So again, I am using a decimal system, because this subject may seem small, but actually it touches on two essentially Danish characteristics - precision in all things and a high value placed on thrift - so it will probably come up again.
I learned about the seriousness accorded (by Danes) to cutting food properly about 15 years ago, as part of the preparations for a family party. A group of the women were prepping in the kitchen of the town
Forsamlingshuset ( most towns in DK have a communal gathering house with a full kitchen, tables, chairs, etc. for big parties), and a well-meaning cousin asked me to cut the tomatoes as
pynt for the
smorrebrod (decoration and things to set on top of open sandwiches). I started working away and she quickly stopped me - aghast that I was cutting the tomatoes into slices instead of wedges, or boats! She then very patiently (and I thought a bit smugly) demonstrated the proper way to cut, and display, the boats on a platter.
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Tomato boats |
Now I can appreciate a traditional presentation, but as an American, I am used to a certain relaxed standard when it comes to cutting vegetables. In addition to slices and boats, I have even diced the occasional tomato for a salad or for
pynt. And I kinda thought that a slice of tomato would sit nice and flat on an open sandwich. But over here, it just doesn't work that way. And there is a certain method to this seemingly ridiculous orthodoxy.
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Smorrebrod med pynt |
Danish tomatoes are smaller than American tomatoes - especially New Jersey beefsteak tomatoes - and are rarely larger than a baseball. This size doesn't get you a lot of slices, and then the top and bottom are wasted, too. But with boats, you just need to trim off the little green bud at the top and the rest cuts up perfectly. Precision,
and thrift. The Swedes have a word that sounds like
largum (but I don;t know how to spell it) and it accords to this very concept -
just right. Not too much, not too little, nice to look at, works perfectly.
Now that we are here full-time, the tomato boat issue is cropping up everywhere - with cheese, and certain standard types of bread and rolls.
The delicious, kinda smelly, semi-soft cheese we love to eat here can only by cut with the wire-type of cheese slicer. But first you have to cut away a small amount of the wax around the sides, but not too much, because you need the wax to keep your fingers off the stinky cheese. Then the slice has to be thin and flat - no gulleys in the middle! - across or you will be accused of "holing" the cheese, or
udhuler. This is actually the word for not cutting the cheese properly.
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Smelly cheese with the beginnings of udhule on the left |
And
rygbrod, the dense rye and grain bread that is a staple for both breakfast and open sandwiches, must also be absolutely thin and flat - no artsy slants! - or your Danish husband may ridicule you. I always thought the bread slicing machine on my mother-in-law's counter took up an absurd amount of space for its limited function. But clearly, she couldn't take the pressure of bread-slicing perfection.
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Rygbrod with one good slice and one corrective slice |
Lastly, I will mention how to properly slice
rundstykker, the roundish rolls that many Danes eat for breakfast or with morning coffee. You need to use a good long serrated knife, and saw it evenly, or a little ball of doughy bread will appear in the middle of your roll. The practice is in fact, nor dissimilar to the way I have seen older Jewish people in the US cut their bagels. They hold it in their hand and saw through it carefully, and you are sure they will cut themselves, but it always comes out perfect.
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How to slice rundstykker demo |
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Ready-to-eat rundstykker with cheese and jam |
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