How To Be A Real Swede, In A Few Easy and Incredibly Socially Awkward Steps
My dad is Swedish. What this means is: well, basically nothing. Except that he is not very bendy (random fact: Scandinavians are the least flexible people in the whole world, and my dad contributes to this finding). My dad has some vague memories of his grandfather eating pickled herring. But his Swedishness ends there.
To my mom, not knowing about and celebrating one's culture is tantamount to heresy. She believes in celebrating all holidays, great and small, and only needs a little bit of encouragement (or, no encouragement) to adopt others' holidays. Her exuberance is really catching.
For example. My mom had a Polish friend who baked a cake in the shape of a lamb every Easter. Are we Polish? No. Do we know the significance of this tradition? No. But do we now bake a lamb-shaped cake every Easter? You betcha!
So imagine my mom's horror when she married a man who - gasp! - had lost his Swedish cultural identity in the melting pot of white America. What could she do to resuscitate his ethnic identity...except to buy a bunch of Swedish holiday decorations and start CELEBRATING?! From the time I was a little girl, my mom made a heart-warmingly big deal about the Swedish St. Lucia holiday.
For those of you who are not familiar, let me explain about St. Lucia day. Basically, it pays homage to a martyred Italian saint, Lucia. There are several versions of the story of her martyrdom, which you can read here. The short version is that Lucia pledged herself to a life of chastity, but a pagan Roman soldier wanted to marry her. In some versions of the story, Lucia gouges out her own eyes in order to not cast her eyes upon him (um, crazy!?!). Anyway, homeboy (the Roman soldier) got pissed about this, and sent some soldiers to kill her. Miraculously, attempts to burn her at the stake and remove her from her home did not work. Unmiraculously, her divine protection ended there and she ended up getting stabbed to death.
In Sweden, celebrating St. Lucia Day on December 13 basically became an excuse for parents to get breakfast in bed. Little girls wake up very early on this morning, dress themselves in a white robe with a red sash, place a wreath of candles on their head, and bring their parents breakfast in bed while singing the traditional St. Lucia song. (You can read about the significance of these traditions on Wikipedia).
Growing up, Maryn and I celebrated St. Lucia Day every year. We woke early, dressed in our white gowns with red sashes, donned our battery-operated candle head wreaths, and brought breakfast to our parents in bed. Breakfast is not complete without hot breakfast buns and pepparkakor, a flower-shaped ginger cookie that you can usually buy at Ikea or your local Safeway (look for Anna's cookies in the box with the Swedish flag). My mom always made the day extra special by giving us a little Swedish themed present (a straw ornament, a necklace) and making Swedish meatballs with crispy Hasselback potates for dinner.
Socially Awkward Swedish Moment #1:
Dressing up as St. Lucia for Halloween. Yes, I did this as a kid. And, obviously, no-one knew who I was. I remember trick-or-treating in my costume.
Family answering knock: Wow, it's the Statue of Liberty!
(To be fair, St. Lucia does look a LOT like Lady Liberty.)
Me (matter of fact): Actually, I'm a martyr. St. Lucia...ever heard of her?
Family (shifting uncomfortably): Um, no.
Anyway...
This year I was feeling nostalgic about celebrating. I still have my costume in a box, and even though my plastic wreath is being held together with Scotch tape and half of the candles don't work, it still lights up. I thought that I would go ahead and celebrate St. Lucia day.
We live in an apartment across from a Swedish family. They have a Swedish flag hanging in their window and we can always hear them speaking Swedish. I've only waved to them and had a short conversation with them before, but I thought that it would be fun if I showed up at their door dressed up as St. Lucia, bearing gifts of saffron buns and pepparkakor. I thought they would appreciate it and feel like it was a little taste of home.
Socially Awkward Swedish Moment #2:
I shared my idea with a few different people (N=5) who did not disguise the looks of horror on their faces when I shared this idea. I was told that the Swedes would think I was a "weirdo" and "insane" for showing up dressed in a costume at the crack of dawn. Another friend told me that she would "kill me" if I showed up at her house like that. I was asked "DO YOU EVEN KNOW THESE PEOPLE?" And when I replied "no" in a small voice, their looks of horror and incredulity only increased. It made me sad. Not only because their reactions made me feel that I'd lost touch with reality (and what is considered normal or not, hahaha) but also because I didn't have support for celebrating my special holiday. Sniff!
So...I decided to celebrate anyway. I awoke at 5 a.m. on December 13th and proceeded to bake for three hours. I had to make dough, wait for it to rise, shape the dough, bake it, etc. Did I mention that I've never actually attempted to make bread before?
First, I attempted to make cross-shaped Lussekatter, the traditional sweet St. Lucia saffron buns. I used the recipe I found here, and only kind of freaked out when I realized the recipe never said what to do with the sugar. Doh! (Or in this case, Dough!) I added it in at the last minute, which meant that it didn't get incorporated as well as I'd hoped, but I think the buns still turned out well, and tasted great:
Then, I made a traditional St. Lucia currant and saffron wreath, which turned out really beautifully (and which I did not get a good picture of, unfortunately). I used this recipe.
I wrapped up the breads, donned my costume, packed up some candles, pepparkakor, lingonberry jam, and napkins with Swedish flags on them (a gift from my mom from a different St. Lucia Day), and grabbed Saya. We were ready to celebrate, whether people were open to the idea or not.
First I texted Marsha: am coming to u with candles on my head.
Marsha, early riser that she is, was already driving to San Jose for a little Xmas shopping. She actually turned the car around and drove home.
She texted me back: am coming back. cannot miss this.
She greeted me with her camera, which is how I got this shot as I dropped off her lussekatter:
(Sorry about the wrinkles in my white robe. It was sitting in a box for the last year, and I have a strict no-ironing policy.)
Then it was off to Susanna's house, where I was greeted like Santa Claus by her four-year old Mari (who had a look of awe in her eyes as I came to the door). We had a wonderful morning as we lit candles on the Lucia wreath, ate the still-warm bread, and played games trying to break our pepparkakor into four pieces (considered good luck).
Here, you can kind of see the wreath in the lower right corner (click the photo to enlarge):
As you can see, Saya was accosted by Susanna's kids. Mari matter-of-factly told me: "Everyone in my family likes your baby." Which I appreciated!
Socially Awkward Swedish Moment #3:
Susanna: What a beautiful red sash! What does it symbolize?
Me: Blood.
Susanna: Oh.
Then it was off to Nicole's. She was the "friend" who told me that she would "kill" me if I showed up at her house with candles on my head. Which of course I then proceeded to threaten to do. And then did. It was great. She was still sleeping when I showed up. She sounded sleepy and PISSED when I knocked on her door. Then she started laughing hysterically when she realized what was actually happening, and jumped right out of bed.
The best part was this. As I was jumping out of my car to harass Nicole, I noticed someone in the neighboring house looking out their window at me. I thought, oh lordy, they are going to think I need to be institutionalized.
But...quite the contrary! As I was leaving Nicole's, an extremely friendly woman burst out of the neighboring house, camera in hand, yelling "HAPPY SANTA LUCIA DAY!" I was so relieved (and happy) that she knew who I was! Turns out she lived in Denmark for several years and was feeling nostalgic. She was so happy to see me, I felt like Santa Claus for the second time that day.
I completed my rounds at our Swedish neighbors'. The woman (who has two small kids) looked so happy that she was about to cry. She explained that she had tried to make her own lussekatter earlier in the week, but that it hadn't turned out because she didn't get the European cooking conversions right. Her bread had turned out hard as a rock, and she was thrilled to have some warm buns to eat on St. Lucia morning.
Then I went back to my apartment to treat myself to another kind of warm buns, if you know what I mean.
And that, my friends, was how it went down. NOT AWKWARD AT ALL!!! Just pure happy.
To my mom, not knowing about and celebrating one's culture is tantamount to heresy. She believes in celebrating all holidays, great and small, and only needs a little bit of encouragement (or, no encouragement) to adopt others' holidays. Her exuberance is really catching.
For example. My mom had a Polish friend who baked a cake in the shape of a lamb every Easter. Are we Polish? No. Do we know the significance of this tradition? No. But do we now bake a lamb-shaped cake every Easter? You betcha!
So imagine my mom's horror when she married a man who - gasp! - had lost his Swedish cultural identity in the melting pot of white America. What could she do to resuscitate his ethnic identity...except to buy a bunch of Swedish holiday decorations and start CELEBRATING?! From the time I was a little girl, my mom made a heart-warmingly big deal about the Swedish St. Lucia holiday.
For those of you who are not familiar, let me explain about St. Lucia day. Basically, it pays homage to a martyred Italian saint, Lucia. There are several versions of the story of her martyrdom, which you can read here. The short version is that Lucia pledged herself to a life of chastity, but a pagan Roman soldier wanted to marry her. In some versions of the story, Lucia gouges out her own eyes in order to not cast her eyes upon him (um, crazy!?!). Anyway, homeboy (the Roman soldier) got pissed about this, and sent some soldiers to kill her. Miraculously, attempts to burn her at the stake and remove her from her home did not work. Unmiraculously, her divine protection ended there and she ended up getting stabbed to death.
In Sweden, celebrating St. Lucia Day on December 13 basically became an excuse for parents to get breakfast in bed. Little girls wake up very early on this morning, dress themselves in a white robe with a red sash, place a wreath of candles on their head, and bring their parents breakfast in bed while singing the traditional St. Lucia song. (You can read about the significance of these traditions on Wikipedia).
Growing up, Maryn and I celebrated St. Lucia Day every year. We woke early, dressed in our white gowns with red sashes, donned our battery-operated candle head wreaths, and brought breakfast to our parents in bed. Breakfast is not complete without hot breakfast buns and pepparkakor, a flower-shaped ginger cookie that you can usually buy at Ikea or your local Safeway (look for Anna's cookies in the box with the Swedish flag). My mom always made the day extra special by giving us a little Swedish themed present (a straw ornament, a necklace) and making Swedish meatballs with crispy Hasselback potates for dinner.
Socially Awkward Swedish Moment #1:
Dressing up as St. Lucia for Halloween. Yes, I did this as a kid. And, obviously, no-one knew who I was. I remember trick-or-treating in my costume.
Family answering knock: Wow, it's the Statue of Liberty!
(To be fair, St. Lucia does look a LOT like Lady Liberty.)
Me (matter of fact): Actually, I'm a martyr. St. Lucia...ever heard of her?
Family (shifting uncomfortably): Um, no.
Anyway...
This year I was feeling nostalgic about celebrating. I still have my costume in a box, and even though my plastic wreath is being held together with Scotch tape and half of the candles don't work, it still lights up. I thought that I would go ahead and celebrate St. Lucia day.
We live in an apartment across from a Swedish family. They have a Swedish flag hanging in their window and we can always hear them speaking Swedish. I've only waved to them and had a short conversation with them before, but I thought that it would be fun if I showed up at their door dressed up as St. Lucia, bearing gifts of saffron buns and pepparkakor. I thought they would appreciate it and feel like it was a little taste of home.
Socially Awkward Swedish Moment #2:
I shared my idea with a few different people (N=5) who did not disguise the looks of horror on their faces when I shared this idea. I was told that the Swedes would think I was a "weirdo" and "insane" for showing up dressed in a costume at the crack of dawn. Another friend told me that she would "kill me" if I showed up at her house like that. I was asked "DO YOU EVEN KNOW THESE PEOPLE?" And when I replied "no" in a small voice, their looks of horror and incredulity only increased. It made me sad. Not only because their reactions made me feel that I'd lost touch with reality (and what is considered normal or not, hahaha) but also because I didn't have support for celebrating my special holiday. Sniff!
So...I decided to celebrate anyway. I awoke at 5 a.m. on December 13th and proceeded to bake for three hours. I had to make dough, wait for it to rise, shape the dough, bake it, etc. Did I mention that I've never actually attempted to make bread before?
First, I attempted to make cross-shaped Lussekatter, the traditional sweet St. Lucia saffron buns. I used the recipe I found here, and only kind of freaked out when I realized the recipe never said what to do with the sugar. Doh! (Or in this case, Dough!) I added it in at the last minute, which meant that it didn't get incorporated as well as I'd hoped, but I think the buns still turned out well, and tasted great:
Then, I made a traditional St. Lucia currant and saffron wreath, which turned out really beautifully (and which I did not get a good picture of, unfortunately). I used this recipe.
I wrapped up the breads, donned my costume, packed up some candles, pepparkakor, lingonberry jam, and napkins with Swedish flags on them (a gift from my mom from a different St. Lucia Day), and grabbed Saya. We were ready to celebrate, whether people were open to the idea or not.
First I texted Marsha: am coming to u with candles on my head.
Marsha, early riser that she is, was already driving to San Jose for a little Xmas shopping. She actually turned the car around and drove home.
She texted me back: am coming back. cannot miss this.
She greeted me with her camera, which is how I got this shot as I dropped off her lussekatter:
(Sorry about the wrinkles in my white robe. It was sitting in a box for the last year, and I have a strict no-ironing policy.)
Then it was off to Susanna's house, where I was greeted like Santa Claus by her four-year old Mari (who had a look of awe in her eyes as I came to the door). We had a wonderful morning as we lit candles on the Lucia wreath, ate the still-warm bread, and played games trying to break our pepparkakor into four pieces (considered good luck).
Here, you can kind of see the wreath in the lower right corner (click the photo to enlarge):
As you can see, Saya was accosted by Susanna's kids. Mari matter-of-factly told me: "Everyone in my family likes your baby." Which I appreciated!
Socially Awkward Swedish Moment #3:
Susanna: What a beautiful red sash! What does it symbolize?
Me: Blood.
Susanna: Oh.
Then it was off to Nicole's. She was the "friend" who told me that she would "kill" me if I showed up at her house with candles on my head. Which of course I then proceeded to threaten to do. And then did. It was great. She was still sleeping when I showed up. She sounded sleepy and PISSED when I knocked on her door. Then she started laughing hysterically when she realized what was actually happening, and jumped right out of bed.
The best part was this. As I was jumping out of my car to harass Nicole, I noticed someone in the neighboring house looking out their window at me. I thought, oh lordy, they are going to think I need to be institutionalized.
But...quite the contrary! As I was leaving Nicole's, an extremely friendly woman burst out of the neighboring house, camera in hand, yelling "HAPPY SANTA LUCIA DAY!" I was so relieved (and happy) that she knew who I was! Turns out she lived in Denmark for several years and was feeling nostalgic. She was so happy to see me, I felt like Santa Claus for the second time that day.
I completed my rounds at our Swedish neighbors'. The woman (who has two small kids) looked so happy that she was about to cry. She explained that she had tried to make her own lussekatter earlier in the week, but that it hadn't turned out because she didn't get the European cooking conversions right. Her bread had turned out hard as a rock, and she was thrilled to have some warm buns to eat on St. Lucia morning.
Then I went back to my apartment to treat myself to another kind of warm buns, if you know what I mean.
And that, my friends, was how it went down. NOT AWKWARD AT ALL!!! Just pure happy.
That's awesome, I love the Dough! And, for future reference, if we're ever living in the same town please feel free to visit me whenever you want with baked goods!
Posted by
Anita |
January 7, 2009 at 3:39 AM
I love everything about this post.
Posted by
Unknown |
January 7, 2009 at 7:41 AM
THIS is officially the best blog post ever. I love it. I wish I could have been there and gone around with you! Sadly, though, I never had a real white satin gown, just an old weird nightgown, I think. So I would have been "homeless St. Lucia." But I can't believe you made the buns and everything. Awww! This story epitomizes you as a human being! Love it!
Posted by
Maryn |
January 7, 2009 at 8:32 AM
Aw man, I want to live near you! You're the coolest person, Ash! That's such a cool thing to do! Love it!
Posted by
Mishy |
January 7, 2009 at 2:10 PM
I LOVED my St. Lucia day visit. The "kill" and "crazy" comments were just about the middle of the night. I thought bringing them to your neighbors was super sweet (just not at daybreak...). My favorite part of the post, though... was the sash story. Awesome.
Posted by
Nicole |
January 7, 2009 at 3:48 PM