To continue the tradition of serving Scandinavian food like I did in my last post, I introduce to you today probably the strangest recipe I’ve ever made.
Before attempting this questionable recipe myself, I had tasted gravlax a few times in the past, my taste buds wondering why it wasn’t simply labeled “salmon” because that’s sure what it tasted like.
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I’ve probably mentioned that I’m Scandinavian. I’m not a full-blooded Swede or Norwegian like most of my grandparents, but I’m two-thirds Norwegian alone, with a dash of Swedish blood thrown in there for good measure. I’m the stereotypical Minnesotan girl of a century ago, only in the year 2016 and with treasured modern conveniences like heated seats and convection ovens.
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