, it is only the latter that is truly rømmegrøt, and the non-sour version is actually called fløtegrøt. It appears that as the dishes made their way to North America and proficiency in the Norwegian language declined, "rømmegrøt" came to refer to both. I suspect what most people around here have called rømmegrøt is, in fact, fløtegrøt. Whatever you call it, it's delicious and surprisingly simple to make.

As always, I aggregated several recipes to make this one. The basic structure is the same, although there is some variance in the amount of flour. For this recipe, we used the full 1 cup, but the result is at the high end of thickness that I would want. My recommendation would be to cut it down to 3/4 cup and see how that goes. The most surprising thing when making this is how the butterfat almost immediately separates out once the flour is added. It's one of those things that seems like it won't work but just does. This recipe is most closely based on one from The Best of Scan Fest by Cheryl Long, although that book calls it rømmegrøt. I must also give credit to the 1950 First Lutheran cookbook (also the source for the party salad recipe) from Roseau, Minnesota. The recipe there, called "flodegrod," follows the same steps, although it lacks any measurements. Given the relative simplicity to make, I'm a little disappointed I waited this long to make it. An added bonus: "fløtegrøt" is pretty fun to say!

The Breakfast Klub

The best part about making klub is eating the leftovers the next day. The soft, pillow-like dumplings firm up in the refrigerator, making them easy to slice. They can then be fried crispy, and are absolutely delicious. When I was a kid, we always looked forward to breakfast klub. Although we had them for lunch this time, they are equally great.

As part of my usual strategy of "using every part of the buffalo," I fried the klub slices in the rendered bacon fat I saved from the bacon cooked with the initial meal the day before. Any kind of fat, such as lard, bacon, or vegetable oil could be used. There's not much else to say other than to give this simple comfort food a try!

Klub

My grandmother, Irene Storey, was well-known in our family and her community for making a variety of Midwestern treats, including caramel rolls, buns, and lots of different cookies and bars. I've written about a few of her dishes before (red hotdish and party salad), but the most iconic one by far is klub. We only saw them a few times a year, when she visited, and they were always greatly anticipated. Klub is a Norwegian word, which we always pronounced something like "kroob." An article I found suggests this pronunciation is from a regional dialect of Norwegian. Klub are potato dumplings, and are cousins of the various Central European knödel including the famous matzo balls. Perhaps it's no wonder Ariel has quickly become a fan.

As with a lot of traditional foods, there is great variety in how people make klub. The basic formula involves potato, some kind of flour, and some kind of pork. Many recipes involve graham flour or incorporating the pork into the dumplings, such as with a small cube inside. My family's recipe is comparatively simple. The dumplings use only all-purpose flour, and the pork is served on the side. We always had side pork, which as I understand it is essentially unsmoked bacon. I used thick-cut bacon instead. I'm told the potatoes are traditionally processed through a meat grinder, but a food processor is much easier.

Research for this post involved diving into old community cookbooks, including the First Lutheran and Polaris cookbooks from Roseau, Minnesota. This particular recipe is adapted from the 50th Anniversary Polaris cookbook, credited only to "Janet Hetteen's Mom," who a quick Google revealed was Arlene Mekash of Roseau. Her recipe is very close to what I remember eating as a kid. I made a few changes to suit my own style. The original recipe calls for 4 cups of grated potato. I prefer to give this in pounds so that you don't have to guess how many potatoes makes a certain volume. 3 pounds made a little more than 4 cups. We ended up using quite a bit more flour than the original, but this should be done by feel. Once the dumplings can be formed, stop adding flour.

If I were to give one piece of advice when making klub, it is to make more than you intend to eat. The leftovers are even better, so stay tuned for a quick post on that tomorrow.