Janssons Frestelse (Swedish Potato Casserole)

Ingredients: potato, onion, cream, butter, bread crumbs, Swedish pickled sprats

Janssons frestelse (Jansson’s Temptation) is a curiosity of Swedish cuisine. What a strange name! And such strange flavor to boot. But for the locals, this potato casserole is pure husmanskost — comfort food, home cooking. No smörgåsbord (traditional Swedish buffet) is complete without Janssons frestelse, especially around Christmas time.

The name Janssons frestelse is actually a reference to a Swedish movie from 1928, which was popular at the time of the dish’s invention. I find it funny because “temptation” implies that the casserole is some kind vice, in the vein of Chocolate Sin Cake. Janssons frestelse certainly does require a boatload of cream to make, and is otherwise a giant pile of carbs, but I don’t think such things have ever been considered sinful here (or anywhere else in Europe). The name was catchy though, and has persisted long after the movie was forgotten.

Texturally, this dish is pretty similar to a cheesy potato gratin. Tastewise, I can think of no comparison. The unique flavor profile comes from ansjovis, which you might think means “anchovies.” You’d be wrong, but you’d be in the warm company of hundreds of semi-tragically mistranslated recipes. An ansjovis is a fish, but tastes nothing like French/Italian anchovies. It’s a type of herring, and it’s sold pickled in tins with a very specific spice blend, including white vinegar, sugar, salt, cinnamon, allspice, bay leaf, ginger, clove, and sandalwood. See, I told you there was no comparison!

To make a Janssons frestelse is very simple. Open a tin of ansjovis (which you can actually find for sale in the commissary at IKEA) and mix the brine with 2 cups of cream (or a mixture of milk and cream). Fill a casserole by alternating layers of shredded potato, ansjovis fillets, and thinly-sliced, skillet-browned onions. Pour in the seasoned cream, not quite filling the casserole but close enough so that the potatoes can soak it up. Then sprinkle bread crumbs all over, followed by a drizzle of melted butter. Bake for an hour.

I can understand someone not caring for Janssons frestelse, but to my foreigner’s palate, it’s absolutely delectable. There is no taste of fish whatsoever, just a pleasant savory fullness. In fact I love the vibrancy that happens as my tastebuds try to figure out whether or not this is a dessert.

Another nice thing about Janssons frestelse is that it tastes just as good from the fridge as it does from the oven – surely the mark of a great casserole!

Crawfish Skagenröra

Ingredients: crawfish, shrimp, red onion, scallion, wasabi-flavored vegetarian caviar, crème fraîche, mayonnaise, lemon juice, lemon zest, salt, black pepper.

Served with: potato, avocado, cucumber, red bell pepper, iceberg lettuce, dill, lemon slices.

I was very fortunate this week to be offered leftovers from a kräftskiva (crawfish boil – a summertime tradition in Sweden). Many thanks to my friends Kenth and Lena for bringing me some of the biggest crawfish I’ve ever seen. They were caught in a stream near Lena’s parents’ farm, then boiled in salted water with beer and dill. I enjoyed a few as-is, but I wanted to make something special with the rest.

Skagenröra is one of my favorite Swedish delicacies. [Although it is named after a Danish beach, I believe the dish was first created in Sweden.] It’s a creamy seafood salad featuring shrimp and caviar, often supplemented (sadly) with imitation crab. I hardly ever buy it in the supermarket for that reason. Ironically, then, I decided to try vegetarian caviar for this experiment. It’s made with seaweed extract, and thus has a fairly authentic oceany taste. It also provides the unique popping texture of caviar. Skagenröra typically includes a kick of chili sauce, so as a further experiment, I got the wasabi-flavored caviar. In the end, it was too subtle to matter.

I started by blending together mayonnaise and crème fraîche, then thinning with a bit of lemon juice. Since I had the lemon in hand, I scraped some zest into the mix as well. To this I added finely diced red onion and scallion, plus the caviar, then set the bowl aside to let the onion flavors permeate while I shelled the crawfish. When that messy time-consuming procedure was finished and the kitchen was clean, I gently folded the crawfish and a small package of bay shrimp into the dressing. The skagenröra was complete! And it tasted great. The fresh crawfish claws and tails were delicious, the shrimp were non-textural but adequate in flavor, and the dressing was perky and smooth. A Swede might question the omission of fresh dill, but I could taste it in the crawfish (which had been boiled with dill).

I prepared a nice plate of veggies for my salad, including iceberg lettuce, red bell pepper, cucumber, avocado, and cold boiled potato. I should have also boiled an egg or two, for authenticity’s sake, but it was plenty of food. All the flavors worked really well together, and it even managed to feel healthy!