A TASTE OF NATURE

The Scandinavians are widely known as brilliant designers, and much of what they have designed, crafted and sent out into the world for the past three decades has been for the beautification of the table-porcelain, silverware, crystal, linen. It is not so widely known that they are excellent cooks as well. It should stand to reason, however, that a people who could care so much about the way a table looks would also care vitally about food, and the Scandinavians do.
Why, then, with the exception of the smorgasbord, is their cooking relatively unknown? The Scandinavians are in a way themselves to blame. They are all too shy about it. Having industrialized late and thus begun to emerge from a background of rural poverty only within the last century, they still tend to see their wonderful native cuisine in humble terms. Besides, for generations their aristocrats, intoxicated by all things Gallic, had pounded home the idea that the only real cooking was French. Still influenced by this tradition, Scandinavian restaurants go on serving somewhat gallicized dishes to foreign guests, while the Scandinavians keep hidden in their kitchens those they like best and are best at preparing.
What is Scandinavian food? It is many things: fish, of course, but pork and poultry as well; beets, potatoes, cucumbers; dill, parsley and horseradish; apples and almonds; cream and that golden product of cream, butter. The cooking is pure, and it is simple. Foods taste of themselves in the North: they smack of the sea, or a fresh-water lake, or even the earth. And some, like the garnet lingonberry or the sand-colored mushroom, are not only born of the forest, but bring a breath of pines or birches to the table with them. It is this palatable communion with nature that makes Scandinavian food appealing.
I know, having once been, a rather long time ago, a very skinny student in Copenhagen-a Danish hostess' dream, someone to fatten up. Whenever I have returned to Scandinavia since then, I have never failed to eat well, and have never ceased to be amazed that so much freshness and naturalness can still exist in the world. On my last visit, with my wife and year-old daughter, I felt myself undergoing the same mental and physical refreshment I had experienced in previous stays, and this despite the fact that we had come to Scandinavia in mid autumn when the afternoons were shrinking into darkness. Each day the sky seemed to descend a little lower, a blind being inched down toward the horizon. And everywhere we went rain fell. A depressing time of year-and yet not really; it is the time of year in Scandinavia when people go back inside their homes, when friends and food and entertaining are much on their minds. Wheeling our daughter in her stroller along the darkening streets, we seemed forever to be passing through delicious aromas-invisible ribbons curling out of unseen kitchens, trails we wished we could have followed, invitations we wanted to accept.
Scandinavian food is romantic. There is something about it of the fairy tale- curds and whey, porridge, fruit tarts. The distant past clings to it. Many of the foods and some of the dishes the Vikings ate are still consumed by their descendants. The Vikings loved oysters and mussels; they savored mutton, cheese, cabbage, apples, onions, berries and nuts, and all these continue to be staples of the Scandinavian diet. The Vikings raised chickens and geese, and they hunted wild birds, elk, deer and bear, just as their modern counterparts do. Even a few of the more esoteric tastes of the Vikings live on. The Norwegians insist that a whale steak properly marinated and broiled can taste as good as beef; some Swedes rave about smoked horseflesh, which they refer to as "hamburger" and buy thinly sliced.
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