Lutefisk: The fish that unites a community

About 24 hours before the annual lutefisk meal at First Lutheran Church in Blooming Prairie last weekend, the church nearly hummed with activity.

The kitchen and dining room were full of people, “and you’re only seeing this part,” said Ruth Earl.

“There’s potatoes going on back there, and then they’re wrapping fish – that’s going on back there,” she said, pointing down hallways. “And then we have corn people and … well, this week, they’ve made rosettes, and the week before, they made krumkake.”

Earl paused for a breath.

“There’s been people in and out. A lot.”

The volunteers spanned at least three generations, most of them church members – but not all.

Earl is the coordinator of the event, which, she said almost bashfully, “has been called the Cadillac of lutefisk dinners.”

No small feat in an area rich in Norwegian heritage, though plenty of other heritages appreciate the traditional meal, as well.

Earl handles it all with Marilyn Blume, whom she said is “my right hand and my left hand and everything.”

The night before, Earl said, she had called Blume “almost in tears, because things were falling apart in my lap. And she thought a little bit, and gave me a suggestion – and it worked. It worked very well.”

“And she didn’t even tell you about how many times we have had dreams” about the meals, from the planning to the execution, Blume said.

“Oh, yeah,” Earl said. “You wake up in the middle of the night and you get out of bed, write it down, and go back to bed. I did it last night.”

The first dinner recorded was in 1934, but it sometimes skipped a year or two. At the time, it was just dinner as usual: lutefisk, fried chicken, rutabagas and carrots, dressing and pie.

Blume found records that said in 1937, the men butchered 85 chickens; the church women baked 80 pies. The history didn’t specify, but Blume guessed they would have been apple, since it was a fall meal.

In November of 1948, church members decided to have a dinner every year, Earl said. “I thought they took a break before COVID, but according to the book, no.”

The pandemic forced a two-year break, as it did most things. When the church group reconvened, a major decision was made: Instead of three lunch seatings and three dinner seatings, the evening meals were eliminated.

“By that time, even me – and I was younger at the time – I was pooped,” Earl said.

There haven’t been many other changes or shortcuts, except one: Lefse is no longer homemade, Earl said, in part to keep the peace.

The lefse makers – good Norwegians, all – had specific recipes and methods and preferred thicknesses.

“The ladies were arguing, and so they just said, OK, that’s enough. We’ll just buy it,” Earl said.

The quantities of food ordered for last weekend’s meal remained unchanged from 2024, and prices didn’t fluctuate too much – though community donations helped reduce costs.

Thrivent Financial donated $250, which was applied to the cost of 150 pounds of meat for the Swedish meatballs.

Kwik Trip in Owatonna kept the tradition of donating $200 worth of butter, “and we’ve made a cranberry connection, so we got our cranberries free again this year,” Earl said.

The milk was donated by the BP Dairy Queen, the oil used to fry the rosettes was donated by the Pizza Cellar and the LP tanks used to cook the potatoes were also donated.

“It’s all important,” Earl said, “because after we pay the bills, all the proceeds go to local organizations, regional organizations and worldwide organizations. Last year when we sat down, we wanted to do a little bit more local, so we did.”

The local fire department and ambulance service received money, as did the BP Youth Club. In the past, proceeds have also gone to the local Quilts of Valor program and the cancer fundraiser.

“It doesn’t stay in this church; it doesn’t run this church,” she said, agreeing that it is a fundraiser by the church, but not for the church.

Many of the 100 volunteers have spent years, if not decades, helping at the event.

“We washed the lutefisk platters and meatball bowls – and the two ladles, and that’s all we washed,” said Susie Thorson of her first year. “And we did that for two hours, then someone came in to give us a break and they did it for two hours.”

She has also rolled meatballs, filled bowls with mashed potatoes for a steady stream of servers, and for years has made rosettes and krumkakes.

Vivian and Harold Ulrich moved to Blooming Prairie in 1962, and though they didn’t start helping immediately, estimate they’ve been at it for about 60 years, even after Vivian moved to Prairie Manor.

“I’m 91, so … what the heck? I don’t know,” she said as she and Thorson folded napkins. Top of mind for her that day was the $3,000 worth of lutefisk that would spend the night in a walk-in cooler at their home – but laughed at the idea of an armed guard.

As for Earl, she said by Saturday evening, the church would be clean, dishes washed and put away, so worship could be held as usual Sunday morning – and she’d have her feet up.

And a stomach full of lutefisk?

“I don’t like lutefisk,” she said. “I’m German.”

Lutheran Lutefisk by the Numbers

1934: First recorded meal

50: Cents, price of the 1937 meal

2,500: Meals served in 1988

600: Tickets sold for lunch seatings

100: Tickets for workers

100: Tickets for takeout

825: Pounds of lutefisk from Olson Fish

150: Pounds of meat from Hayward Meats

450: Pounds of potatoes from Souba

750: Rounds of lefse from Norseland Lefse

36: Large cans of corn from Lakeside Foods (donated)

150: Pounds of butter from Kwik Trip (donated)

30: Pounds of cranberries from Ocean Spray

1,200: Homemade rosettes

1,010: Homemade krumkake

100+: Volunteers

1: Server per table

10: Seats per table