No recipe included in this post.
Coming from a Norwegian family, it’s no surprise that we eat lefse a lot, is it? Lefse was a staple when we’d visit Grandma and Grandpa Colby, especially at holiday time. I have vague memories of it being made a time or two when I was little, but mostly, that task was accomplished before all the little feet and extra “helping” hands came to visit.
Now that we are older and the desire to stay connected to our roots is stronger, we’ve begun making it ourselves. It IS much tastier when we make it than when we buy it. I only wish that Grandma could come to visit and be here when we do make it.
This year we made some lefse during our Thanksgiving trip to Wisconsin. It was still made at Grandma and Grandpa Colby’s house, but this time the grandparents are one generation younger and the grandchildren not only helped, but they had major roles in every step of the process
Ricing the cooked potatoes:
Mixing the dough:
Rolling (do any experienced lefse makers see a problem in this photo???):
Cooking:
And, of course, eating:
