Imagining Norse Rock Stars
Al Gore may have thought he created the Internet to enable people to publicize climate change documentaries, but it’s really to help housewives find recipes from the 1960’s edition of the Chatelaine Cookbook. Like this one for Mayonnaise or Potato Scones with Raisins (which I didn’t have so I used currents.)
Even better warm with butter. Mmmmmmm…..
I discovered this recipe when I was a teen and I had to do that group project on World Cultures. We picked Great Britain and, as a result, I still know some of the words to Knees Up Mother Brown, and have a fondness for this recipe, which I made over and over. By the way, you may notice that it is called Mayonnaise or Potato Scones, but there are no instructions for using potato. This made me laugh, because I never made the potato version and apparently, neither did anyone else.
The kids helped out and rocked out, as well.
We may need to start calling Princess, “Nordic Princess.” My Sweetheart and I, while tracing our cultural roots to German and Ukrainian, actually trace a fair chunk of our ethnic roots to Norwegian and Swedish relatives that were (and remain) long gone. We often joke that all our Norse DNA conglomerated in little Princess. (Which reminds me of the time I was chatting with a fellow Mom about our kids, and how blondie didn’t look like anyone else. She shouted out, “DID YOU HAVE AN AFFAIR? BWAH HAHA!! WELL, I HOPE IT WAS A GOOD ONE!! BWAH BWAH HAHAHA.” Why yes, as a matter of fact, it was in the lobby of our kids’ Catholic school. Anyways….) My Husband got a surprise when he fired up the video for Little Talks by the Icelandic band Of Monsters and Men (which I am sure you hear everywhere, or at least at Save-On-Foods at 9:45 in the evening.) He said that the co-singer, Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir’s eyes looked a lot like Princess’.
I’m a little nuts for everything Icelandic since I read a mystery novel by Arnaldur Indridason. Even their names are cool. Wouldn’t you love to be called Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir? Though I supposed in Reykjavik there’s some girl wishing her name was Emily, or Meghan. Or Liz.
Anyways, my kids are crazy for Little Talks, which is great because it replaces Little Lion Man (and we all know how that goes.) Seeing a photo of the band, they were convinced that one of the members was a contestant on a kid’s game show called Zoink’d, where he balanced a chair on his face. This lead to a bunch of face balancing of our own.
Then, when that didn’t work out, baby bibs.
All this fun made Baby cranky, so I had to walk her around and watching the Chokecherry wave in the wind. This is the time when I think. Like how did someone think of Mayonnaise Scones with Raisins? You could just mix up a paste of wheat and water, and choke it back. The nutritional value might even be higher without a vitamin killing trip through the oven. It was someone’s ability to imagine that food should taste good, mentally create the idea of a recipe and then execute it that led to my nummy snack, and for that matter, led to pretty much the entire man-made world. Even the most mundane things embody part of what makes man human: the ability to conceptualize reality and act on it, whether a song, a scone or a sonnet. Even the Internet is nothing more than a big idea, represented by the written word and picture, and transmitted through electronic signals throughout the world. So that we here can rock out to Icelandic bands, while eating Canadian treats, on a sunny morning.
But maybe I think too much. I should go eat some leavened sweetened dough before it’s all gone. Skál!