This summer has been filled with celebrations and wonderful gatherings. My parents celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary, my husband and sister both turned 35, I had a birthday, my husband’s parents had birthdays, and my niece turned a whopping 3 years old. Best of all, my niece celebrated her birthday here in Norway with us. And on top of all the gaiety from the local festivals and visits from friends and family, including trips around western and southern Norway, North Wild Kitchen became a finalist in the Saveur magazine Blog Awards 2016 for Best New Voice. And my recipe for rommegrøt ice cream was named This Year’s Hit by Tine rømme-partner. It’s been quite a summer, to say the least.
And while I had planned on posting this recipe this week anyway, it seems more pertinent now following so many celebratory moments. But then again, that’s what this recipe is all about. It’s jovial.
My mother-in-law, Kari, makes one of the best cheesecakes (ostekaker) around. It’s her most requested dessert, and I, of course, was incredibly pleased when she shared with me the recipe on one of her latest visits so I could share it with you. It’s a fluffy and light variation on what can be quite a heavy dessert. Her recipe has a subtle touch of lemon and the base has a buttery, sweet and salty taste that literally melts in the mouth. It’s a variation that I have never come across before, being more accustomed to the American style of cheesecake. Yet, this is the genius of a recipe when it spans across countries and cultures and time. The ingredients are tweaked. The taste becomes accustomed. And the style is in the eye of the beholder. Variation. The spice of life. And what a sweet spice this is.
Sankthans, or Midsummer, is a celebration of both folklore and Christianity in Norway and across Scandinavia. An old tradition of celebrating the summer solstice which then blended into a newer tradition of commemorating the birth of John the Baptist. While in Norway the name still reflects the Christian view of the day (St Hans), it is the non-Christian elements, such as the midsummer bonfire, which has held fast over the years. And while less and less Norwegians celebrate this day, it still is seen as a welcome to the arrival of summer.
My second visit to 
It’s 9.00am when I pass through the open doors of the old barn, overlooking a valley carving its way through the mountainous terrain of Uvdal, Norway. The sun peaks through the grey clouds which have left morning dew on the yellow flowers popping around the well-worn farm. There is a cool breeze, which is welcome in the Uvdalsleiven kitchen, where the takke (griddle) reigns as it exerts its heat in every corner of the room. It’s temperamental. The colder it is inside, the higher its temperature must be. The hotter it is, the lower its temperature. And so it is with the takke, the surroundings effecting it in a way that only an experienced baker can instinctively master. Like a barista, the baker must constantly be in control and make adjusts to produce a quality product. And here at Uvdalsleiven, you can immediately see the symbiotic relationship which creates so much harmony in the kitchen. 
Nearby an old rock wall, sturdy but aged and covered with greenery, lies a handful of rhubarb plants. I like to imagine these were purposefully planted so many years ago on our farm when the original house stood on the very hill which those old stones continue to hold up. A house garden, perhaps, providing the old house with a wonderful supply of this springtime favorite. I discovered them intermixed with an overgrowth of nettles and ferns last year when we first moved to the farm. And while preparing the area this spring, I discovered the rhubarb plants were many and even found a couple of berry bushes nestled in front of the stones as well.
