Eating lutefisk – from Lake Oahe?

The holiday season is approaching and our thoughts naturally turn to lutefisk. This culinary delight is traditionally made with codfish from the North  Atlantic Ocean, but our Missouri River reservoirs also harbor a codfish. This fact  is one small piece of the fascinating story of lutefisk – glad you asked!  

The North Atlantic cod, scientific name Gadus morhua, is legendary. There  is even a book about them. It is titled "Cod" (1997, Penguin Books). The author  says "Wars have been fought over it, revolutions have been spurred by it, national  diets have been based on it, economics have depended on it, and the settlement of  North America was driven by it." And indeed, the first lutefisk was made from Gadus morhua.  

However, another cod species is caught with Gadus in nets dragged through  the frigid bottom waters of the North Atlantic. It is called the Ling (Molva molva),  and is also a bottom-dwelling predator that can reach 6-feet-long and 100 pounds.  Its flesh has qualities (white, turgid) that American lutefisk lovers prefer. A  prominent supplier of lutefisk in the USA advertises "Made from genuine Norwegian Ling cod from the beautiful small towns along the Northern Atlantic Coast ... our lutefisk is time-honored, nutritious and ecologically sustainable." 

South Dakota's codfish is called burbot. Fishery students have an easy time  with its scientific name Lota lota (from French meaning codfish). It is in the same  taxonomic order as the North Atlantic cods. Burbot are members of the Missouri  River fish community. They have the same unusual features of the Atlantic cod;  the single chin whisker and an eel-like appearance. Burbot are most active in  winter, so Lake Oahe ice anglers catch a few fish, which can be 12-16 pounds.  Unlike most fish, burbot are most active in cold water. They spawn just under the  ice, then move to the deepest, coldest, bottom waters in summer. 

Some anglers think burbot are an undesirable predator that eats perch and  walleye; some think it is a desirable predator when stocked in lakes to eat over-abundant non-game fish. 

Most anglers value burbot for their table quality, even if  they don't become lutefisk. Their white, flaky meat has a sweet, mild flavor and  firm texture. They become "poor-man's lobster" when boiled in sugar water and  served with drawn butter. 

Transforming ocean-caught Ling to lutefisk starts with drying for storage,  later moving the dried fish through a freshwater bath to rehydrate, then to an alkali bath to dissolve muscle proteins to just the right tenderness, then to another  freshwater bath to wash out most of the lye, and finally to a pot of boiling water on  a kitchen stove before the finished product is ladled onto a dinner plate.  

The lutefisk legend is a thousand-year-old fable that will help you remember  the process. It goes like this: Plundering Vikings burned Scandinavian fishing  villages including the big, outdoor, wooden racks where cod hung to dry. The fish  fell to the ground and were buried in ashes that became lye slush from melting  snow and rain. Hungry villagers poking through the puddles were stunned to find  that the dried fish had changed back to fresh fish. They rinse the fish and boiled it,  tasted it – it'll do!  

In more modern times, lutefisk cooks started with dried fish and did the  soaking themselves, but today fish companies do the soaking process and market a  "kettle-ready" product. A lutefisk distributor in Minnesota writes: "the climatic  conditions in northern Norway are perfect for catching and drying our fish, which  are cleaned, filleted and dried in sanitary drying rooms always hand graded and  hand packed at just the right time. This is a form of art versus a form of science."  

Because of the strong opinions about lutefisk, I will gently describe it in  terms of its two most infamous characteristics – smell and appearance. Yes,  improper cooking can release odors that some find offensive. On the plate, lutefisk  has a soft, gelatinous consistency, and a mild flavor. It is usually paired with  savory sides such as boiled potatoes, melted butter, and Swedish meatballs for the  lutfisk rejectionists.  

If you Google South Dakota lutefisk events, the first to pop up is Lake  Campbell Lutheran Church. One commentator wrote: "There's a big one at the Lake Campbell Lutheran church-need a reservation and everything." Yes indeed,  you need a reservation for one of the three seatings this Saturday, November 14. I am attending – AGAIN. Thirty bucks for all-you-can eat. At last year's event, I  was enjoying the Swedish meatballs while neighbor Ron Eggen requested a second  helping of lutefisk, then a third, then a fourth! Be prepared to wait in the church  sanctuary for your reservation time. You will be entertained by Lena and Ole  jokes (I'm not making this up!) 

There won't be any lutefisk jokes before supper. Jokes are a touchy subject with the lutefisk crowd because the jokes are almost always disparaging. For  example, "When Sven's son acted up at the lutefisk supper table, he was sent to his  room with dinner."

There are lutefisk bumper stickers "Lutefisk lovers do it with melted butter,"  and also lutefisk poetry, which is just a little more forgiving than the jokes. For  example: 

The smell of soaking lutefisk 

As it wafts across the fjord 

Can ruin TV reception and  

Pop knotholes from a board. 

In 1985 when I begin teaching fishery science at SDSU, someone gave me  an official looking job application that I could give to students if they wanted to be  a lutefisk inspector. The form had 12 questions, including "If you are claiming  preference points for actually consuming lutefisk, give date and hospital where  treated." 

I didn't use the job application in class but I did feed the students codfish  caviar during the lecture on fish gonads. Codfish eggs are about the size of a pin  head. 

Then we tasted cod liver oil before considering the muscle. Edible fish muscle is about 60 percent of a fish's body weight, so we learned the anatomy and chemistry of fish muscle proteins in the live fish, and the muscle protein  transformation in the lye bath to become lutefisk – or Norwegian Jell-O. Then I  got THAT question – "Is this going to be on the test?"