Taking the lutefisk plunge with help from the Vegas Viking Lodge

My first time was Thursday. The thought of it made me apprehensive, even fearful. Would it be repulsive? Maybe revolting?

Its unsavory reputation reinforced my dread. My mom advised against it, saying I wouldn’t like it.

But three people went out of their way to entice me.

In the end, my walk on the culinary wild side was fun. It wasn’t all that outré … eating my first lutefisk.

I would say that lutefisk, the white fish known as lye fish that Norwegians either love or loathe, is an acquired taste. (My stiff Aquavit, or two, made it easier to acquire.)

For those of you willing to try anything once, sampling lutefisk should be on your list, and the perfect opportunity is drawing near. The Vegas Viking Lodge of the Sons of Norway has its annual Lutefisk Dinner on Jan. 29.

Erik Pappa, who is half Norwegian on his mother’s side, is president of the lodge and persistent in his efforts to introduce me to the joys of lutefisk, even going so far as to arrange a private lutefisk dinner for me this week. Yet the spokesman for Clark County admitted it took him five years of trying before he learned to like lutefisk.

The dinner was prepared and explained by Bob Sturgeon, who became a lutefisk chef when he was in the Navy, and Lollo Sievert, who was born and raised in Norway. Both are stalwarts of the Vegas Viking Lodge, now in its 20th year.

Bob, Lollo and Erik made the lutefisk dinner fun, educational and, yes, even palatable — courtesy of a few enhancements, such as melted butter, bacon and a touch of hot bacon grease. The dinner was at Erik’s home, where his 4-year-old daughter, Katherine, bedecked in fairy wings, provided the entertainment, while his wife, Colleen, assured me the terrible things said about lutefisk are merely hype. (I noticed she did not eat any.)

Lutefisk suffers from image problems. Garrison Keillor described it as reminiscent of “the world’s largest chunk of phlegm.” He said it looks like gelatin, tastes like soap and has a smell to gag a goat.

It did look like gelatin, both before and after it was baked. But there was no bad smell or soapy taste. Really, there wasn’t much of a taste at all, before the “enhancements.”

Bob showed me a dried lutefisk that had been in his garage for a year and could last another 10. It didn’t look too appealing, and I was glad that piece was for demonstration only. The reconstituted lutefisk we ate looked unobjectionable, even knowing lye, which any mystery novel fan can tell you is a most propitious powder for disposing of one’s misadventures, was part of the process.

“We never have any leftover lutefisk from the dinner,” said Bob, a retired construction worker who developed a fondness when he visited Oslo when he was in the Navy.

Lollo said her dad had to have lutefisk once a year around Christmas. For many, she said, eating lutefisk is an affirmation of the toughness of the Viking people, how they cured the summer catch to eat through the harsh winters.

She manages the lodge’s website at www.vegasviking.com and explained the rest of the traditional meal and annual dinner would be peas and carrots, boiled potatoes, lefse and the lutefisk alternative — surkal with roasted pork, plus Norwegian baked goods for dessert.

If you want to attend the Jan. 29 dinner at the Boulder City Elks Lodge, tickets are $18 for adults, $5 for children 10 and under. The deadline to order tickets is Jan. 20. For further information call 869-5775.

The Norwegians are also fond of rakfisk, which is salted and fermented for two or three months and eaten without cooking. Think I’ll remain rakfisk celibate for a while.

Jane Ann Morrison’s column appears Monday, Thursday and Saturday. E-mail her at Jane@reviewjournal.com or call (702) 383-0275. She also blogs at lvrj.com/blogs/morrison.