Tastes of Scandinavian Heritage: Recipes & Research

The History of the Holiday Cookie

         When talking about the Holiday Season, it has been claimed “Christmas just isn’t Christmas without Fattigmann.”[1] But just what is it about this cookie that makes us honor and celebrate it so?  It is much more than a flaky, delicious treat covered with powdered sugar. (I’ll stop there with the description for everyone who’s already starting to get hungry.) It is a symbol of a people holding onto traditions of the past while forging a future in a new land. The Minnesota Ethnic Food Book goes so far as to distinguish food's importance by claiming, “Norwegian Americans are more interested in food than in theological discussion.”[2] With its look, taste, and smell, food enables one to connect with a culture in a physical way. In culmination, the Norwegian tradition so many know and love is dependent upon the passing down of recipes.

        In the process of thinking about a favorite meal, many are quick to remember a dish branded as a staple food in their families. The food has a special way it is prepared, and it is passed down through the generations. For Laurie Veillette, Fattigman was a dessert she was quick to connect with her Norwegian heritage. She remembered being a young girl and watching her aunts prepare the dish at Christmastime. [3] When I asked her if the dish was only made at that time of year, she responded, “I don’t ever remember them making the Fattigman any time but at Christmas. It was kind of a treat. I mean, it was kind of like Christmas cookies.”[4] Because of the lengthy process and effort that had to be put into making Fattigman, the dessert could only be prepared when a sizable work force was present.

         Christmas provided ample opportunity for this because everyone in the family was together at the same place and time. In his work, Food Culture in Scandinavia, Henry Notaker claims, “The weeks immediately before Christmas are filled with baking activity; sweet breads, buns, cakes, and cookies have to be ready when the Christmas bells toll.”[5] When making the dish with the Veillette family, at least three people were needed in the kitchen at once to keep everything going smoothly. We implemented more current baking practices, such as the use of a Kitchen Aid mixer and deep fryer, yet still found the process to make and prepare the cookies took several hours. Years ago, when Laurie’s family would use the old recipe, they would mix the dough by hand and fry it in hot grease.  She says of the baking process, “it made so much. You know, if you looked at the recipe, you started it one day, and then you worked on it the next day.”[6]  Truly there was no better time than Christmas to get together with family and join in preparing a recipe all knew and loved.

         Fattigman has a unique cultural tradition, and the meaning behind its name often draws different conclusions. It is known as The Poor Man’s Cookie. In Sweden, a similar form of the cookie is made and is called klenät. The significance of this word is unique; it is defined as “a poor and weak fellow.”[7] The article, “By Request; Fattigman Bakkelse or Bakkels,” takes this idea a step further and explains, “Even a poor farmer had flour, some eggs from the chickens, milk from the cow, and lard rendered from the pig that was butchered. So, though it's a rich pastry, it was a poor man's treat.”[8] Back in the homeland, even those of the poorer classes could enjoy this delicacy because they could provide many of the ingredients themselves.  Many Norwegians in the homeland did not share the same amenities their immigrant counterparts later would. Before ovens became a staple of the household, in addressing desserts, “only the elite had the means to bake them and the necessary money to purchase the expensive ingredients.”[9] Because Fattigman was fried in hot grease and drew its ingredients from the family farm, it proved to be something many could enjoy. Yet, even though the components were simple and attainable, it still took a lot of effort and skill to make the cookies just right.

         With the precision of its design, Fattigman provides a clear example of the degree to which Norwegians cherished food. Laurie spoke of Norwegian food itself being rather bland, but the process behind the cooking made up for any simple taste in the dish.[10] Fattigman is described as being, “complex,” after the dough is rolled, “a slit is cut longways in a generously diamond shape of fresh dough; one end corner is pulled through the slit and tucked fast before the cookies are deep fried.”[11] I did not understand the importance behind each step of the process and difficulty of getting it right until I began to make it.

         Standing in the Veillette’s kitchen with dough on my hands, arms, apron, shirt, and even my face, I started to understand what it might have been like for immigrants years ago. The cookie recipe was something used to celebrate Christmas in Norway; however, in America, it took on a much deeper purpose. In his work, Promise of America: A History of the Norwegian-American People, Odd Sevre Lovoll further explains this idea by saying, “In the Norwegian settlements as much of the old peasant culture as possible was preserved; in many respects the settlers continued to live much as they would have in the Norwegian home community.”[12] For immigrants in a new environment, food was one of the few things they could hold onto. More than just the joy of having a familiar taste, it proved to be a reason to gather together with family and friends and enjoy each other’s company. When talking about her aunts during the time of Fattigman preparation, Laurie recalls, “it was a room full of women… there was no silence.”[13] Fattigman, with its intricacies and time-intensive baking process gave people a chance to reconnect.

        The process took two days, flour was spilled on the counter and floor, dirty dishes filled the sink, but still I realized making the Fattigman was important. Why? There in the Veillete’s kitchen, with dough up to my elbows and a smile upon my face, I knew nothing could ever replace such a moment. A family had been reconnected with their heritage, and I, an initial outsider to such traditions, had now become part of the practice with my own stories to tell.
 
 
[1] Whitney Love, “Fattigmann Cookies,” Thanks for the Food: A Norwegian Food Blog, December 23, 2014, http://thanksforthefood.com/norwegian-fattigmann-recipe/.
[2] Anne R. Kaplan, The Minnesota Ethnic Food Book (St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society, 1986), 112.
[3] Laurie Veillette., Interview by Ingrid Floersheim, Food Heritage Project, October 27, 2015.
[4] Ibid.
[5] Henry Notaker, Food Culture in Scandinavia (West Port: Greenwood Press, 2009), 151
[6] Laurie Veillette., Interview by Ingrid Floersheim, Food Heritage Project, October 27, 2015.
[7] Henry Notaker, Food Culture in Scandinavia (West Port: Greenwood Press, 2009), 153.
[8] "BY REQUEST; FATTIGMAN BAKKELSE OR BAKKELS." Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, April 16, 2008. http://search.proquest.com/docview/263761522?accountid=10244
[9] Henry Notaker, Food Culture in Scandinavia (West Port: Greenwood Press, 2009), 154.
[10] Laurie Veillette., Interview by Ingrid Floersheim, Food Heritage Project, October 27, 2015.
[11] Anne R. Kaplan, The Minnesota Ethnic Food Book (St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society, 1986), 116.
[12] Odd Sverre, Lovoll, Promise of America : A History of the Norwegian-American People (Revised Edition). (Minneapolis, MN, USA: University of Minnesota Press, 1999). Accessed December 8, 2015. ProQuest ebrary, 63.
[13] Laurie Veillette., Interview by Ingrid Floersheim, Food Heritage Project, October 27, 2015.
 
 
 

    

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