This week, we appear to have fallen victim to the vicissitudes of the weather, as Sogndal shows no sign of offering a reprieve from the rain any time soon, save for a few fleeting peeks of sunlight throughout the day. But if we allowed showers to fully deflate our spirits, we would simply wither away from boredom, and one doesn’t come to Norway for that to happen. And so we soldier on.
My mom and I paid a visit to Marit in the late morning to chat and have coffee, the clear activity of choice for days when the rain impedes any dreams one may have had of a grand expedition. (This barista assures you this is not a complaint.) Joining our discussion was Marco, whose calm state of relaxation was briefly replaced by piqued anticipation upon hearing that he would be paid a visit later in the day by his brother, Rocco.
After a brief recess to recollect ourselves (and collect my father), Marit had kindly invited us over for dinner, so we joined her, Geir, Silje Marie, and Kristine for another meal. Dinners at their house have become some of my favorite times here in Norway–and no, Geir, I am not only writing this because I know you are reading. It would seem obvious to say the reason for this is the steadily flowing conversation that results from the entire family’s good grasp of English, but that, in truth, is only a small fraction of the explanation, and it would be entirely incorrect to suggest that our fondness for any given family is correlated with their comfort with our preferred language. My parents, of course, have a special kinship with this family, having stayed in their home during their visit last year. But I have also come to deeply appreciate not only their hospitality and good humor, but also the alacrity with which I came to feel comfortable around them. There is polite conversation, and then there is honest conversation, and while the two are not mutually exclusive, the latter category is one you reserve for people you trust, and Geir and Marit are definitely that.
Between dinner and dessert, and prior to Karl-Andre’s arrival, Geir offered us the chance to tour the Quality Hotel in Sogndal, where he works the night shift. My parents had received a similar showing last year, but the hotel has enjoyed several new additions since their last sighting, so many of the inside areas were also new for them. I loved the design concept of the reception area, with a front desk meant to mimic the look of a fjord bisecting a glacier, funneling guests to the living area that pays homage to the mountains with minimalist yet towering stonework.
I have stayed in many hotels in the United States, many of them claiming the highest star ratings we have to offer, but this hotel in Sogndal had many amenities and features I have never seen previously. Geir explained that the rooms are able to sense the number of guests currently inside and are able to adjust climate conditions accordingly. Further, the temperature control is seamlessly integrated with the opening and closing of balcony doors and windows, so that a guest’s introduction of outdoor air is automatically factored into the heating or cooling of the room. Heating and air quality is maintained by leveraging the natural geothermal and filtration capabilities of the nature that surrounds the hotel, adding yet another layer of symbiosis, rather than competition, with the environment. It was a clear illustration that, if you are willing to make the environment a priority and design and invest accordingly, it is still possible to maintain many of our most cherished modern luxuries.
After partaking in a perfect dessert of vanilla ice cream, raspberry coulis, and sjokoladefondant (as best I can tell, we would refer to this as molten chocolate cake in the U.S.), we arrived at my favorite part of the day. I had shared with Marit early in our visit that I am a big fan of cooking, and she graciously offered to show me how to make fiskekaker–fish cakes. So, donning an apron adorned with Wisconsin cows–a gift from my parents’ previous visit that undoubtedly empowered me with renewed fortitude–I joined her in the kitchen for a lesson. The recipe of minced cod (torsk), potato flour, salt, and a seasoning blend of various spices produced a bounty of moist, attractively seared fish morsels that we will excitedly devour for our next meal in Sogndal. (I can neither confirm nor deny that my dad and I snuck sample bites during the cooking and were quick enthusiasts.) Marit, thank you for being such a great teacher and for offering to show me around your kitchen. This truly was one of my favorite activities so far in Sogndal, and I look forward to cooking with you again any time you will have me!
Food Network, let’s talk.
Where the Waterfalls Mean Home 