Nordicfest: A smorgasbord of events and opportunities

Hold on to your collective bunads, folks, because the much-anticipated Nordicfest is here.

Hope you got a peek at the special section on the 28th annual festival that was included in the Wednesday edition of The Western News because so very much is scheduled — three days chocked full of everything for the entire family from the parade and Fjord Horse Show for the kids, crafts and the Hardanger exhibit for mom, and what guy doesn’t want to sample at least some of the smorgasbord — and, literally, there is a Swedish smorgasbord — of foods?

I know I’ll be there sampling a little of this and, probably a little more of that.

The Scandinavian foods, particularly the Swedish variety harken back to my childhood when we delved into one Swedish dish after another.

My maternal great-grandmother — Grandma Carlsson (yes, with the double-S) was right off the boat from Stockholm via Ellis Island.

Grandma, God bless her, lived to be 98-years-old. ... I never knew my great-grandfather, as he was a carpenter in Chicago, but he passed before my formative years.

Shucks, I still remember my grandmother in the early ’60s in her heavy Swedish dialect talking about working in the garment district of Chicago. She was a heck of a seamstress, making all her clothes at home, after working all day in the Windy City. I can’t imagine what pay she made a day there, but she took the train every day from Des Plaines, Ill., into the big city.

The best part for a six- or seven-year-old kid was her Swedish meatballs.

I remember having being told to “leave some for  everyVONE else.”

And, when I wasn’t the first to dig in and fill my plate, she’d ask: “What’s wrong? You don’t like my meatballs today?”

Yes, Grandma. I’m just waiting..”

You see, after awhile, this lad discovered if I waited until the end, I could take more than if I started the line, because by then, most everyone was not focused on the dish to see the meatball transfer to my plate.

She often monitored the table, making sure nothing would run low and to make sure the grandkids got a good mix of meat and vegetables.

She was the matriarch, and NO ONE dared to cross her. She was like the traffic cop for the table.

Tough ol’ gal. Like I said, she lived to be 98.

Certainly, when I indulge this weekend on some Swedish delights, I’ll be thinking of Grandma. I can almost hear her now.

“Go easy on those, Alan. There’s more there than meatballs,” and then she’d wink at me.

*   *   *

I got out last  Sunday for a drift-boat float on the Kootenai, and gosh it was heavenly.

Started out about 10 a.m., putting in at Osprey Landing and drifting all the way down to Riverfront Park.

Gosh, it was a great day.

No clouds.

No phones.

And, oh, how the trout were hitting the ’hoppers.

Caught a handful, the largest being about 18 inches.

Had a terrific strike about 90 minutes into the trip.

This huge lunker came up, gulped the fly and in the instant it was gone, as was the fly and about four feet of my tippet.

No chance for this one. 

I had four-pound test tippet on, and it wasn’t even a challenge for this lunker. Just gulp and gone.

I wish we had met, though. I would have explained I just wanted to play, and he would be returned afterward.

Just a great day on the water.

I also want to thank Charlie Welch for the trip. You see, when I go, usually I row. This time, Charlie rowed for me, so I could fish.

Like I said, Great Day. Thanks, Chas!

Alan Lewis Gerstenecker is editor of The Western News. His column appears weekly.)