Scandinavian

Traditionally served at Christmas parties in Sweden and elsewhere, this is powerful stuff, as you can see by its ingredients. Nevertheless, it goes down easily, so be careful. The wine and port should be decent but obviously need not be fantastic; most of their flavors will be overwhelmed.

Caraway seeds bring their interesting, bitter character to this simple soup, which is produced throughout Eastern Europe. It’s light but flavorful when made vegetarian, richer and more robust with bacon and beef stock. The Scandinavian variation is even simpler (and sweeter). To crush the caraway seeds, put them in a small plastic bag or wrap them in plastic or wax paper and press on them with the bottom of a pot (or other heavy object) or go over them with a rolling pin.

Ginger may not be a spice you associate with Sweden, but it’s there (as is cardamom), and it makes its mark in this winter dish.When I was first served this, it was done in traditional, fancy style: a large roast of pork with a hole poked right through its center, stuffed with the dried fruit. It’s a glorious presentation and my first choice. But I have since been served it, and made it, in the simpler, stewed fashion of the variation, which is equally legit. I like this with Potato and Horseradish Gratin (page 482), but it’s good with most any potato dish.

A simple beef stew with some guts. If you can get your hands on fresh horseradish, substitute peeled 1/4-inch-thick slices of it for about half the potatoes; it develops a mild flavor and pleasant texture as it cooks. (Horseradish loses most of its harshness with heat; that’s why you do not add the prepared horseradish until the last few minutes of cooking.) Other cuts of meat you can use here: lamb or veal shoulder.

Lamb stew is a quintessential spring dish that can be a real celebration—or unbearably heavy. The difference has little to do with the lamb and much to do with the vegetables: If the stew sports color and lots of different flavors, it is lovely, almost light. If, on the other hand, it contains little besides lamb and potatoes, it becomes the cafeteria-style “Irish stew” that gave the dish a bad name in the first place. This is how it’s done in Scandinavia—bright, colorful, and fresh tasting. In other parts of northern Europe, parsley might be substituted for the dill; it’s just as good. Other cuts of meat you can use here: beef chuck or brisket (which will require somewhat longer cooking time), veal shoulder.

The ideal dish for when you have leftover meat and potatoes, this can also be made from scratch, by cutting raw potatoes into small cubes and browning them, then cutting meat into small cubes and browning it with the onions. This preparation is undeniably more elegant, but the recipe here, I feel, is more in tune with the spirit of the dish. If you don’t like the idea of raw egg (which, I assure you, is entirely in keeping with tradition), fry or poach the eggs, then top the hash with them. Other cuts of meat you can use here: boneless pork.

Even more so than most other people in the world with access to refined sugar, the Swedes and their fellow Scandinavians incorporate it into the most unlikely dishes. In this one, the caramel is not cooked until it becomes strongly bitter, but just slightly so. The butter then mellows it out. Not exactly health food by today’s standards, but a glorious side dish at any feast.

Scandinavia has more food celebrations than any place I’ve ever been, with a special food for every occasion. On St. Lucia Day—twelve days before Christmas—it’s almost imperative to eat a couple of these delicious buns, but most people would happily wolf them down any other day of the year as well. Great for breakfast or as a midmorning or afternoon snack.

I thought Lent was a time of self-denial, but in Sweden it’s when these absolutely delicious buns appear, filled with almond paste and whipped cream. They certainly could be served as dessert, but in Sweden people eat them as a midmorning or midafternoon snack.

This dish is served everywhere in Scandinavia and for a long time was a staple of restaurants throughout North America—though it seems to be disappearing along with the relish trays and the family restaurants that featured them.

Practically ubiquitous in Sweden and wonderful with cold vegetables, gravlax, cold meats, and sandwiches. You can leave it fairly thick and use it as a dip or thin it as much as you like to make it a little more saucy or even as thin as a salad dressing.

Berries are a big deal in Scandinavia. The farther north you go, the more precious they become. They are not only enjoyed fresh and preserved; they are celebrated, almost worshiped. This Jell-O-like dessert is a beaut.

It seems every country that grows rice makes rice pudding, and almost every experienced cook has his or her own technique. After years of playing with it, this is the one I like best, and it works well with the variations of most cuisines. In many cases rice pudding is simply milk bound by rice; often the amount of rice is well under 10 percent of the total. I prefer this recipe with just 1/4 cup, no more. The result is a thick milk custard with a recognizable but understated rice presence. If you want a dense and slightly chewier mixture, use the larger amount of rice. Other possible additions to rice pudding: a strip of lemon zest, a pinch of saffron threads, or a teaspoon of ground cardamom added at the beginning; a couple of tablespoons of raisins and/or slivered pistachios stirred in at the end. See the variations, and the following recipes, too—this group of recipes is unending.

Where to put a recipe like this? The Swedes eat these pancakes as dessert, but my guess is that 90 percent of Americans who make them will consume them before noon, as breakfast or a brunch dish. Though I’m in that 90 percent, these are undeniably sweet enough for postmeal status. There is a special pan for these, with small depressions, so you can make your pancakes the appropriate size. But using a tablespoon works almost as well. Serve them with confectioners’ sugar, applesauce, lingonberry preserves or any other jam, ice cream, sour cream, yogurt, or whipped cream. Or try an assortment.

Tuiles are better known, but the same cookies are popular in Sweden. You can make them without almonds, but unless you have allergies I don’t know why you would. Great alone or with ice cream or fruit.

In general, these are milder than Italian-style meatballs (Polpette, page 53), with cooked onion and no garlic or cheese. Often served with a cream sauce (and lingonberries), they can be made without one, skewered on toothpicks, and passed at parties. A combination of pork, veal, and beef is best here, but if I had to choose only one meat it would unquestionably be pork.

This combination of crusty potatoes and salty anchovies will either appeal to you enormously or make no sense. One of the best-known dishes in Sweden, it’s served at almost every holiday party—logically, if you ask me, because it’s great snack food. It makes a good side dish for a hearty roast as well.

This is my cross-cultural take on a frequently served Swedish snack. If you’re making the North African mantecaos specifically for this dish, you might omit the cumin, but I think they’re more interesting with it. You can also make these with standard biscuits, in which case they’re pretty simple.

In Sweden these little fish “sandwiches” are made with Baltic herring, but you can make them with any small fish from which you can remove the backbone, such as smelts, anchovies, and sardines (the names of all of these fish are confused anyway—many true herring and anchovies are called sardines and vice versa). To bone these fish, grasp the head and pull straight down; most of the innards will come out along with it; use your thumb to open the fish up from the front, then grasp the backbone and remove. You’ll be left with two tiny fillets joined by the skin. Plan to make eight of these—four sandwiches—for each serving if you make them as a main course.

The hardest part of this dish, these days, is finding fresh herring—which is astonishing, because a large percentage of the world’s supply is caught off our shores and shipped elsewhere. In the countries bordering the North Sea, however, it is celebrated, and if you can find it here—it’s in fish markets from time to time—this is a great treatment, an essential part of any smorgasbord, but also wonderful served with sour cream (“creamed herring”) and boiled potatoes. If the herring is whole, ask your fishmonger to fillet it for you.