Kransekake Analysis
Kransekake is an almond flavored cake that has a dense, chewy texture. It is baked in rings and then the rings are stacked on top of each other, and piped with an icing. The cake is eaten by hand from the top down, in 2 inch pieces, as to preserve the structure. Kransekake is often decorated with little Norwegian flags, candies, or ribbons. It is this decorative nature that makes kransekake the showcase of many special occasions. Kransekake is very labor intensive, making it a special occasion type of dish. Most often it is served at Christmas, birthdays, Syttende De Mai, and weddings. In fact, kransekake is served so often at weddings, it has earned the nickname “Norwegian Wedding Cake”.
In my mother’s family, there is a strong tradition of serving kransekake at weddings. My mother’s godmother, Gloria, was renowned in the family for making the best kransekake. Gloria made the towered delicacy for both of her children’s weddings, and my parent’s reception. She would have been commissioned to make kransekake for my aunt Sonya’s wedding in 2003 but she was a little too old for the extensive process. My mother had made kransekake with Gloria once, so using her recipe, my mom and her sister attempted it for the wedding. My mom swears it was not nearly as good as Gloria would have made it. In the Minnesota Ethnic Food Book, the authors describe kransekake as such a delicacy that it would be uncommon to see at Christmas, but it would most definitely be at weddings[1]. This fits in with my own family’s traditions.
Kransekake is also made for Norwegian Independence day, Syttende De Mai. In fact, when I was in the first grade, we did a heritage project in my class. I had grown up exclusively hearing about Norway, even though I have many other backgrounds. So little six-year-old me chose Norway to focus on. My mom was more excited about the project than I was. We had to include a food, and so my mom decided to make kransekake. She made mini-kransekake towers to make it easier to serve and garnished each square with a toothpick Norwegian flag. In a happy coincidence, the day of the presentations fell on May 17th, or Syttende De Mai. So my mom printed out a copy of a Norwegian newspaper to bring with me to show off at school.
My mom also talks about a May Seminar to Norway and Sweden, and recalls a kransekake on the picnic table at an outdoor celebration in Stockholm. It was beautiful and was devoured by all of the 20-something students who were enjoying the spring afternoon. It added to the celebratory nature of the event.
In my family’s experience, kransekake is a laborious, delicious centerpiece that is enjoyed by Scandinavians of all ages, classes, and not something that is brought out for the average dinner, rather a special occasion.
Christmas is also a time in Norwegian-American households where special foods are eaten. My mom remembered that lutefisk was always served at their family Christmas. Her mother had a special way of making lutefisk that was more palatable for the family. She minced up the lutefisk and combined it with rice, cream, butter and salt. It was more of a lutefisk hot-dish, and the slimy lutefisk texture was less daunting, mixed in with the rice and pools of melted butter. Many years later, my mom and her siblings realized that lutefisk was something American Scandinavians enjoyed as homage to their homeland, and not something that was eaten in Norway. Their ancestors needed a food that could be stored for the long trek overseas and this smelly fish fit the bill.
Other Norwegian delicacies like lefse, sandbakkels, krumkake and rosettes were also popular fare at the dinner table. Potet klub and rommegrot made their way to the table once in a while, also. Most Norwegian foods that became our traditions were white or pale in color.
Our family, as is the case with many other Norwegian Americans, has taken care to preserve the food traditions of our homeland. My mom’s mom was adamant about this. She taught my aunts how to make krumkake and sandbakkels. Grandma never made kransekake herself, she left that labor of love to Gloria. She also never made lefse herself, she purchased it from Lena’s Lefse, a local business that would open from late October through the holidays to make it for the locals.
In my attempt at kransekake making, I initially thought the three-ingredient recipe seemed like a cinch. I finely ground the almonds, added the eggwhites and powdered sugar, chilled the dough overnight to ensure a chewier texture, and used my Mom’s ring molds to shape the dough. In her years of kransekake expertise, Gloria wrote in the margins of her recipe that sprinkling breadcrumbs on the greased rings would ensure an easier release of the baked cakes. I found this to be false. I also found that the chewy texture I remember was absent. My rings fell apart, they were much too delicate, and had little chew. The taste was ok, but cloyingly sweet.
After 2.5 hours and a frustrating result, I tried the recipe once more. This time, I decided to whip the egg whites first, I used Crisco instead of Pam, and used flour instead of the bread crumbs. These adjustments made the cake rings to look more like an angel food cake. I called my Mom in a panic and we walked through the steps, I had done them all in perfect succession, with a poor result. My Mom, feeling guilty for leading me down this path, called Nichole’s Fine Pastry in a huff and ordered a kransekake for my potluck event to try and rectify the situation, albeit an $85 dollar fix.
After a few tears and a disastrous kitchen, I called my Mom back and we talked about an alternative Norwegian delicacy, rosettes. I had made these with Mom a few times in the past, and she had given me the rosette irons when I moved in to my apartment.
[1] Anne R. Kaplan, Majorie A. Hoover, and Willard B. Moore, “The Scandinavians” in The Minnesota Ethnic Food Book. (St. Paul, Minnesota: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 1986) 106.