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Home Grown and Bizarre![]() Photo by Travis Anderson
Ingebretsen’s and Olsen Fish Co., Minneapolis; Cozy Café, Cyrus Armed with insight, I ventured to Ingrebretsen’s source, Olsen Fish Co., to see how perfectly good dried cod is ruined by well-intentioned Norwegians the world over. Well, not really the world over, since more lutefisk is consumed here than in Norway. Olsen processes more of the stuff than possibly any other merchant on the planet and does the lion’s share of its business at Christmas. I have followed cod through the salting and drying process in about a half-dozen countries, and it was odd to see trucks unloading that same product at Olsen’s back door, but there it was. The fish is hydrated in water, then rehydrated in a water and lye solution, then finally with water again to rid the fish of the caustic soda. As the cod is exposed to the lye, its protein makeup changes, and the fish not only swells and plumps to resemble its waterborne form, but changes consistency, taking on a jellylike texture. Hungry yet?
The lutefisk is poached, then served with butter or cream sauce, and paired with plenty of klubs and potatoes—nary a fresh herb in sight. The food has changed little in the 160 years since Norwegians and Swedes set sail on the North Sea headed for these prairies. I can tell you that at Cozy’s lutefisk is way more palatable than its reputation suggests, but the slimy texture is frightful in your mouth. Nevertheless, anyone who wants to enjoy great home-cooked fare and take in a real slice of small-town life should head to the Cozy and visit with proprietor Jean Anderson. Lake Superior’s North Shore I crashed pretty hard and woke up before dawn for a fresh “skizzle” at World’s Best Donuts (definitely not overrated), one of the best doughnut shops I have visited. A skizzle is a large, flat, yeasty Frisbee of sugar-dusted dough hot from the fryer (they use lard); it stands out as one of the better sweet starts to a day I can recall. Within an hour, I was on a herring boat in the middle of Lake Superior, hauling in fish by the bucketful. Sitting in a dead calm fog on a cold September morning was a surreal experience, but in Harley Toftey’s boat I was in good hands. After securing our catch, we filleted herring and squeezed roe for an hour, then retired to Dockside Fish Market for a shore lunch of fried herring, whitefish, herring roe, and strong coffee. That afternoon, I headed down the shore to meet up with Shawn Perich, outdoorsman, author, and avid grouse hunter. Shawn and I spent the presunset hours in the woods, then stuffed ourselves silly on fresh moose, grouse, and blueberry slump. I have eaten dozens of game birds I can name, and many in Asian markets that I can’t, but if I had to eat just one, it would be freshly shot ruffed grouse—the most delicate, white-fleshed, clean-tasting bird I have dined on. Pan-searing a grouse breast takes only minutes. Minnesota is the ruffed grouse capitol of North America, and fall is the season to get out there and taste it yourself. Heartland Restaurant, St. Paul
So what did I learn from Bizarre Minnnesota? Eating food that has a story makes it taste better. Eating food with a story that comes from where you live is personal. Food is something we can share every day, and the more we share our food stories with the rest of the world, the more we can focus on what we have in common, instead of what divides us. Bizarre Foods—Minnesota will air on the Travel Channel in March.
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