That’s not a typo, but a Danish way of living
Embracing pure comfort goes right to the core of Danish culture, and now more North Americans are developing a taste for simple pleasures.
If all you know of Danish culture is in a blue tin with crispy little butter cookies inside, then you’re missing the most delicious thing about that country.
It’s possibly the secret behind what makes Denmark the “happiest country in the world,” a title it’s held for as long as the UN World Happiness Report began in 2012.
It’s this thing called hygge (whoguh) that non-Danes are suddenly discovering in Europe and North America, perhaps because of our collective anxiety over politics and wars, perhaps in reaction to electronic relationships.
Hygge is a really simple, maybe old-fashioned thing. It’s creating a warm, welcoming atmosphere and enjoying friends and family — not cool or hip or exciting, but that’s the point. It’s like a slow hug (and the English word is related to hygge) and not having to be “on.” Coffee and cake are often part of hygge. A fireplace or candles would be good, too.
It honours kinship and it’s part of Scandinavian culture and differs from North American socializing in that people don’t invite, call ahead or plan. Drop-ins are common and totally welcomed and enjoyed.
If that’s too alien a notion to comprehend, there have been books written on hygge, like Hygge: The Danish Art of Happiness and The Book of Hygge: The Danish Art of Contentment, Comfort and Connection. And recently, naturally, a cookbook to help things along: Fika and Hygge: Comforting Cakes and Bakes from Scandinavia with Love. “Fika” covers the Swedish and Finnish love of having coffee with a pastry or two with friends. It’s built into the day.
The cookbook is by Bronte Aurell who opened a “hygge café” in London. “It was born out of pure homesickness,” she says in the book. “It was a place where we could meet with family and friends to enjoy being together and hygge a bit, escaping from the hustle and bustle of day-to-day life.” Hygge, as you can see, is not just a noun, but a verb and an adjective as well.
Aurell’s café is called Scandikitchen, but it wasn’t the first name choice. “We wanted to name the café Hygge to show how important this concept is to us, but we thought it would be tricky to pronounce for some people. To cre- ate a welcoming space was always a priority for us, whether you are a homesick Nordic expat looking for a fix of salty licorice or anyone else just searching for a nice cup of coffee and a good piece of cake. Anyone can feel a sense of hygge, a state of content coziness with friends where nothing else seems to matter.”
For Burnaby resident Kate Praegel, who left Denmark 40 years ago, hygge is still part of her life. If friends are driving in my neighbourhood, they’ll stop in. They don’t have to be invited,” she says. And ditto for her. If she’s nearby a friend’s house, she’ll just knock and there will be coffee and cookies at the ready.
“You talk about your life and what you’re doing and when it’s time for them to go, I say, ‘It’s hyggelig.’ It’s nice they came by.” Sometimes, she’ll have her own baked goods. Sometimes, it’ll be those Danish cookies in a tin. “You can go to 7-11 and buy them,” she laughs.
Asked if she likes to have people over, unannounced, she answers, “Always! It’s why we’re called the happiest people on Earth,” she laughs, throatily. She says Norwegians, Swedes and Finns have the same culture of welcome and enjoying one another’s company.
Canadians have the same cold housebound winters, short of daylight and comfort. We’re nice. Now it’s a matter of baking a cake or some cookies, putting the coffee on and telling friends you want some hygging.
DANISH VANILLA COOKIES ( VANILJEKRANSE)
Makes: about 40 cookies Who hasn’t had a Danish butter cookie or 10 from the famous blue tin? They taste nothing like the homemade version says Bronte Aurell, who shares her recipe in Scandikitchen: Fika and Hygge.
1 whole vanilla bean 11/4 cups (310 mL) sugar 9 oz. (250 g) cold butter, cubed 2 1/2 cups (625 mL) all-purpose flour Pinch of salt 1 tsp (5 mL) baking powder 2/3 cup (160 mL) ground almonds 1 egg 1/4 cup (60 mL) finely chopped almonds
1. Prepare baking sheets, greased and lined with parchment. Grind the vanilla bean, including the skin, with 3 tbsps. (45 mL) of the sugar in a spice grinder or food processor. Sift out any big lumps and set aside.
2. In a stand mixer or food processor, combine the cold butter with the all-purpose flour, pinch of salt, baking powder and vanilla-sugar mixture. Mix with the paddle attachment or pulse briefly, until the mixture has a coarse, sandy texture.
3. Add the ground almonds and remaining granulated sugar and mix again, then add the egg and chopped almonds. Mix until you have an even dough that is soft enough to push through a pastry bag. You will need a strong fabric pastry bag for this with a larger nozzle as the dough is hard to push out. It may help to warm the dough with your hands until mouldable. Alternatively, you can roll these, but they will not have the pattern.
4. Pipe (or roll) the rough into 31/2 to 4 inch (8 to 10 cm)-long sausages. Carefully connect the two ends to form rings and place on the baking sheets. Make sure the dough is no thicker than the width of your little finger because these will spread during baking.
5. Chill the dough rings on the baking sheets in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes. This will help the biscuits keep their piped pattern as they bake. 6. Preheat the oven to 400 F. 7. Pop the cold tray into the oven and bake the biscuits for 8 to 10 minutes or until the edges are slightly tinged golden brown. Remove from the oven and allow to cool and harden before eating. Store in an airtight container as the biscuits can soften quickly.
SAFFRON BUNDT CAKE WITH PEARS
Makes: 10 servings This cake looks as sunny as the hygge disposition of the Danes, thanks to the addition of saffron.
1/4 cup (60 mL) breadcrumbs 31/2 tbsp (52 mL) butter 1/3 cup (80 mL) plus 1 tbsp (15 mL) whole milk 1/2 tsp (2 mL) ground saffron 2 large or 3 small pears Dash of lemon juice 1/2 cup (125 mL) plus 2 tbsps. (30 mL) granulated sugar 4 eggs 21/4 cups (560 mL) all-purpose flour 2 tsps. (10 mL) baking powder 1 tsp (5 mL) vanilla extract 1/2 tsp (2 mL) salt 1/4 cup (60 mL) Greek yogurt Icing sugar for dusting
1. Preheat the oven to 350 F. Grease the Bundt pan and dust with the breadcrumbs, tipping out the excess.
2. Melt the butter and add the milk and ground saffron. Stir to combine and set aside to infuse. Peel and core the pears and cut into bite-sized chunks. Add a dash of lemon juice, stir and set aside.
3. In a mixing bowl, beat the sugar and eggs until thick, light and fluffy using a balloon whisk or hand-held electric mixer. Mix the remaining dry ingredients together and sift into the egg mixture. Fold in until incorporated. Add the Greek yogurt and saffron-milk mixture and fold gently until completely combined. Pour the cake batter into the Bundt pan. Add the pieces of pear; they’ll sink down during baking.
4. Bake for around 30 to 35 minutes in the preheated oven or until a skewer inserted into the middle comes out clean. Cool in the pan before turning out onto a serving tray. Dust with icing sugar and serve, sliced with a good dollop of whipped cream.