Not quite 36 hours in Paris.

One of the main reasons that G and I decided to live abroad was so that we could get our travel on. I mean, when you realize you can fly to Barcelona in the same time it would take to fly from Seattle to Chicago, living here is kind of a no-brainer. 

Taking advantage of our proximity to all things French, I went to Paris to visit my dad last weekend, who was on a school trip with his students. It was nice to be on a break from norskkurs and spend a little time with my dad in one of my favorite cities. This was my third visit to Paris, so I took a lot fewer photos than I usually do on my trips. I didn't take any gratuitous food photos or shots of the many street markets. Rather, I focused on spending some QT with my dad. (I probably accomplished this at the expense of his students at times, but I could hardly feel guilty since he's been teaching for 46 years and I think he's given them enough of his time over the years, thank you very much. But I digress.)

Anyway, another reason I didn't take so many photos is because I am heading back to Paris at the end of the week! G and I are meeting family there and spending a nice holiday together based in the Marais. So excited. I will do my best to take some food photos and see if I can't capture some more out of the ordinary images next week. That is, if I can peel myself away from eating. And sleeping. And drinking French wine. Until then, here are a few I took last weekend. À bientôt!

Sacré Cœur in Montmartre. I had never been there before. Yes, it's very touristy on the way up, but so beautiful to see at sunset.

More Sacré Cœur.

Little restaurant we ate at in Montmartre on Friday night.

Dad giving the kids Gothic Architecture 101 at Notre Dame.

Notre Dame from the back. I know everyone else photographs the front, but I prefer this view (plus at 9:00 in the morning, the sun pretty much ruins any shot of the front of the cathedral).

Where's the squash? And the Reece's..and the...

Thank you Darcey! (One of our care packages from home.)

Five months and dozens of trips to the grocery store later, I have come to the realization that some foods and food products are just not going to be found in Norway. I am trying to accept this, really. But in a country that probably imports 90% of its food and food product anyway, would it be so hard to throw a few butternut squashes on that container ship?

I know some of you out there are thinking tsk, tsk. Embrace your new culinary climate, already! And I am all for that. (Well, to a degree. I won't be trying the lutefisk any time soon.) I've made some cod and we've had our fair share of potatoes (they do grow potatoes here). But I like to make some of our favorite dishes from pre-Norway days as well. And it's hard to make Moroccan couscous without butternut squash, or pancake breakfast without Bisquick.

For you Norway-bound folks, I usually go to Meny and sometimes Centra, which seems to have a larger selection of ethnic foods. I've also been across town to Jacob's, a high-end specialty grocery. (For you Seattleites, I'd equate Jacob's to a small Larry's Market. Remember Larry's? Those were the days.) I have also visited many of the various 'Turkish markets' in Oslo (small ethnic shops that sell a lot of Asian, Turkish, and Greek groceries, less expensive and sometimes varied produce, as well as dried herbs, spices, couscous, and other items). 

 

One of the 'Turkish markets' I frequent near Youngstorget.

Despite all my scouring for grocery items, there are some things I just haven't been able to locate. So, in honor of all things found in my hometown grocery stores and farmers markets, I give you the List of Food Items Colleen Has Not Been Able to Find in Norway:

• Reece's peanut butter cups
• York peppermint patties
• Peeps
• Dark chocolate candy bars
• Kraft macaroni and cheese

• Butternut squash
• Heck, any kind of squash (there was a rare sighting of a sugar pumpkin in early November, but that was it)
• Chard
• Fresh sage (I've only found fresh rosemary, mint, basil, sage, cilantro, and citron. Everything else, you're out of luck)
• Large baking potatoes
• Dried cherries
• Dried currants
• Dried kaffir lime leaves

• Sunflower seeds
• Millet
• Wheat flour (Wait. What? Yes. Maybe I'm not looking hard enough.)
• Dried yeast (We have fresh yeast in little cubes. I question their freshness.)
• Bulk foods
• Brown rice (except Uncle Ben's in a bag you throw in boiling water)
• Cornbread mix
• Cornmeal
• Sourdough anything 
• Good pancake mix (they have a mix that really just makes thick crepes)
• Mini bagels

• Pam cooking spray
• Crisco (for my mom's excellent pie crust recipe)
• Real vanilla extract
• Most any extract
• Sesame oil
• Rice wine vinegar
• Black bean sauce
• Light coconut milk
• Sweetened shredded coconut

• Fresh clams!
• Canned clams
• Heck, just clams
• Fresh lump crab meat (except in cans. Yuck)
• Black cod (totally different than Norwegian cod)

• Light dairy products (except milk)
• Good energy bars 
• Graham crackers
• Cheerios
• Almond butter

• Pancetta
• Ground turkey
• Turkey in general (okay, there's some turkey, but it's not as easy to come by)
• Decent deli meat (read: I really don't want to eat square deli meat, but thanks for trying)
• Cut-up, bone-in chicken (there are rows and rows of very processed chicken breasts by one company, but nary a package of bone-in thighs to be found)

• Decaf coffee
• Decaf green tea
• Good herbal tea in tea bags

• Canned chicken or vegetable broth (they have it in tiny glass jars for exorbitant amounts of money, or in a boxed concentrate I have yet to figure out)
• Canned soup (powdered soup abounds, and after trying it a few times, I've pretty much sworn it off)

I've never missed Whole Foods and Central Market so much. A girl can dream, can't she?

Better Late Than Never: Ski VM

Can you tell I'm on a break from norskkurs? So far in the past week, I've blogged several times, balanced four months of three different bank accounts, baked batches of goodies, and watched the most recent Amazing Race episodes. And tomorrow I'm going to Paris for the weekend to see my dad. Apparently I don't do lazy.

And my point is...I'm catching up. What have I been doing for the past two months, if I haven't been blogging? Well, aside from studying and going out for random evenings of overly expensive pilsner and watching re-runs of The Office and taking cross country ski lessons, G and I went to the FIS Nordic World Ski Championships, known as Ski VM 'round these parts (VM = verden mesterskap = world (verden) championship (mesterskap)).

Ski VM lasted ten days and began with opening ceremonies in downtown Oslo in late February. In addition to the spectacular competition centered around Holmenkollen on the hills just northwest of downtown, the medal ceremonies and various exhibits and cultural events happened every day in the center of town. We debated over whether to go see a competition since we'd heard that it was sold out, and it was expensive to get any tickets that could be had. Then a friend of ours asked if we wanted to go and - poof - we had tickets to the men's big hill ski jump (menn storbakken).

The result: awesomeness. Talk about a party. You haven't been to a ski competition unless you've been to a ski competition in Norway. For Americans, I'd compare it to going to see the NBA Championships in Chicago in the 1990s with Michael Jordan. Cowbell? Check. The Wave? Check. Enough red, white, and blue (that's Norwegian red, white and blue to you, amerikanene!) to rival Boston Harbor on the 4th of July? Check.

Here are some images from our adventure. Heie Norge!

Opening ceremony in downtown Oslo.

G believes in getting to know art. Like these snow sculptures on Karl Johans gate downtown.

Coolness, huh?

No Ski VM art exhibit in Oslo would be complete without a replica, in snow, of Munch's work.

The train to Holmenkollen from Majorstuen. Sardines doesn't begin to describe it.

Finally through security.

Storbakken!

  How's that for scale? There is tiny little jumper, aiming for the K line (the red line).

Winners' podium: Austria took first, with Norway in second and Slovenia in third.

Snow sculpture at Holmenkollen.

 

 

 

Party party, with cowbell!

Cross-Country Skiing, Norwegian Style

It wasn't until we moved to Norway that I realized - hello - it's called Nordic skiing for a reason. As in, Norway (okay, and Sweden and Finland) is the birthplace of Nordic skiing. I swear Norwegians are born on skis. I have seen children I didn't think were old enough to walk wearing their little boots waiting patiently for the train while mom and/or dad hold their two foot long skis in one hand. Cute. And just a smidge intimidating. It seems pretty much everyone here skis. It's not unusual to see hoards of people on the weekends waiting at the metro platform, skis in hand, ready to go for a long "tur" of 10, 20, or sometimes 30 kilometers for the day. Quite a few people even go night skiing on weekdays after work on the extensive system of lighted, groomed cross country trails just a metro stop or two away from the city center. If every a city was built around winter sport, Oslo is it for sure.

Now, I don't know about you, but where I come from, cross country skiing is fairly mild. You might go up a little, down a little, and around some curves. A little. Here? Not so much. There is a lot of up and down, super narrow tracks, and what I like to call kamikaze corners. Those are areas where you're going downhill and around a tight corner, in a narrow clearing, usually not in any sort of track, and you can't see what's coming around the bend. I am sure that sounds fun to some of you. Not really to me. Don't get me wrong: I like skiing. I am a solid green/blue downhill skier, and I can generally get to the bottom of a slope with few problems. But take away my edges, my shaped skis, and any control afforded to me by my heel being attached to my ski and it's a whole different story.

The first time I went cross country skiing with a friend of mine here in January, I stopped counting how many times I fell at eight. Upon seeing the giant bruise on my knee after my adventure, my father in law asked me where my helmet was. Given the results of my first attempt at cross country skiing in over 20 years, G and I did what any responsible couple would do faced with such a daunting challenge to our sanity and safety: we signed up for cross country ski lessons.

The local ski club, Skiforeningen, offered English-speaking beginner lessons, so we enrolled in the class. We just had our last class this past weekend. The past five weeks have been fun but challenging. I highly recommend going through Skiforeningen for classes next year if you are in Oslo and want to learn to ski. They offer different types of classes, and our instructor was great. He was very patient and offered lots of good personal critique. Lots and lots.

How did it go? Pretty well, I think. In general, after about the first hour of class, I would feel comfortable on the narrow little toothpicks they call touring skis. Then we'd start practicing downhill and any comfort I had established in the first hour evaporated. Despite my aversion to downhill, we actually really enjoyed our class. G was a natural at the downhill after our first lesson, and we even went on a tur a couple of weeks ago with a friend of ours. I think if we had started skiing earlier in the season and did it more often, I would feel pretty comfortable on downhill by now. Maybe next year; hopefully we can ski more then. When in Norge, do as the nordmenn do, right?

These days, with the snow finally melting and spring starting to arrive, it's hard to think about skiing anymore. I am ready to fast forward to hiking season. Bring on the slush; I brought my gaiters, poles, and Yaktraks!

Here are some photos from our ski class experience. Enjoy.

G applying blue wax. Wax color is specific to temperature.

Me, debating whether to take my skis off and walk down the hill.

Practicing our form without poles.

G making it look easy.

Typical ski track (see how it drops off in the background?).

Picnicking in the snow, post-tur. This reminds me of climbing Rainier.

Something you don't see every day

Finally catching up on life during two-week break between my Norwegian classes. Hi. How are you? What's new? Remember me?

Here's something you don't see every day in the U S of A:

Okay, yes, a washing machine is not uncommon in a small but livable Oslo apartment. But two things about it:

1. This is a combination washer-dryer. As in, the same machine is both a washing machine and a dryer. I am sure this concept was born out of the 'smallness' of living spaces in Europe. A brilliant idea. Unless you're like me and have 800 loads of laundry to do at one time. And you live somewhere where the cost of electricity to run the dryer would empty you bank account faster than you could say vær så god. Lacking a dryer and infinite funds to spend on Norwegian electricity bills, we hang our clothes to dry instead.

2. Notice where this appliance is located? Anyone? That's right: the kitchen. Apartments here tend to only have locations for water hookups: one in the kitchen and one in the bathroom. And, I guess if you're bathroom's too small for a washer and/or dryer, where else would you put it but in the kitchen? I about dropped my beer when I saw this, until some other ex-pat at the party told me having the washing machine in the kitchen was fairly common. I guess it makes for efficient stain fighting. Just don't mix the ketchup bottle up with the fabric softener. 

I promise my next post will have less to do with household appliances and more to do with...something else.