A Vintage Norwegian Cod Dinner: Prince Fish with Asparagus and Wilted Cabbage with Bacon and Dill

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The book smells of old cabin wood, dusty, stale, with a hint of cedar. Printed back in the 1960s, it’s more than a half century old, in pristine condition apart from the torn corners of the jacket. Flipping through the unmarked, thick creamy pages and the still-crisp yet rustic deckle edge, I can’t help but wonder if had been forgotten on a bookshelf decades ago.

AsparagusAndCookbookDiptych

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I love old cookbooks, and have collected many Scandinavian and Nordic ones throughout the years. They offer clues to another time, often in subtle ways, and I can’t help but wonder how these might provide clues into what life must have been like for past generations of my family. I found my copy of The Complete Scandinavian Cookbook by Alice B. Johnson at Powell’s Books in Portland a while back. Nestled among Scandinavian and Nordic cookbooks both old and new in the high, crowded shelves, it made its way to mine, where I had all but forgotten again until this spring. With recipes grouped by country, it made it easy for me to go straight to the section on Norway and draft a menu for a vintage Norwegian dinner featuring one of the country’s most beloved fish: cod.

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Gently poached and then dressed in a creamy white sauce accented with a hint of mustard, the cod is simple yet flavorful. Vibrant asparagus gives the otherwise pale dish a splash of color. I served it alongside a dish of wilted cabbage with pieces of crunchy bacon and flecks of fresh dill.

I’ve preserved the essence of both recipes but have tweaked them a bit to reflect my tastes–primarily with the addition of a little mustard in the white sauce, a touch that livens it up and makes it something I can’t get enough of. There’s something deliciously old-school about both of these recipes. They’re neither new nor inventive, rather traditional and just the things to trigger nostalgia in each and every bite.

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Norwegian “Prince Fish” with Asparagus and White Sauce (Prinsefisk)
This recipe and the following are both adapted from The Complete Scandinavian cookbook by Alice B. Johnson (1964).

For the fish:
Approximately 1.5 pounds of cod fillets, skin and bones removed
Salt and pepper

For the Asparagus:
1 bunch fresh asparagus
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
¼ teaspoon salt

For the sauce:
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
1 cup milk
1/3 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup whole grain mustard
1/8 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Pat cod dry and season with salt and pepper, then set aside.

Place asparagus spears in a baking dish and toss with olive oil and salt, then roast until tender, 10-15 minutes depending on thickness. Cover and keep warm.

While the asparagus roasts, place the cod in a large pan in a single water and pour water around to just cover. Gently poach until just cooked through. Reserve a cup or so of the water and drain, covering the cod to keep it warm.

To make the sauce, melt butter in a saucepan over medium-low heat. Stirring constantly, add flour until it seizes up, then gradually pour in the milk while continuing to stir until it thickens a bit. Pour in the whipping cream and add mustard and salt, continuing to stir until it starts to reach a boil. Taste and adjust the salt as needed. If you need to loosen it up a bit, add a little of the reserved water, starting with a tablespoon or two, until it reaches the desired consistency.

Arrange the asparagus on a platter. Place the cod on top, then generously pour over the sauce. Boiled potatoes would be a perfect accompaniment.

Serves 4.

Wilted Cabbage with Fresh Dill and Bacon (Kål med Dill og Flesk)
A study in contrasts, the softness of the cabbage–which has yielded to the heat–gets livened up with crunchy bacon and the herby flavor of fresh dill. Do be careful with the amount of salt–you may need more or less depending on the saltiness of the bacon.

1 large head cabbage
4 slices bacon (I used uncured applewood-smoked bacon)
1 leek, white and light green parts only, thinly sliced
A handful of chopped dill, plus more for garnish
Approximately 1/2 teaspoon salt (see note above)
Freshly-ground pepper, to taste

Slice the cabbage into 1-inch strips, discarding the core.

In a large pan, fry the bacon over medium-high heat until crisp, then remove to a paper towel-lined plate and pour off all but a tablespoon of the fat. Add the sliced leek to the fat and cook over medium heat until lightly browned, about a minute or so. Add the cabbage, and scatter over the dill and the salt and pepper. Add about 1/2 cup water and bring to a simmer. Cover and simmer until the cabbage is tender, stirring it occasionally and adding additional water as necessary. Place in a serving dish and crumble the bacon over the top. Garnish with extra dill.

Serves 4.

CabbageAndBaconDiptych

Scandi-Style Salmon Burger in The Norwegian American

Scandi-Style Salmon Burger

A taste for the sea must run in my blood. Wild salmon grilled, cured, or smoked; oily silver-blue mackerel salted and grilled; humble cod, elegant with its understated opaque white flakes–these are foods my kitchen knows well. Most of the time I prefer fish cooked simply, brushed with olive oil and sprinkled with salt to accent the taste of its native waters. But every once in a while a recipe or idea comes along that warrants playing. Such is the case with the Scandi-style salmon burger I’m sharing today in the latest issue of The Norwegian American. This recipe is packed with the traditional Nordic flavors of salmon, dill, and rye, and its open format is a nod to the traditional Scandinavian smørbrød. Bright and flavorful, it’s a perfect transitional weather meal as we eagerly await the arrival of spring. Head over to the Norwegian American Weekly for the recipe.

Scandi-Style Salmon Burger Scandi-Style Salmon Burger

Smoked Mackerel and Dill Spread

Smoked Mackerel Spread

Over Mother’s Day weekend I sat on the porch with Mom, embracing the fresh air of spring with a glass of gentle white wine and this Scandi-worthy appetizer. The dish took a matter of minutes to prepare yet was something special to share with someone so dear to me. I thought I’d take a quick moment to share it with you today.

Smoked Mackerel Spread

Smoked Mackerel and Dill Spread
The idea for this easy appetizer or snack comes from Eat. Nourish. Glow. by Amelia Freer, who has been all over the media lately for her work helping celebrity clients get healthy and fit. I haven’t read the book, but I did spot this recipe from it and was excited to give it a try. I found packages of frozen smoked mackerel at Scandinavian Specialties in Seattle.

.40 pound smoked mackerel, skin removed
4 sprigs fresh dill, chopped
1/4 cup plain yogurt
1 tablespoon lemon juice
Freshly-ground black pepper
Crispbread, for serving

Start by roughly chopping the smoked mackerel and placing it in a medium bowl. Add the dill, yogurt, and lemon juice and stir, breaking the fish apart with the back of a spoon. Grind a little pepper over the top and stir again. Give it a taste and adjust the flavors a bit if necessary, perhaps adding a little dill or a touch more lemon if needed to balance out the oiliness of the fish. Serve with crispbread.

Serves 2.

New Potatoes and Chanterelles with Lemon and Dill

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As a Seattle-born Norwegian-American, a woman once removed from the country of her father, my way back to my heritage has been through its food. I’ve always loved being Norwegian. Dressing up in a child-sized bunad for Syttende Mai parades in the Scandinavian-rich neighborhood of Ballard, eating the traditional feasts my grandparents would serve us on holidays, listening to the heavy and melodic accent that wove its way through my relatives’ speech–this was my upbringing and I loved it. But there’s a difference between the cultures in which we’re raised as children and the ones that we embrace as adults. I grew out of the black and red bunad. My paternal grandparents aged and passed on. The adults who kept their heritage alive so vibrantly and shared it with me faded into memory. The culture was no longer handed to me and it started to become peripheral.

Grandma Agny’s death five years ago was a big turning point for me. I think I’ve mentioned before that I was going to ask her to start telling me her stories the day I got the phone call saying she had died. Grandma had been a young woman during the German occupation. She had a baby during the war, and she later uprooted her family and moved them to the United States. During my first trip to Norway in 2008, I became intrigued about her life–and the corresponding Norwegian history–and I wanted to know more. But I waited too long. Grandma’s death left me feeling a profound sense of loss, and in response I found myself seeking out elements of my heritage.

And that’s where the food comes in.

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I still remember scanning the spines of books at Barnes and Noble shortly after Grandma’s death. I had come up with the idea of looking for Scandinavian cookbooks, as though the food between their pages might provide some comfort or solace. I found just a couple: Aquavit and the New Scandinavian Cuisine by Marcus Samuelsson and The Great Scandinavian Baking Book by Beatrice Ojakangas. My journalistic tendency to research things in detail came into play and I started seeking out as many Scandinavian cookbooks as I could find. Nordic cooking wasn’t as much of a trend in the U.S. then as it is now, and it took a little digging. But I wanted to know more, to understand more. And it was becoming clear to me that the way in was going to be through the food.

As I explored my Norwegian heritage, I started Outside Oslo as a way to document what I was discovering. Although Scandinavian food had always been in my family’s repertoire while I was growing up, I was discovering it for myself. I was finally starting to get a sense of its origins, a sense of place. In the process, I was also beginning to understand my late grandmother more deeply.

Things look a lot different now, five years later. My grandparents’ generation is fading fast, but the opportunity I lost when Grandma Agny died is not entirely gone. I will never get her back, but I’m learning more about my family and its history as my father helps me fill in the gaps. I’ve heard stories of my other grandmother’s life and created countless sweet memories with her as she’s taught me how to make sandbakkels, lefse, krumkaker, and other Scandinavian treats. And now it’s my turn to share the heritage that my grandparents so graciously shared with me. As I’ve studied Nordic food and worked it into what I cook at home, I know that the culture that my family brought with them to America will continue to live on. I have two kids of my own now, and they will grow up knowing the pleasure of eating pannekaker for an occasional dinner, the taste of sweet heart-shaped vaffler served with gjetost (Norwegian brown goat cheese), and all the warmth and love that surround meals shared together at the table.

I never expected five years ago, in the darkest days of grief, that such richness was in store. But Grandma Agny had given me a gift by keeping her heritage alive and sharing it with me through all those Syttende Mai parades, traditional Norwegian meals, and with her generous heart.

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Today I’m still cooking my way through various Nordic recipes, sometimes returning to family classics, other times trying something new. Kitchen of Light: New Scandinavian Cooking with Andreas Viestad was one of the early books I discovered, and to this day it is one of my favorites. (I wrote a review a couple of years ago; despite receiving a copy from the publisher, I can say genuinely that this is an excellent book.) I had found it at the library while researching Scandinavian food, and this dish–chanterelles and potatoes with lemon and dill–was one of the first recipes I featured on the blog. I made it this week for my parents and was reminded of how just a few simple ingredients can be so satisfying: just new potatoes and chanterelles, flavored intensely with lemon, garlic, and dill. The season for chanterelles is fleeting, but if you can still find some, I hope you’ll give this recipe a try.

New Potatoes and Chanterelles with Lemon and Dill
Adapted from Kitchen of Light: New Scandinavian Cooking with Andreas Viestad

2 pounds new potatoes
½ pound (or more) chanterelle mushrooms
3 tablespoons butter
3 garlic cloves, pressed
Salt
Small handful of fresh dill, coarsely chopped, plus a few sprigs for garnish
Small handful of flat-leaf parsley, coarsely chopped
Lemon

Cook the potatoes in a pot of salted boiling water until tender, then drain. While the potatoes are cooking, trim the mushrooms and cut them lengthwise into halves or quarters, depending on their size. I like to keep them as large as possible, so I halve most of them, only quartering the really thick ones to make their size even with the rest. Melt the butter in a large skillet and add the mushrooms, stirring from time to time, until tender. Add garlic and a dash of salt, then cook for another moment just to take the edge of the garlic’s flavor. Add the mushrooms to the potatoes, making sure to spoon up all the flavorful butter from the pan. Add the dill and parsley, along with the juice of one lemon, and stir to combine. Add a little more salt if necessary, then transfer to a dish, garnish with dill sprigs, and serve.

Serves 4-6

Plums with Blue Cheese, Walnuts, and Crispbread

Plums with Blue Cheese and Dill

Circles of rye crisp roughly broken, sweet-tart plums and pluots oozing pink juices, creamy blue cheese releasing its pungent aroma from where it sits on a platter–these are the makings of a summer appetizer that came together the other day in preparation for a family dinner.

Crispbread and Plums

Red Stone Fruit

We strive to eat with the seasons in my home–berries and corn in the summer, apples and squash in the fall. I’ve been noticing lately that with its emphasis on seasonal and local foods, Seattle’s approach to eating mirrors the Nordic culinary philosophy. Farmers markets pop up all over the city, some running year-round. Many people plant edible gardens. Foraging for berries and mushrooms is a favorite pastime.

Today’s recipe, while hardly traditional, reflects that seasonal sensibility and makes use of some favorite Scandinavian ingredients. I’ll be honest, I manage to get to the farmers market less frequently than I would like. But even though the grocery stores around here stock virtually all types of produce all year long, I take care to shop wisely and focus on what’s fresh and at the peak of deliciousness. In this case, plums and pluots.

Cheese with Nuts and Plums

Four Plums

Plums with Blue Cheese

They’re pretty, aren’t they? After attending a food styling and photography workshop with Aran Goyoaga of Cannelle et Vanille this past weekend, I couldn’t wait to apply what I had learned in the dishes that I would create at home. These deep purple black plums and speckled orange pluots caught my eye and as I gathered a few to put in my cart, an appetizer began to take shape in my mind. Creamy blue cheese to offset the tart sweetness of the fruit, walnuts to give crunch, bright green dill for color, a drizzle of honey, and some crispbbread–that’s all it would take.

Simplicity in the kitchen has been a hard thing for me to learn, but time and time again I see proof that when you start with good ingredients, you don’t need to do much to make them shine. This particular recipe requires no cooking, only requiring that you start with the best ingredients you can find and that you slow down and enjoy the process of preparing the ingredients and lovingly arranging them on a platter. Once it’s ready, bring it out to your guests, open up some ice-cold refreshing beers, and sit down and enjoy the summer sun.

Plums and Walnuts

Crispbread with Plums and Blue CheesePlums with Blue Cheese, Walnuts, and Crispbread
An Outside Oslo Original

4 plums, or a combination of plums and pluots
6 ounces blue cheese*
3 ounces walnuts
1 small bunch fresh dill
Honey, for drizzling
2 large circles of crispbread, roughly broken into large pieces

Halve the plums, discard the pits, and cut into thin wedges. Arrange on a platter with the blue cheese and walnuts. Roughly chop the dill and scatter over the fruit. Drizzle honey over the fruit and serve with a bowl of crispbread pieces.

Serves 6.

*I used gorgonzola for this recipe. If you enjoy the strong flavor of Danish blue cheese, then go ahead and use it for an extra Scandinavian touch; I wanted to create a dish that would please a wide range of palates so I chose something a little lighter.

Plums on Norwegian Tray

Cucumber Salad for Your Scandinavian Midsummer Menu

Sliced CucumbersIn the beginning of my career as a journalist, I was paying my dues as a television news writer working in the middle of the night to prepare the morning newscast. Back then I would pull into the parking lot at the TV station located across the street from Seattle’s Lake Union and walk the two dozen feet from my car to the main entrance, swipe my badge at the door, wave hello to the graveyard security guard and settle in at my desk in the empty newsroom, the florescent lights mocking my tired eyes and the police and fire scanners blaring at the assignment desk and reminding me of the inability to fall asleep at my desk even if I tried.

Sliced Cucumbers

Back in those days, there was little time for a social life. I’d leave the newsroom around 9:30 or 10 in the morning, after most people have gone to work. I’d crawl into bed below windows covered with towels to block out the midday sun, and I’d sleep until that sun had gone to bed and it was time for me to repeat the process.

Cucumber and Dill Salad

I kept at it month after month, year after year. Six years ago, however, I made a change. No longer committed to a career in TV news, I found myself inspired to make a switch. I left a writers’ conference in Portland, Oregon, that June inspired to steer my skills toward print journalism. I gave it some time before making the move, and then later in the summer I gave my notice.

I spent the rest of the summer adjusting to a normal life, getting used to sleeping in the same bed as my husband for more than two times a week and getting used to sleeping–get this!–at night. I spent those August and September days sleeping late, talking walks to process things, and taking steps toward finding another job. If I picture that time in a snapshot, I think of my old neighborhood street illuminated by the gentle, warming rays of the sun. The sun! That bright object I had spent so many years covering up!

Sweet-and-Sour Cucumber Salad

I wonder if my experience reflects what Scandinavians feel this time of year when the sun stays out most of the day in contrast to the winter when it barely makes an appearance. Traveling to Bergen in the summer in 2008, I got my first taste of the Nordic summer sun. Going back to the hotel, closing the blinds, and going to sleep while the sun had not yet set wasn’t easy.

My family will be marking the summer solstice and Midsummer with a Scandinavian-inspired picnic this year. Simply prepared with salmon, pickled herring, a selection of Scandinavian cheeses, crispbread, dilled potatoes, and cucumber salad, all the components are chilling in the fridge right now, waiting to be enjoyed.

As I was preparing the menu, a cucumber salad was a necessity, but I found two that caught my eye. One, with cucumbers sliced thinly, was more of a quick pickle while the the other retained the watery crunch of the cucumbers but dressed them with dill. Both recipes are adapted from The Scandinavian Kitchen by Camilla Plum. Though the ingredients are similar, the results are quite different. Try one or both–or improvise and take cues from the second recipe and add dill to the first. In any case, these salads are distinctly Nordic, and they’ll add a fresh flavor to your Scandinavian Midsummer menu.

Sweet-and-Sour Cucumber Salad

Sweet-and-Sour Cucumber Salad

1 large (15.5 ounce) cucumber
1/3 cup water
1/3 cup cider vinegar
4 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon coarse sea salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Thinly slice the cucumber with a mandoline and place it in a heat-proof bowl. Bring water, vinegar, and seasonings to a boil in a small saucepan, stirring frequently. Pour over the sliced cucumbers and stir to coat. Cool, stirring occasionally. Serve right away or store in the refrigerator.

Serves 4-6.

Cucumber Salad with Dill

1 large (12.5 ounce) cucumber
1 small bunch of dill, stems and leaves, chopped finely (about 1 generous tablespoon)
1 tablespoon sherry vinegar
3/4 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Peel the cucumber and cut it in half lengthwise and scrape out the seeds. Cut it into 1/4-inch slices at a slat. Stir remaining ingredients together in a medium bowl. Toss the cucumbers with the dressing and marinate in the refrigerator for at least two hours before serving.

Serves 2-4.

Delicious Nostalgia: Boiled Cabbage with Butter and Dill

Cabbage with Butter and Dill

I wonder if all of us who cook bring a certain amount of nostalgia to the process. There are the dishes we remember from our childhood, those homey, cozy recipes that nothing can beat when it comes to comfort food. They are the staples of our family’s cooking repertoire that we come back to when we want a taste of home. And they satisfy, time and time again.

As a reluctant foodie, one who embodies the love of food that the term inhabits but chaffs at the title, I love chasing the next trend as much as the next enthusiastic eater. But it is the food of my youth and family heritage that intrigues me more than any.

Cabbage Half

Cabbage Slices

Outside Oslo has long been a means of discovery, a place where I can record and share what I’ve uncovered as I’ve explored the cuisine of Norway and its neighboring countries. I’ve featured some of my own family’s stories and recipes as well. Something I’ve discovered in the process is the value of hanging onto elements of the past as we move forward with the future. So much of a place’s history is evidenced in its cuisine; once you know a little bit about both, you can start seeing the correlation between the two. The same goes with family history. I love rummaging through my grandma Adeline’s old recipe boxes and her notebooks full of handwritten recipes. Through her handwriting and those of her friends and relatives, I find treasures that are priceless, and I am grateful that she has given me her collection now that she no longer cooks alone. Those recipes are filled with her stories and memories. Each time I get together with her to bake, I uncover little snippets of her life as she talks.

Dill and Cabbage

Cabbage in Pot

With all this about nostalgia in cooking, perhaps it won’t take much effort for me to convince you of the merits of writing about something as seemingly “anti-gourmet” as boiled cabbage on a food blog. To be honest, I wouldn’t have given this preparation a thought until I read about it in Nigel Slater’s Tender last week. In two paragraphs, this talented chef and author transformed my idea of boiled cabbage from a limp, soggy, tasteless mess into something luscious, incredibly simple, and comforting. Upon preparing it as a quick side dish for a weeknight meal, I was reminded of something deep in my past that I haven’t thought about for years: the steamed cabbage my mom used to make when I was growing up. I can’t remember the last time she made it, and I had forgotten how satisfying toothsome and nourishing it tasted. I guess some foods go out of fashion in families just like they do with global food trends. After rediscovering this though, I’ll be keeping it in my own cooking repertoire.

The key, I think, is in watching the cabbage carefully and removing it from the water at precisely the right moment. With a pat of butter, a sprinkling of salt, and some chopped fresh dill, the cabbage has a warm, thick yet silky quality and the flavors that any Norwegian would appreciate.

Cabbage with Dill

Boiled Cabbage with Butter and Dill
Inspired by Tender: A Cook and His Vegetable Patch by Nigel Slater and many meals of my childhood

1/2 head cabbage
1-2 tablespoons salted butter
1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill
Salt

Bring a large pot of water to a boil and liberally add salt. Meanwhile, slice cabbage into 1 1/2- to 2-inch-wide pieces and separate the leaves. Drop them in the water and cook just until the color begins to brighten and the cabbage softens slightly. This will take just a couple of minutes. Immediately remove the cabbage with a slotted spoon or sieve and allow to drain for a moment in a colander. Divide between two plates and top each serving with a pat of butter, a sprinkling of dill, and salt to taste. Serve immediately while still hot.

Note: Please don’t even consider making this in advance and reheating at serving time; fresh from the pot is best. Due to the quick preparation, it’s easy to prepare this recipe right before going to the table. If you’re preparing a meat dish that needs to rest, you can easily make the cabbage in those last few minutes as long as you have a pot of water boiling in advance.

Serves 2.

Dill in Scandinavian Cooking

Dill Sauce

When it comes to understanding Scandinavian cuisine, I’ve had to take a few steps back from my own experience and look at how the dishes and desserts I grew up eating fit within the culinary traditions of a people and a place. Sometimes just being in the midst of it–especially in one’s youth–provides the enjoyment of the moment without the appreciation or understanding of perspective.

Such was my experience with the holiday meals my dad’s parents served on Thanksgiving and Christmas when I was growing up. The pork roast, medisterkaker, surkål, steamed vegetables, and rice cream were standard fare at their house, and on one hand I knew that we were eating a Norwegian spread. But on the other hand, it took a trip to Norway as an adult, along with an active exploration of the foods of my heritage, for me to fully grasp the gift I had been given by experiencing those home-cooked meals year after year.

Tomato Salad with Dill

Since starting Outside Oslo several years ago, I’ve enjoyed having an outlet for sharing my explorations of Scandinavian cuisine and an excuse to get to know more fully what defines the foods of the Nordic countries. As I seek to build culinary traditions in my own home that reflect my family’s heritage, I love that I get to collect those notes and ideas and recipes here–and that you share your feedback and your own experiences as well!

The other day I built a meal around a commonly-used ingredient: dill. Danish food writer Camilla Plum, in her book The Scandinavian Kitchen, calls dill “the ultimate Nordic herb,” and I agree. In the early days of my Scandinavian culinary exploration, dill was one of the flavors that seemed to most represent the cuisine. It flavors everything from gravlax to cucumber salads with its grassy, springlike taste.

Green Beans and Mushrooms with Dill Vinaigrette

As I explored dill in Scandinavian cooking the other night, the main course was cod served with a creamy dill sauce–a traditional way of serving fish. For the accompaniments, I branched out and allowed the flavor to be my guide as I shopped for vegetables, choosing bright red tomatoes and alluring green beans to bring home.

A tomato salad came together easily, with a simple dressing of olive oil and red wine vinegar to accent the flavors of the tomato and dill. Thinking of what flavors would best suit a dill vinaigrette for green beans and mushrooms, I combined white wine vinegar and Dijon mustard, whisking in walnut oil to give it a soft, nutty profile that would pull all the flavors together.

I have included all three recipes here, two of them Outside Oslo originals. What are your favorite ways to work dill into your cooking? Please share–I’d love to hear from you!

Cold Dill Sauce
Serve this sauce–adapted from Scandinavian Classics by Niklas Ekstedt–with cod prepared in any way you’d like; broiling is an easy way.

1/2 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup sour cream
1/4 packed cup chopped fresh dill
Salt and pepper, to taste
Sugar, to taste

Mix mayonnaise, sour cream, dill, and a pinch each of salt, pepper, and sugar in a bowl until smooth. Taste and adjust seasonings as needed. Chill in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes to allow the flavors to meld and the salt and sugar to dissolve into the cream.

Green Beans and Mushrooms with Dill Vinaigrette
An Outside Oslo original

2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 cup walnut oil
1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill
1 pound green beans
1 1/2 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
8 ounces sliced mushrooms
Salt
1/4 cup sliced almonds

Stir together vinegar, mustard, and salt in a small bowl until the ingredients are combined and the salt has dissolved. Whisking constantly, slowly pour in the walnut oil and continue to whisk until emulsified. Gently stir in chopped dill. Refrigerate until ready to use. (Vinaigrette can be made several hours in advance.)

Steam green beans until tender. Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a large skillet, then add mushrooms and sauté until cooked but still al dente; season with a little bit of salt.

Arrange green beans on a platter, and top with mushrooms. Scatter sliced almonds over the vegetables, and drizzle the vinaigrette on top.

Grape Tomato Salad with Dill
An Outside Oslo original

1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 1/2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 pint grape tomatoes, halved lengthwise
2 teaspoons chopped fresh dill

Stir together vinegar and salt in a small bowl, then slowly add olive oil, whisking constantly until emulsified. Toss vinaigrette with the tomatoes until coated, then arrange in a shallow serving dish. Sprinkle chopped dill over tomatoes and serve.

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