(Fargo, MN, Christmas Eve, 3:30pm)
“Dinner is served! Maten är serverad!” Martha called them to dinner in both English and Swedish. While they made their way to the kitchen, Emily explained the Swedish traditions to Martin.
“We start off with the herring and the cold cuts. After that, some of the older people eat lutfisk while the rest of us eat meatballs, sausages and Jansson’s Temptation.”
“Slow down a little, will you? Herring?”
“Yes, remember I told you how my grandmother pickle her own herring. The traditional herring is pickled with onions and whole black peppers. But she has also made herring pickled in tomato sauce, in garlic sauce and my favorite: in mustard sauce. I’m sure you’ll like the garlic herring.”
“Perhaps. It sounds a bit weird to me, though.”
Martin filled his plate with a few pieces of herring from each pickle. He also added a couple of slices of turkey; a piece of liver sausage, some ham and something that looked like Spam. He sat down next to Emily. Martha slipped up behind them.
“White or yellow?” She asked Martin.
“Huh?”
“What kind of shot do you want to the herring?”
“Shot?”
“Yes, the white one is plain vodka and the yellow one is a Swedish specialty, called Besk. I recommend you try the Besk.”
“Sure, why not?”
Martin was very confused. The actually drank vodka shots to the Christmas dinner. This was way beyond weird. Emily added to the confusion.
“Make sure you finish the shot in one go,” she whispered. “It is considered bad form to ‘bite it’. Only women are allowed to do that.”
Before Martin had a chance to reply, John started singing a song in Swedish, while he raised his shot glass. Emily gave Martin a makeshift translation. Apparently it was a song about Santa’s little helpers. John ended the song with “Skål!”. Then he turned in the direction of Martin and Gary.
“Cheers,” he said. “Bottoms up.” He took the shot in one go and Martin felt compelled to follow his example. The shot left a burning sensation in Martin ’s throat and a bitter taste in his mouth. He looked at Gary. His reaction was about the same.
Martin needed to gather himself for a second before he could dig in. When he did dig in, he realized that the herring was actually very good. Emily was right about the garlic herring, it was delicious. The only thing Martin didn ’t like, was the Spam-like dish.
“What’s this?” he asked Emily.
“The dish is called ‘sylta’. It is calf’s meat and calf’s intestines in a gel. I don’t know why anyone would like to eat something like that.”
“Now you’re telling me!” When Martin walked over to the kitchen sink for seconds, he scraped the ‘sylta’ off his plate, into the dog’s bowl. The dog, Karo, seemed to love it. No one, besides Emily, seemed to notice his maneuver. She just smiled at him. Her eyes sparkled.
When Martin returned to the table, Martha had poured him another shot. She had watched his reaction after the first shot and decided to give him a vodka shot instead. She knew Besk was an acquired taste. It was not for everyone. Gary also got vodka this time.
The second song was about a fox that hurried across the ice. Emily tried to explain it, but Martin was none the wiser. Martin was careful not to bite his shot. The vodka was a bit smoother than the Besk. Martha filled their glasses as soon as they had emptied them.
“More herring, anyone?” she asked. They all shook their head. Better save some room for the meatballs, Martin thought.
Martha cleared the sink and replaced the herring with a couple of pots and an ovenproof casserole dish.
“You could try the lutfisk if you like, but it doesn’t taste much,” Emily told Martin.
“What is it?”
“Lutfisk is dried ling or coalfish, that has been boiled. It tastes like overcooked cod. I wouldn’t blame you if you skipped it, but you have to try Jansson’s Temptation.”
“And that is?” Martin had never heard of it before, but anything called Jansson’s Temptation had to be good.
“It’s basically a potato gratin, but with a different seasoning and with small pieces of anchovy.”
“Sound good, I love anchovy.”
“I know.” Emily frowned.
Martin always ordered anchovy on his pizza. Emily hated it, so she had to get a pizza of her own, every time they had take-out.
Before dinner was finished, Martin had had three more shots and had listened to three more incomprehensible songs. He was feeling sort of tipsy. For dessert they had a rice porridge with a thin strawberry sauce. Martin was a bit surprised when he found an almond in his porridge, but he figured it was supposed to be there, and swallowed it.
“OK, who’s got the almond?” Martha asked them.
“I did,” Martin said, “but I ate it. Did I do anything wrong?” He must have had a very empty expression.
Everyone started laughing at Martin except for Gary, who was just as bewildered. Emily was laughing so hard, tears were running down her cheeks.
“If you get the almond, you’re supposed to keep it hidden until after the meal,” Martha explained to him. “Then you’ll get a small gift. Here you are.” Martha handed a small package to Martin. He un-wrapped it and found a wooden flag post with a Swedish flag on it.
“Thanks,” he said. Emily leaned over and gave him a hug.
“Sorry I laughed at you. You looked so much like Lambert – the friendly lion, when you sat there, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Apology accepted. What happens next?”
“Now we are free to do whatever we want for an hour, before coffee. Ask Gary if he wants to shoot some pool. Grandpa has a pool table in the basement.”
Both Gary and Maria were interested in playing, so the four of them went downstairs.
“Emily, can I have a word with you?” Martin asked her on their way down.
“Sure, what’s up?”
Martin pulled her aside. He took her hands and went down on one knee. He opened the little box he had brought with him from D.C., exposing the ring.
“Emily. We have known each other for almost eight months and I have grown to love you more and more for each day that passes. Will you marry me?”
“Yes, oh yes!” Emily almost shouted her reply. She kissed and hugged him. Emily didn’t want to let go, but eventually she had to. This was the happiest day of her life. Martin placed the ring on her finger. It was truly a splendid looking ring.
“I’m so happy! I have to show it to my sister,” she said. Happy wasn’t nearly enough to describe what she was feeling, in that moment. She was almost ecstatic.
“Congratulations!” Maria said. “I’m so happy for you.”
“The same goes for me,” Gary added.
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(Guido’s, Washington D.C., 8:45pm)
“So you got engaged on Christmas Eve,” Monica said. “How romantic.”
“I thought so,” Martin said, with a smug look on his face. “Look, our new apartment is just around the corner. How about some coffee?”
“Sure,” Danny said, “lead the way.”
The four of them left the restaurant and walked three blocks in the brisk Washington air. They took the elevator up to the top floor, where Emily and Martin had their apartment.
(To be continued…)