There are so many reasons to celebrate. Daily ones in fact. From the sweetest smiles to the dearest conversations to the sun’s rays dancing across the trees. It would be unfitting to overlook the simple delights that each day brings and which call for even the smallest hint of celebration.
That’s what bløtkake is all about. It’s a celebration cake. The quintessential Norwegian party cake, because it always makes an appearance. From the light and fluffy sponge to the delightfully tangy and sweet berries. It’s essentially a layer cake with cream, and sometimes custard, sandwiched between vanilla sponge. It can be topped with cream and fruit or enclosed with marzipan. It’s one of those cakes where anything goes. You pick the fruit, the fillings and the toppings, just keep the sponge and cream.
Layer cakes say a lot about celebrations because, just like the cake, a reason to celebrate is usually a build up of many things that culminate into an integrated and splendid outcome.
As September arrives in Norway so does the annual round up of the sheep from the mountain pastures to return them to their respective farms. Days of carefully planned and established methods see flocks move across the terrain guided by people and shepherd dogs alike. This is a special time. Days are set aside, bags are packed and groups of people take on this task together – moving and guiding the sheep, sleeping (sometimes bundled in sleeping bags in one-room cabins) and sharing communal meals. If the weather is favorable, the experience is said to be one of the most beautiful and remarkable excursions one can have in nature.
My visit to 
Following a magnificent 
The winding road takes us through lush woodland to a mountain lake and up to an open landscape where the blue sky contrasts with the green vegetation and craggy mountains. The clanking of bells echo in the stillness as our first greeting comes from a flock of wooly sheep. They scamper toward us, friendly and energetic. Happy to receive our hands stroking their smooth faces. We climb over a fence and take a moment to let it all sink in. A small and idyllic cottage faces the morning sun and is surrounded by small, wooden buildings. Metal milk cans decorate the walls and summer blossoms add a pop of color against the green and brown backdrop.
There’s no internet access. No distractions. Nothing to take you away from the majesty and quietness of the landscape expect for a small radio, a good book and a thoughtful conversation. This is a place which blends itself into the nature. Learns from it, protects it, nurtures it and hails it. It is here I find myself today. A seter. A Norwegian seter. Slettastølen Seter, to be exact. 
Some days need a little nostalgia to brighten up the table and connect us to another time and place. Or perhaps we just need days to remind us that the table is an evolutionary setting, changing and ever expanding. Sometimes dishes get forgotten or dismissed. Sometimes they remain. I suppose the outcome of any dish is left up to the one in the kitchen.