Glögg: The lovely wine with the unlovely name

When Grandpa Pete, then known as Rudolph Peterson, or just Pete, met the sparkling Marie on a steamer en route to Sweden, he was swept off his feet. Literally. In grappling for a ploy to attract her attention, a headstand sealed their fate. After a whirlwind romance they headed back to Illinois where Pete became an engineer and Marie held extravagant parties and acted in plays. They eventually sired two children, one of whom is my mother-in-law.

Sad to say I never met Grandpa Pete as he was long gone before I married into the family. His legacy primarily remains in his dedication to celebrating a traditional Swedish Jul. Well, traditional for this family anyway. The Swedish Jul we celebrate has undoubtedly morphed in many ways, but it always begins with the customary Jultide beverage, glögg, a lovely, sweet, heated drink that goes straight to the head and warms you head to toe. The glögg is just the prelude to an extended two to three day event.

Some of the whacky traditions include eating the lutefisk (dried cod preserved with lye, then soaked) with a plastic fork and paper plate so that the fine China and silver don't corrode from the toxic fish. A huge drama is made of how disgusting it tastes; a new family member is usually filmed as they take their first bite. Next we have an extensive smörgåsbord with all varieties of Swedish fare--some more delectable than others. The lingonberry sauce is a treat as well as the spicey hot mustard which accompanies the Julskinka, aka ham. The potatiskorv (white sausage) and Bruna bonor (beans) are not for me. Aversion to lutefisk goes without saying.

After dinner, poison cookies, and other assorted varieties are served by all the girls in the family wearing long gowns and balancing a wreath of candles in their hair as "Santa Lucia" is played on CD. "Poison cookies?" you interrupt to ask. Grandma Marie would make a huge vat of sugar cookies with  almond frosting. She'd tape a big sign on top that said "poison" so that her wayward children wouldn't find them and eat them. (As if!)

Later, the Jul Tomte arrives. He is played by a relative, usually in a red vest, a beard and some other inspired accouterment thought up by said relative that year. Somebody else plays the pig. Did I forget to mention the tomte rides in on a pig?   The pig's role is to eat and drink out of a dish which the laughing children fill and to attack any person who refuses to say "Thank you" in Swedish. They teasingly say "Thanks, Danke, Xiexie, etc." but the pig snarls until they say, "Tack tack" or "Tack så mycket."

Next we have rice pudding with whipped cream  and raspberry sauce. The matrons of the kitchen meddle and scheme to decide in which serving to hide an almond. Whoever gets the almond is predicted to encounter a significant event in the next year: a wedding, a pregnancy, a new job.  When the aging uncle refuses to marry they finally gave up on stashing the almond in his dish.
As we eat the pudding, we each write poems which must include the word "rice," then read them off and guess who wrote each. The youngest generation usually write a variation on the theme: Rice is nice when you eat it with mice.

I've met some native Swedes who are flabbergasted by our meals. They can't believe we still eat such a variety of Swedish dishes. Aunt Jean, of Scottish descent, and my father-in-law have only married into the clan, but both carry the weight of maintaining the gastronomical extravaganza, although the recipes probably have become slightly Americanized through the years. Fortunately the glögg recipe has  remained intact!

Most importantly, the recipe must be carried out to the letter, including counting the raisins. I have found that the counted raisins invariably almost equal a 15 ounce box of raisins, nonetheless, the counting must be done! The serving pot which sits over a flame is also essential, along with  ladle and tiny cups. Make sure at least one almond and raisin appear in every serving. Recipe written straight from Grandpa Pete's hand. He was an engineer and detail was paramount. (Italics my own.)

Swedish Glögg

This recipe is about 48 oz. (about 12 servings) Whose servings were these? You can see the cups are quite small. I love the "put" at the beginning of each instruction, also the odd amount of ounces (14 ounces of water??)

1. Put
   12 cloves
   2 cinnamon sticks
   6 cardamom seeds
   
   into a flow-thru bag and put this into 14 oz. of water. Boil for 10 minutes.
   
2. Put
   30 almonds
   70 raisins
   2 teaspoons of sugar
   
   into 24 oz. of port wine and heat this (this should not be boiled or even be near boiling -- the alcohol would vaporize) (God forbid.)
   
   
3. Mix
   8 oz. of brandy
   4 oz. of whisky
   
   together. This is separate from 1. and 2. (This could be 8 oz. whisky and 4 oz. brandy) (Is he offering alternative or admitting uncertainty?)

Now pour the 14 oz. of water (from no. 1) into the port wine (no. 2) and then add the mixture of brandy and whisky (no. 3).

SERVE IMMEDIATELY: KEEP THIS WARM WITH A FLAME

Courtesy of J.E. Peterson

Best when server wears a red vest.