Åå så koseleg!

This blog post is written in conjunction with Sarah Shotts' ProjectSTIR movement to record heirloom recipes around the world! To get on board with her amazing journey be sure to visit and support her Kickstarter!

Cooking, for me, has always been an absolute joy. Since I was young I would make up recipes and cook for my family (sometimes not so successfully but what do you expect from a third grader!?). When I first moved to Norway my husband, bless his heart, had just the bare-bones of a kitchen and when I tried to cook it was quite difficult for me. Not only because I was lacking in utensils and such but the conversions from American measurements to things like deciliters and grams and substitutes. It's been an adventure, for sure.

However, even as I sit here our house is engulfed with the smells of apples, cinnamon and nutmeg. I've been making apple butter in my crock-pot for three days. (Two large batches!) When I walked in the house last night after work to the smell of warm apple butter I felt a huge pang of emotion hit me in the chest. This is the smell of my childhood in America filling the home of my family in Norway.

There is a word in Norwegian that eludes a true definition in English but is used widely and quite regularly here in Norway:

koseleg

Pronounced KOH-sell-eg. This word - to dilute it enough into English - basically means “cozy” but it's so much more than that. It is an emotion, a feeling, an adjective. It's when you feel that pang of emotion hit you in the chest followed by the warm-fuzzies of remembering “the old days” engulfed in an atmosphere of candlelight, large pillows, blankets and delicious smells. ALL of that in one word – koseleg.

The moments that are the most koseleg for me are when I am able to bring in an American tradition to my home. I'm not generally homesick for America. Don't get me wrong, I miss my friends and family (AND decent PEANUT BUTTER...cough) but I'm content here and have adopted many Norwegian food traditions in our home. But having the chance to sip a pumpkin spice latte while nibbling on toast smeared with apple butter is not so easy to come by here.

Some adventures I've embarked on in the search for koseleg American recipes:

Everything bagels – bagels topped with poppy seeds, dried onions etc. etc. etc.

Ranch dressing mix – a powder to blend with soured milk and mayonaise to recreate Hidden Valley Ranch

Pumpkin Spice Syrup – I've blogged this recipe here!

Cranberry orange sauce

Chicken/Turkey stock – oh how I miss the convenience of canned stock!

Apple butter

Chocolate cake – the boxed cake here is, well, only one flavor and very dry

Hummus

Cincinnati Chili

Corn bread

AND MORE!

Naked chocolate cake with strawberry buttercream frosting and strawberry jam layers, topped with fresh fruit. All from scratch.

Gluten free 2-layer lemon lavender cake with lavender buttercream frosting and candied lemons. All from scratch, even grew the lavender myself!

Homemade hummus!!Heavenly!

Let me tell ya, making the “everything” topping for the bagel is WORK! Let alone making the BAGEL too! And making ranch dressing mix from scratch? HOLY SHMOLY! (Tip: dehydrating mushrooms to grind up makes your house smell like a baby's diaper for about a week)

Horrible picture but delicious results!

In the end, all of those adventures are worth it when I take that first bite and melt into a puddle of koseleg.

One frustration, however, comes when I'm trying to “interpret” a family recipe from America into Norwegian ingredients and measurements. It rarely goes well the first try. When a recipe calls for a stick of butter I have to convert that into grams and use a scale because we don't have sticks of butter here. Any recipes call for Crisco? Forget about it! I have yet to find a good substitute for that one.

Every year I have a Thanksgiving dinner here and I've blogged about it before but haven't followed up on my promise to post the recipe for pumpkin pie. That was one successful family recipe that happened on the first try. I had to tweak it but it ended up tasting just like Mimi, my great grandmother, used to make. Because her crust recipe called for Crisco I found another crust recipe that worked beautifully! I've used it for sweet and savory pies with great success! This is the site where I found the crust recipe and where she has more recipes to pair with the crust!

So because it is officially the start of PUMPKIN EVERYTHING season, here is Mimi's Pumpkin Pie

Mimi teaching me how to make a pie crust ca. 1984

CRUST – Recipe makes enough for two single crusts or one double crust (top and bottom)

2 cups (260 g) all purpose flour

1 tsp salt

2 tsp sugar (for sweet pies – like this pumpkin recipe- only, skip if savory)

2 sticks unsalted butter (225 g) cubed

½ cup (1.25dl) full fat sour cream

Cube the butter first and set aside so it has time to soften slightly before you begin to use it.

In a large bowl, combine flour, salt, and sugar. Stir well to combine.

Remove rings from fingers ;)

Add butter cubes to the flour mixture and get your hands to work squishing the butter into the flour with your fingers until you have a coarse meal with a few bits of butter visible.

Add the sour cream and cut it in with a fork or continue to use your hands.

Form the dough into a roll and cut into two pieces. Flatten them out into two disks and wrap tightly with plastic wrap. Chillin the fridge for at least 30 minutes (DO NOT SKIP THIS STEP) so the dough can tighten up and the flour has a chance to absorb some of the excess moisture from the sour cream.

If the dough has been in the fridge for over 2 hours let it sit on the counter for 5-10 minute to loosen up enough for use.

Roll out to desired size and place in your ungreased pie plate.

Refrigerate until ready to use (especially if your kitchen is warm).

PIE FILLING

1 cup (2.25dl) pumpkin

1 egg – lightly beaten with a fork

1 Tbps flour

¼ tsp salt

½ tsp cinnamon

½ tsp nutmeg

¾ cup (1.75 dl) sugar

2 cups (4.74 dl) milk

Bring the milk to a boil and quickly remove before it over cooks.

Add the egg into the pumpkin and beat it well.

Slowly add in the milk to the egg/pumpkin mixture so that the eggs don't scramble.

Add the dry ingredients and mix well.

Pour into an unbaked nine inch pie shell.

Bake for 5 minutes at 450F (230C) degrees then about 35-45 minutes in a 325-350F (160-175C) degree oven.

All the pumpkin recipes I made for Thanksgiving last year!

Here's wishing you a KOSELEG day with a slice of Mimi's Pumpkin Pie!

Don't forget to check out ProjectSTIR!

Just Breathe....

Many friends and family have been urging me to get back to blogging. Not that I was ever really regular about posting. But a lot has been going on. Easy and hard. Happy and sad. Smooth and rough. Rather than get into the details I'll continue with some pictures my husband and I took at the beach last week. With these pictures I will share some of the revelations and inspirations I received from that day at the beach.

UP A STREAM WITH JUST ONE PADDLE

I know, the old saying is, "up a stream without a paddle" but that doesn't really pertain to me.

I have a paddle.

That paddle is my support system. My friends and my families - both Norwegian and American.

The paddle I'm missing - the one whose loss is making me paddle in circles - is the one I am supposed to give myself.

I've lost a lot of self-confidence in the last two years I've lived here. I forget what it is to say, "Yep, I've got this." That just doesn't happen anymore. I'm really good at faking it - not only to myself but to the world as well. I can't look in the mirror anymore. I don't see me. When I see pictures of myself I look lost. This paddling in circles is making me not only look tired but feel exhausted.


Once I find my paddle I'll find my way back to me.

YOU CAN'T PLANT ROOTS IN SAND - But you can try...

Since moving to Norway I've been searching for a place to plant my roots. That has proven very difficult because we do still rent our house. It's not really ours no matter how much work I do on it. It never will be. And that's okay. But for the longest time I was grasping to the handful of sand made up of hopes for our future.

Each grain of hope - building our own house, starting a family, finding a place in the community - have been slipping through my fingers lately. I keep trying to hold onto them. I keep trying to push them back into my palm and hold on tight.

But they haven't really been lost. I know that now. You can't hold onto so many grains of hope without some slipping through your fingers. That's why you find that bucket. That's what the "bucket list" really means.

It's that place where you put all your grains of hope - to free up your hands in order to grasp the here and now.

TEARS ONLY FLOOD YOUR PATH

I've cried a lot lately. A lot.

But only crying, well, that's not going to get you anywhere. It only floods the path you're supposed to be on. There's this funny thing that happens when you look at a fish in water. You don't really see them, just their reflection. The water distorts their actual location. The same thing happens with your feet on a flooded path - they look disconnected from yourself. How can you walk without stumbling when you can't see where your feet actually land?

Crying and learning from it. Crying and looking into yourself. That's where the tears are beneficial.

I'm not saying that crying is bad. It's really truly needed sometimes. To wash the film of sadness or sorrow from your eyes in order to see anew.

COWS AT THE BEACH

Just to break up the seriousness of this post with a a little smile!

Those are some lucky cows!

LIKE WATER OFF A DUCK'S BACK

Oy vey. This one is really hard for me to express. 

When you move to another country you get advice and encouragements from all aspects of your life. They mean well. I really believe they mean well. After two years of hearing the same sentences (sometimes word-for-word) they get more difficult to hear. After two years of being asked about when you're going to find a job or why haven't you found a job yet, or when you're going to start a family, why don't you have this or why don't you do that?.....etc....

No, I can't just let what people are saying or asking roll like water off a duck's back. 

I don't have an answer. All I can say is that I have been trying my hardest to, well, do anything they are asking or advising or encouraging. 

I don't mean to say that I don't appreciate people trying to help. I don't want to discourage people from reaching out or asking me questions. I just want them to know that sometimes I just don't have an answer and I'm more frustrated with myself and the situation than I am with them for asking about it. 

It's not always the positive that is hard to deal with. That's actually the easy part. The negative is like a knife in the stomach. When people talk about me when I'm standing right there and they don't think I understand Norwegian, that hurts. In grocery stores, in the waiting room at the doctor, at the pier when I'm at work. That rolls off my back like a granite boulder. 

But then I have to remind myself why water rolls off a duck's back. It's not only the natural oils on a duck's feathers but there is a delicate structure, feather by feather. Those feathers are constructed of toothy hairs. It's those toothy hairs of positive reinforcement I gather from those around me - no matter how difficult they are to hear at the time - that bind together to create my "feathers" - that create my shield.

Those feathers of positive reinforcement are what help those negative moments to roll off my back and protect me. 

So, please, don't stop asking me the hard questions. Don't stop giving me advice. It may sting a little bit when you do but please know that you're only making me stronger.

THE WEAKEST RUSTY LINK

I feel like everyone in our lives creates a sort of chain. Whether each link knows each other or not, we create this chain of people around us. It's there to grab onto when we're drifting away from our path. It's there to give us strength in difficult moments. The chain can grow. The chain can become shorter.


But we are our own weakest link.

If we don't maintain that chain. If we don't "grease" it with outings, phone calls, text messages, emails or even the simplest smile while passing on the street, those connections can rust and eventually break. I have been finding it very hard to remain emotionally connected with friends back in the States. At absolutely no fault of their own. I take full responsibility. It all stems from my own insecurities.

I've convinced myself that those I "left behind" think exactly that....I've left them behind. I've abandoned them. I promise I did no such thing. I've had to remind myself that wasn't the case. Yes, it is true, that moving abroad can filter out those relationships that were built out of only convenience but it also highlights those relationships that are steadfast and strong. Those links that are strong enough to anchor you.

I know I've drifted out to sea from some of you. I hope you are still holding on to your end of the chain because I'd love to come back to you. Lets polish off our link and make faces in our reflections on the shiny curved surface.

COWS AT THE BEACH AGAIN!

Take a break to smile!

A DOOR LOCKED FROM THE INSIDE OPENS FOR NO ONE

Oh boy, I'm opening a can of worms with this one. This past New Years I made a resolution. It's, quite honestly, the first resolution I've ever kept for more than a month (you know, just staying on trend with statistics!). My resolution was to say yes to Norwegians.

Yep, that's what I said. Unless time doesn't allow, safety is an issue, transportation is a problem or, most importantly, I can't give my fullest to the endeavor, I say yes to when Norwegians ask me to do something.

Why? Well, last December I went to visit my family in the States for Christmas. I did a lot of thinking while en route to Missouri. Why was I still feeling so disconnected to my community in Norway? Why had I not found my roll in the community? Why wasn't I participating in what was going on in the neighborhood? Why was I only finding out what was going on after it happened?

Because I wasn't putting myself out there enough. There are various reasons excuses why that wasn't happening but I decided to step up to the plate and participate every possible chance. This has led to me volunteering at ski events, getting small jobs here and there, meeting my neighbors, participating in community events and making connections and relationships that could lead to even more exciting opportunities.

I had been waiting for a door of possibilities to open for me - I finally opened it myself.

THIS SHIP HAS FINALLY SAILED....HOME

I am a tour guide again this summer. A couple of weeks ago I was chatting with a lady while hiking up to see the glacier arm at Briksdal. She asked me where I was from. I get asked this a lot so the easiest thing to say is, "The last place I lived was near Washington DC." It's a recognizable landmark so doesn't require too much follow-up. Well, she persisted and wanted me to list every city I've lived in....so I did. Her response shocked me.

"You lived in a lot of different places in a lot of different houses. I think you were looking for your home...I think you found it."

Woah. That's deep, lady! She had known me for maybe just over one hour and she had dug so deep.

I think she was right.





FINDING THE JOY

Esma doing her "dance" command.

So, this has been a pretty raw post. But I think it will give some insight into what I've been going through these past few months. I haven't been blogging as much as I had wanted to because I wasn't sure how to process all the feels.

Last week I was dealing with a huge loss. It rocked me to my core. So when I asked Svein Arild to take me to the beach he jumped at the chance. We grabbed our Biolite to grill some lunch, brought some knitting and crosswords (in bokmål Norwegian, I'll have you know) hopped in the car and drove out to our favorite beach in Hoddevik.

Svein Arild insisted that I just go for a walk by myself. I took the camera and a bag to gather beach treasures and walked. I walked in the cold water from the North Sea and smushed my toes in the sand. But most importantly, I BREATHED. I hadn't realized just how much I had been holding my breath. All day I kept taking deep breaths, feeling my shoulders relax, feeling my chest open up.

Picnic on the beach!

No matter what has happened. No matter what might happen. All that matters is my husband and my puppy are with me all the time. In fact I have a puppy draped over my shoulder and chest as I type this. When I look in their eyes I see joy and happiness reflected back at me.

When I look into their eyes I see this pure love - this unconditional love. I had heard rumors of this kind of love. I had seen it in movies. I didn't know I could have that love for myself. I didn't know that I could give that love either.

Esma the Magnificent

This furry little munchkin of a Havanese puppy makes me smile on a daily basis and she cracks me up all the time. Esma reminds me to find the joy in the little things. She reminds me that sometimes you just need to take a break and chase a butterfly. We are so lucky to have her.

My classy husband, Svein Arild.

This man. Wow. He is my angel. He is my rock. He is what keeps me standing when the winds of sadness try to knock me down. He holds me tight when he sees pain in my eyes. He makes me laugh with his ridiculous puns and jokes. He takes me on adventures and introduces me to new places.

Guys, I can't stress enough that I would be nowhere without this man. I don't know what I do without him. I don't think I show him enough what he means to me but I fully intend to right that wrong.

I am so lucky he picked me. I'm so lucky he found me. And, to steal a line from Bridget Jones, I'm so lucky because

he loves me just as I am.

Eg elskar deg kjempemasse, Bamsefar.



So, while I have every intention of continuing to post here, I will make no promises. You see, I have just said yes to another Norwegian today for a rather large project...I'm going to be very busy...

And then....drumroll.....MY PARENTS ARE COMING TO VISIT IN AUGUST!!! So, now that I have all this off my chest I can move on and get ready for their visit and plan all the amazing places I want to share with them of my new country - my home, Norway.