Repeat after me. I love lutefisk. I love lutefisk. I love lutefisk.
Easy for you to say. You, too, will be chanting the Norwegian mantra after an afternoon food expedition to Ballard’s Olsen’s Scandinavian Foods.

This self-discovery of all things Scandinavian led me into a world unbeknown to me. I am Irish, after all. It is quite possible that my Viking ancestors indulged in the gelatinous gloop fed to them as they landed on the shores of Norway. Village women prepared this “special” meal made of reconstituted dried cod for the newcomers as a welcoming gesture of sorts. Lutefisk, which literally means, “cod soaked in plutonium” is actually soaked in lye. Yes, that’s right. Lye. Mmm… what a treat. All that aside, it is one delicacy I am saving for another time -- perhaps at next summer’s Annual Lutefisk Eating Contest.

Kevin Osterhout helps a customer chose from among an array of Scandinavian delicacies.

Photo: Helen Anne Gately

With all that lutefisk talk out of the way, we can proceed to delve deeper into the finer and tastier traditions of Scandinavian tradition.

Wedged unassumingly between a teriyaki restaurant and a jewelry shop, you are instantly transported to Scandinavia. The shop is eye candy for the newcomer. A spray of color greets you when you walk in. There are Swedish calendars, mini Swedish flags, Swedish baby-bibs that say “Uff Da!” on them and a plethora of magnets to adorn your refrigerator- “Just say yes to Lutefisk” and “I love Trolls.”

Each item is intriguing and causes explorers to pause and take notice. Without a doubt, the enormous deli case packed with Scandinavian meats and treats is the main attraction. However, pronouncing the names correctly can present a challenge. Items such as Speke Skinke-smoked ham, Mar Polse-dried lamb and pork sausage, Sylte-pork roll and Medisterdeig-meatball dough, do not roll of the tongue that easily. However, on the tongue they were surprisingly quite tasty.

A native Norwegian Einar Johnsen founded Olsen’s Scandinavian Foods in 1960. Back then it was called B.D.& D. As the Scandinavian community in Ballard grew so did his business. (The shop was originally located across the street from its present location on Market Street). Johnsen decided to move into a larger space across the street and changed the name to Johnsen’s Scandinavian Foods. In 1972, he sold the store to Reidar Olsen and retired back to his native home in Norway. Olsen kept the Johnsen name and produced the same high quality of Scandinavian food and imports for his customers. After twenty-years of keeping Scandinavian culture alive in the community, Reidar retired in 1992. His son Erik Olsen took over the business and changed the store name over to their family name. All together, The Olsen’s were a Ballard mainstay for over 25 years. In 1997, Erik sold the business to The Endresen Sisters Anita and Reidun from Sandeid, Norway. They had worked in the shop for over 15 years so it was a likely transition given their Norwegian gourmet know-how. They kept the Olsen’s shop name and to this day, the tradition continues.

Sometimes it takes a little extra Uff Da! to try new things. When it comes to pleasing those finicky taste buds, trying something out of the norm can be somewhat intimidating. This is when our inner Lewis and Clark child will emerge. I decided to channel into the adventurous side and explore the unfamiliar.

A man standing next to me in line ordered up some Fiske Kaker (aka: fish cakes). His choppy Norwegian accent was a dead giveaway that this was obviously a man in the know.

Initiating small talk, I asked, “What exactly is Fiske Kaker?” He simply described them as fish (cod) molded into little patties. He said, “They are my favorite.” The homespun recipe is a staple Olsen’s tradition made every Thursday by the sisters. The man and his wife travel from Bellevue especially to buy the cakes as well as two cases of Wasa hearty rye bread. The shop orders it especially for them. I had to ask. “What is so special about it?” The wife enthusiastically replied, “It tastes good and has lots of fiber, fiber, fiber!”

Running the shop on this lively Sunday afternoon were newlyweds Cristin and Kevin Osterhout. They are next in line to take over the business from Kevin’s mother Anita. Kevin confessed it is tough to keep it going. The business relies on loyal local customers as well as shipping to customers all over the world via their Web site. With the holiday season just around the corner, anticipation for a fruitful year is mounting. Cristin said, “It gets crazy busy. Holiday business will carry us through the rest of the year.” Customers are already lining up for their Christmas hams. Olsen’s specialty is that they smoke their own meats. They have a big smoker out back that has been doing the job for 45 years. As Kevin sliced up some Fare Polse-smoked mutton for a customer I asked him if he thought his mom might let me see it on my next visit.

With a coy smile he replied, “I doubt that’ll happen.” This family secret is kept well under wraps.

Kevin gave me a sample of Fare Polse.

“Mmmm, this mutton is pretty tasty.” I declared. “It’s got a real smoky flavor. I like it.”

Who knew such joys existed? I have been missing out for too long.

The man standing next in line piped up.

“When I was a kid, we spent every Christmas at my Aunt’s house where we had hot coco and open-faced sandwiches with Mulle Polse.”

His grandparents were Icelandic and moved to Ballard in 1905. He lives in Queen Anne and travels down to Ballard just so he can buy Mulle Polse and relive that flavorful childhood memory all over again.

As customers flitted in and out of the shop, one could sense that real community feel that is becoming increasingly rare these days. People appeared to be friendlier. Was it the unspoken bond and love of all things Scandinavian? Perhaps it was the gingersnap cookie samples that everyone seemed to like and comment to one another about.

“Mmm, those are good. Honey, you should try one?” said a husband to his wife while gobbling another snap.

I have to admit I have walked by the shop dozens of times over the years and have never stepped in. This little shop is what makes a community a community. It is the small-town, Main Street; U.S.A meets Denmark, Norway and Sweden via Market Street. I have been to Scandinavia and back in just under two hours.

Some people had specific items they came for while others browsed curiously, not buying anything at all. Yet all left with smiles on their faces for just having taken the time to look.