Last Wednesday, Klaus and Knut packed a thermos of coffee and went out on the fjord fishing. They were away for a good while, and when they came back the plastic crate was filled to the brim. In addition to lots of fine cod, the catch included a bunch of hyse (haddock), two brosme (which, in English, is called torsk!) and an uer (redfish). In other words:
Time for fishcakes! After deepfreezing the best filets, Klaus, Father Chris and I processed five kilos of fish meat. We divided the mince into two bowls and added different ingredients: In one we put garlic, chili, dill and parsley, in the other red bell pepper, onions, chives and tarragon. Then, we set up the big takke (frying pan) on the terrace and fried what felt like a trillion fish cakes! Apart from the ones we've feasted on over the weekend, they're now in our freezer in the shape of ready-made dinners for tired winter evenings. Eat your heart out, Findus.
Last Wednesday, Klaus and Knut packed a thermos of coffee and went out on the fjord fishing. They were away for a good while, and when they came back the plastic crate was filled to the brim. In addition to lots of fine cod, the catch included a bunch of hyse (haddock), two brosme (which, in English, is called torsk!) and an uer (redfish). In other words: 
Time for fishcakes! After deepfreezing the best filets, Klaus, Father Chris and I processed five kilos of fish meat. We divided the mince into two bowls and added different ingredients: In one we put garlic, chili, dill and parsley, in the other red bell pepper, onions, chives and tarragon. Then, we set up the big takke (frying pan) on the terrace and fried what felt like a trillion fish cakes! Apart from the ones we've feasted on over the weekend, they're now in our freezer in the shape of ready-made dinners for tired winter evenings. Eat your heart out, Findus.
