Kringla quest prayer answered

By Debbie Irmen (Contact) | The Daily Journal

Published Friday, December 14, 2007

I remember my great-aunt Charlotte as a regal woman. She was my grandmother’s sister and the two couldn’t be more different: Aunt Charlotte was a businessman’s wife while my grandmother was a farmer’s wife. One appeared to have an easy life, the other a hard life, though both experienced the death of a son; Auntie was tall, my grandmother is about 4-foot-10-inches.

I didn’t really know this aunt, but I do know she made some mighty tasty kringla.

With her death, and faced with the prospect of never having kringla again, I decided I had to start making it for myself as the kids and I love cookies.

However, finding a recipe proved more difficult than I imagined. Of course, not knowing this great-aunt very well, I never asked her personally for the recipe and my grandma didn’t make this treat so she didn’t have it in her files either.

I looked through my collection of cookbooks thinking someone in one of the church cookbooks would have submitted the recipe, but no luck.

No problem, the Internet has everything right? I Googled “kringla,” I Googled “kringala,” all to no avail. There wasn’t one reference to either “kringla,” or “kringala.”

I turned to our ancestry, thinking that would help. I found no reference to kringla as a Norwegian or Swedish treat. I turned to the Germans and finally found a reference to “kringla.”

Excitedly, I looked through the recipes, and picked one I thought sounded like it contained the ingredients to make it taste like my Aunt Charlotte’s kringla.

I made two batches of the batter for good measure and following the instructions, set the bowl in the refrigerator to chill overnight.

The next night, my daughter and I set up our workspace and began to follow the instructions: With a tablespoon, take a golf ball size of batter and lightly coat in flour. Then roll into a 1/2-inch rope and shape, and bake ...

The problem came when I tried to roll the batter into a rope and shape in the traditional figure 8. It was a sticky batter, which the recipe instructions warned me about, but it didn’t say it would be difficult to lift the shaped rope onto the pan. The rope broke and stuck to my hands and so I added more flour — which when I finally got four kringla successfully shaped and on the pan, and baked — it made them tasteless. Well, actually, they tasted like flour and the texture was awful. The kringla I remember was soft and didn’t have a crunchy outer crust like the ones we made had.

After attempting to make about a dozen, which we baked, and sampled, I knew this recipe wouldn’t suffice.

In a quiet moment, I quickly asked God to provide my Aunt Charlotte’s recipe; and then wondered who might have her kringla instructions. I ran through potential suspects, but discarded them hastily for one reason or another.

I’ve said before that if we are open to moments of grace, they will come. Forgotten was my quick prayer, but apparently it was heard. While telling my mom about our attempt to make kringla as Auntie Charlotte had, she asked if I’d like the recipe. Like a train that takes a few miles to slow down, it took a moment for her words to register. I nearly shouted at her: You have Auntie Charlotte’s kringla recipe?

As I read through the recipe, I saw a couple of ingredients that were different from the recipe I had tried, but it was essentially the same. I copied it down and made the batter last night. A sample of the dough gave the promise they will be as tasty as I remember. Tonight we’ll attempt to shape them and bake them.

I just hope God’s hand works through mine as I make this favorite cookie, remembering my great-aunt all the while.

Debbie Irmen’s columns run Thursdays.