A smoldering heat enveloped me as I gazed out from the brygge (docks) toward the sea; one hand shading my eyes from the sun’s bright rays. The blue waters appeared never ending – with small,  rocky, and only somewhat-barren islands jetting out as the seagulls danced around the them. The breeze gave only the slightest sense of relief from this year’s endless heat wave, but the beauty and tranquility of the landscape alone was enough to take my mind off of it.

I’ve visited parts of Norway’s western coastline before, but this year I ventured south toward Kristiansand to Søgne. The southern coastline, which includes the Skaggerak strait, bears the name sørlandet (the south, or directly translated “the south land”)  – I suppose, in part, summarizing the collective area in a way that describes each village, each brygge, each island. Collective lifestyles, like quick morning swims in the sea despite what the temperature gauge might read and knowing the waters so well that navigation relies on the local knowledge and not signs. It’s Norway’s riveria – a coastline dotted with colorful wooden houses that have been a summer destination for Norwegians and tourists alike.

I wasn’t exploring the entire coastline this summer, only staying on one little jutting edge of if it. A summer house nestled in the rocks with a view of of endless waters and blue skies: a summer haven.

The waters are teeming full of life throughout the year and July is nothing short of a good time to take the boat out a little way from the bay and cast a line in the summer weather. The waters can be so giving that fishermen can have their meals taken care of daily – with a good range of fish and seafood – and that’s exactly what we experienced as feasted on cod, salmon, and mackerel.

One of the most prominent fish you’ll find along the southern coast in the summer is mackerel. Mackerel is almost guaranteed. So much so that after a catch of 20 or 30, the next fishing trips might as well return with anything but. Mackerel range is size and make for perfect filets that can be hot-smoked for a quick lunch on the rocks, while the bigger fish (say, cod) can be saved for the evening.

Another leisure activity filling each day was crab fishing from the dock. Simple, yet nostalgic and exciting. An activity resting on patience and stillness – keeping kids and adults alike entertained for hours.

A string with a simple bait tied to one end is tossed into the shallow waters and the other end of the string is tied to the dock. The waiting begins until the crab (usually a small crab) tightens its grip on its perceived meal. The anticipation and excitement swell as soon as the string is pulled gently from the water in the hopes the crab retains its grip and doesn’t let go. Sometimes the crab outwits everyone and will let go having a mouthful of delicious bait. More commonly, laughter and elated shouts resound with success and the crab is placed in a large bucket full of cold seawater and seaweed to provide them sanctuary throughout the day until they are released.

The end of the day finishes with a crab race of the day’s catch. Placed on the dock and cheered to victory, the crabs dive back into the embrace of the sea and find shelter once more on the sea bed.

There’s something incredibly romantic when you spend time near the sea in the summer. The smell of sea, the sounds of the waves and the birds, the feeling of cool water embracing the skin and of wood planks and rocks underneath bare feet. Days not only are longer but feel longer too, particularly this summer when the temperatures were high and the heat of the sun beat down.

When the sun would begin to set, creating a horizon of pink, yellow and orange, the table became a ceremony of sharing the local catch and the day’s moments. One of my favorite fish dishes that we shared was poached salmon steaks cooked in sea water and served with a simple cucumber salad and boiled potatoes.

To make the salmon, our host took a large pot and bent beside the dock as he filled it with seawater. After the water was simmering and the temperature brought down, the large steaks were added and left to cook for only a couple of minutes. The drinks were poured, the candles lit and the steaks served. The pink flesh easily flaked off as my fork pierced it and the taste was exceptional. It was perfectly seasoned from the seawater and the taste was so fresh – something that comes when using quality ingredients sourced locally.

This sørlandet trip was short and incredibly sweet. Our hosts were beyond generous in sharing their time, home, and experiences. The trip capped off with a romantic storm in the evening (one that was well-needed) and even more fish, drinks, and good conversations. Sørlandet is truly a Norwegian gem with nature that welcomes you in.

You can easily bring the sea to your home with this delightful and simple recipe for the seawater-poached salmon steaks. Seawater has a salinity level of 3.5% per thousand, so if you can’t access seawater feel free to use tap water and add in the correct amounts of regular salt.

Seawater-Poached Salmon Steaks

Serves 4-6

• 1 large salmon (or 8 salmon steaks)
• 4 quarts (4 litres)  seawater (or water with 35 grams of salt added per quart/litre)

To serve:

• Cucumber salad
• Small, boiled potatoes
• Melted butter with fresh parsley
• Sour cream (optional)

Prepare the salmon by gutting and cleaning it, removing the head and tail. Cut into 1-inch (2 ½ cm ) steaks.

Fill a large pot with the seawater or salted water and bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. Lower the heat. Gently add the salmon steaks and let cook for 8 to 10 minutes, or until the flesh easily flakes apart.

Remove from the heat. With a slotted spoon, remove the steaks and serve immediately. The bones and skin will need to be removed by each person.

Serve with a freshly made cucumber salad, boiled potatoes, melted butter with fresh parsley tossed in and sour cream, if desired.

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The drive up the mountains is filled with autumn’s vibrant colors juxtaposed against a brilliant blue sky. My window is down, just slightly though as the temperatures are cooling. I often find myself taking in deep breathes; savoring the moments as much as possible and feeling the sensation of the wind and the warmth of the sun against my cheeks. It’s reassuring to know these moments will carry throughout the entire day, for today I am joining a hunting team in search of grouse, or rype in Norwegian. And the lush, open wilderness will be our surroundings.

I find myself edging closer to my destination: an unobtrusive cabin settled into the native landscape. When I arrive, I am greeted by the graceful and ever-stunning Sirikit and her pack of delightful and enthusiastic pointer dogs. In the doorframe hangs an earlier catch, it’s elegant poise catching my eye.

As I enter the cozy cabin, I am greeted by Lars, Sirikit’s partner in life and in the hunt.  A tea towel is hanging across his shoulder as he makes his way from the kitchen. A delightful and earthy aroma permeates through the room and he announces that dinner tonight will be his version of rypebryst i saus, grouse breasts with a creamy sauce. I’m only more than happy to oblige in an invitation to dinner after our hunt.

Lars takes down the earlier catch from the doorframe to account for one more person (me) for dinner. He shows me the difference between a male and a female and an adult and an adolescent before guiding me to the kitchen to teach me how to clean it.

He removes the head and wings, and simply peals away the feathers, almost like slipping off a coat. I’m surprised at how easy it is. Immediately we see intact bilberries (blåbær) and crowberries (krekling), revealing the diet of this bird, like all the grouse in the area.  He moves away the organs and filets the breasts. He keeps as much of the meat as possible, including the carcass, to be used in the stew. The stew will cook slowly, in time for our return.

Following a light lunch of smoked salmon, eggs, bread, and tea, we gather our things and make our way outside of the cabin. Only two dogs will be joining the hunt today, Føyka and Lerka. When I ask about the names, Sirikit explains the term føyka describes when the wind blows so hard the snow swirls around, so in a way the dog is like an intense wind. Lerka means a small bird and the name was granted to her by a friend who always had a hunting dog with the name. It was when that friend decided to stop having hunting dogs that Sirikit asked to inherit the name and was gladly granted the use.

The dogs can hardly keep their excitement, but Sirikit reigns them in. She’s their trainer after all, and she is very skilled at it. In fact, she trains all the dogs and enjoys partaking in competitions around the country. She finds the challenge, the relationships, and the successes of the dogs very rewarding. It typically takes one and half  years for the dog to be fully trained and ready for the hunt.

Lars is the head hunter. He holds the gun safely in one hand as we walk only a few minutes to reach the start of the terrain. Lars has been hunting for a long time and he’s very good at it. And not just in the sense that he’s a good shot, which he is, but that he puts the safety of the team first and foremost and has immense respect for the animals and surrounding nature. He explains how important it is that everyone in the group feels comfortable and safe and how the only way to approach hunting is in an ethical and sustainable way.

They typically hunt once in the morning and once at night during the permitted hunting season, which begins 10 September and concludes on the 28 February (or 15 March for Northern Norway) . They explain it is better to hunt when there is some moisture on the ground, providing a higher concentration of odors for the dogs to smell.  Scent survives longer in the cooler conditions found in the evening or early morning hours because lower temperatures will tend to bring the scent back down to ground level.

Soon, the dogs are taken off their leashes and they run with an energy that has been building up and bubbling inside. It’s a combination of finding the prey and having fun, and you can see it in the dog’s faces as they zoom past. I can’t help but be taken away by the simple splendor all around me. Hues of red, orange, brown, white, and green cover our path. Each step in cushioned against a bed of moss or the branches of low bushes. Bilberries and crowberries are all around us and I often bend down to grab a few for a bit of nourishment. Lingonberries are also dotted around and Sirikit grabs some for tonight’s dinner. The terrain is steep as some points, but also flat in others. Not far in the distance is Hardangervidda National Park and you can see the peaks and plateaus off in the distance. It seems almost to good to be true, so I take as much of it in as I can, sometimes forgetting why we are out here in the first place.

But then I am reminded when there’s a quick scurry and Sirikit calls me over. We head toward Lars who is positing himself nearby one of the dogs. If you’ve seen a pointer dog in action, you’ll understand where its name comes from. The tail stiffens and arches upwards, the nose and body pointing toward the birds. Everything and everyone is still for a brief moment and then Lars makes the call and the dog lunges forward. The birds fly upwards and Lars takes the shot. One of the birds begin to descend, the others earnestly fly away. Lars and Sirikit instruct the dog to gather the fallen bird and bring it back to them. She’s still learning and runs around looking for a little before finding the grouse. With the grouse in her mouth, she quickly and proudly brings it to Lars.

Lars examines the grouse’s wings and tells me it is an adolescent. He tucks it into his backpack and everyone regains themselves and carries on walking. I should point out before going any further that Sirikit, Lars, and the dogs have scouted this area for a long time. They have a kinship with the grouse living in the area. They know the families, and their typical movements and favorite places to stay. They hunt with intention. And by that, I mean they don’t just shoot at every bird they get the chance to, but rather the ones they know are old enough and where it won’t cause too much disruption within the family unit.

We carry on walking. Hours pass by. Stories are shared. The terrain changes underfoot, sometimes unexpectedly. One moment it’s soft moss, the next is a slippery stone or a wet marsh. The dogs have a couple of more successful finds, but as nature would have it, no good shots. We take a break high atop. Lars places the gun safely on a large stone and leans backwards. Sirikit takes out mats for me and her to sit on. The dogs get a treat and a well-needed rest. Sirikit pulls out a thermos full of homemade ginger tea, which she passes around. We sit, still and quiet, gazing out into the distance. Sirikit hands me a slice of kling (lefse with butter and sugar) from Uvdalsleiven Bakeri. It tastes so good and seems to boosts everyone’s spirits before we head out a little longer.

Before we conclude our time, the dogs find one last group of grouse. Lars has a successful shot and we head back to the cabin with a total of two grouse from the afternoon’s hunt.

Off in the distance, a rainbow has formed. A beautiful conclusion to our time on the mountains, reminding us of our relationship to this dynamic earth and how so much beauty lies in the subtleties and moments.

When we arrive back at the cabin, Sirikit takes the rest of the dogs out for a walk and Lars heads into the kitchen. The aroma from the stew is even stronger and I hear my stomach grumble. It’s Friday and Lars pours each of us a glass of prosecco.

I ask him more questions about hunting and he shows me where they store the grouse they have caught this season. He explains the 4 and 10 rule – store the birds at 4 degrees Celsius for 10 days or at 10 degrees Celsius for 4 days. I’m even more impressed when he tells me you can freeze a whole bird, feathers and all, for years.

Sirikit and the dogs return and we swap a few more stories while Lars does the finishing touches on his grouse sauce. I rest my legs and sit at the table, the dogs finding their places on the couch. The sun has almost set and there’s a lovely orange haze coming through the windows. Overlooking the table is a large wooden moose sculpture, which Sirikit finds both obtrusive and lovely at the same time. It came with the cabin, she says, so it stays in the cabin.

The sun has set before we know it and Sirikit has lit the candles, illuminating the room. The fireplace flickers fiercely nearby and everything about the place is koselig. Lars presents us with plates of seared grouse breasts, the creamy grouse sauce, green beans, and boiled potatoes. We toast to a successful afternoon and dive in. The taste of the grouse is slightly sweet and earthy. The meat is so tender and fresh, it practically melts with each bite. We finish our meal and cap it all off with a cup of coffee and dark chocolate. After a few more tales, we say our goodbyes and I drive down the mountain. The bright blue sky now dark with only the twinkling of the stars to guide my way.

Tusen takk Sirikit, Lars, and the dogs 

Lar’s doesn’t have his recipe for grouse breasts in a creamy sauce written down with exact measurements, but here is an inspired version. And apologies for there not being any photos of the final dish. It was just too dark to capture it in the right way, but I can vouch for its amazing taste!

Lar’s Seared Grouse Breasts with a Creamy Sauce

Serves 4

• 4 grouse (1 per person)
• 1½ cups (360 ml) water
• ¾ cup + 1 Tb (200 ml) red wine
• 1¼ cups (3 dl) sour cream
• 8 juniper berries, crushed
• 3 to 4 slices brown cheese
• 1 tablespoon sugar (or a little port wine or blackcurrant cordial)
• Salt and pepper
• 3½-ounces (100 g) bacon, cut in small pieces
• 7 ounces (200 g) mushrooms, cut in small pieces
• 2 tablespoons butter, for frying

Start by preparing and cleaning the grouse. Clip the wings and feet, and remove the feathers. Cut away the breasts and set aside in the refrigerator for later.

Place the hearts, thighs, livers, stone stacks (stones removed), and carcasses in a large, heavy-bottomed pot. Pour in the water and red wine. Add in the sour cream, crushed juniper berries, slices of brown cheese, sugar, and some salt and pepper. Simmer on low for 1 to 2 hours.

Fry the bacon and mushrooms in a large skillet, until the bacon is crispy and the mushrooms are soft. Add to the sauce 15 minutes before serving to let the flavors infuse.

Right before serving, melt the butter in the skillet over high heat, until foaming. Add the grouse breasts and sear for 1 to 2 minutes, turning once. They need to be pink inside. Alternatively brown the side of the breasts and place in the oven on low heat.

To serve, remove the carcasses from the sauce. Taste a little and add more salt and pepper as desired. Place the breasts on individual plates and pour some of the sauce over. Serve with boiled potatoes, a vegetable of choice (brussels sprouts, asparagus, green beans or broccoli) and crushed fresh lingonberries (or cranberries) mixed with sugar. You can also serve with Russian peas.

The post The Grouse Hunt {Rypejakt} + Seared Grouse Breasts with a Creamy Sauce appeared first on North Wild Kitchen.

An army of snowflakes drape over the valley in a continuous flutter, creating an atmosphere that is quite magical, quite harmonious. A picture of white amidst a mountain landscape. And there, at the edge of the farm and near a trickling brook, stands the old smokehouse.

Aged timber cloaked in a history and a promising future. A future, which may not have existed had it not been important to revive and maintain this old tradition by the Traaen family.

The Traaen’s are a great example of those who are committed to their heritage and their connection to nature and the community. I had the privilege of learning about hunting in the Norwegian mountains from Olav and his son, Knut Halvor. Today, they are showing me another important aspect of Norway’s food culture and one they are learning more about themselves. The art of røyking or smoking.

Traditional smoking includes food being placed inside a chamber and exposing it to smoke which comes from the burning of one or more varieties of wood. There are two main methods of smoking, cold smoking and hot smoking. Today, we are using the cold smoking method, in which the ingredients are placed in a smoke-filled chamber away from heat. The smoke temperature varies from source to source, but Olav and Knut Halvor keep the temperature between 10-16°C /50-60°F. The time it takes depends upon what is being smoked and its size, and can range from a few hours to several weeks. Our smoking time will last between 6-24 hours, with differing times for the different products.

Cold smoking does not completely preserve the fish or meat, nor does it cook it. The texture will not alter much during cold smoking, but rather the flavor and color of the smoke binds to them. A protective layer also forms, but it does not kill off bacteria. Therefore, it is important to salt or cure the fish and meat prior to smoking them.

The key to smoking is the type of wood used as this determines the flavor and flavoring is the point of cold-smoking.  Knut Halvor is cutting down the juniper branches he collected nearby. The gently swing of his ax removes the needles from the branches and they begin to pile up alongside the tree stump. A palette of green, white and brown.

The fire is lit. It is small and unobtrusive against the rock slabs, just large enough to bring forth smoke. The juniper needles are placed inside the fire causing a burst of aroma as the smoke begins to build up.

The locally-caught fish and meat have already been hung on the upper level of the smokehouse. Olav closes the door and wedges a whittled stick through the lock. The waiting begins.

Soon smoke begins to seep from the cracks and crevices of the timber logs. An old horseshoe hangs on a nail and the smoke bellows from its edges. The entire smokehouse is alive. Its breath is dark and heavy. With the doors closed, we are merely bystanders, removed from the biggest job at hand. Aside from the occasional adding of more juniper needles to the fire chamber, the following hours really belong to the smokehouse.

The fish are the first to finish only a few hours after the doors have been closed. The following day, the meats are taken out. Everything has evolved. The smokehouse has done its job. The aroma is deep and intensely addictive. The flavors have a rich smokiness. The textures are soft, yet slightly firm. A delicate balance stricken between the curing and the smoking.

The smokehouse returns to its resting slumber as the last of the smoke leaves from within its walls.

This is nothing short of an incredible process. One that is actually quite simple and one that starts long before a fire is ever lit inside a chamber. The journey begins around the sourcing of the food and carries through to the maintaining of it and the development of it to become what is served on the plate. I’m grateful for people like the Traaens who value the understanding of their food culture and therefore take the time to understand, learn and apply the process and methods which create it.

Many thanks to the Traaens for their hospitality and willingness to share this experience!

The post The Smokehouse (Røykhuset) appeared first on North Wild Kitchen.

The tree branch cracks as my shoe presses firmly against it, pushing it deeper into the forest floor. The noise, though quick to pass, makes me hold my breath as I freeze every part of myself in anticipation of whether that one step will be enough to grab the attention of the mighty elg, moose, as it stands firmly planted atop the mossy floor. Movements must be feather-like and graceful. The silence and passage of time evoke a sense of kinship with the animal. Nothing is rushed. Nothing is taken for granted. This is a journey. And this journey begins long before such an encounter.

The history of moose hunting, elgjakt, in Norway extends far back and was possibly a prerequisite for the settlement of Norway after the last Ice Age. It is believed the moose came to Norway approximately 9,000 years ago and became a very important resource for those living in the mountainous regions. Discoveries of moose bones on settlements and from hieroglyphics during the Stone Age testify to the importance of the moose for Norwegians.

Today, the hunt is still strongly embedded into the culture though the philosophy behind hunting has moved away from a necessity for survival to a wider experience of nature, recreation, and self-sustainability. It is a way to be physically active and to be part of a team and a community. It is a way to connect with the environment and connect with the food system. The hunt, for many, is a part of who they are. And this is very much the case for the team I spent the day with in Rollag, Norway.

The first flurries of snow trickled from the sky. Not far from the dirt road, nestled in the bush and looking intently into the orange and yellow flames of the makeshift campfire, sits the team. Olav, Knut Halvor, Mathias and Ola are quietly engaging in conversation and a light meal as they warm themselves by the fire. Tass, the dog, is already out searching for a moose. Following friendly greetings, Olav shows me the strap on his rifle and points out how the seams are coming apart with use and age. He supposes it will soon be time to replace it, but it has a sentimental value as this was his father’s rifle, which was given to him. He accepts that nowadays the younger hunters desire the latest gadgets and styles, but there is something incredibly significant in the things that have been passed down. They have a history and many stories to tell.

I am told the team was formed in 1931 by the father and uncle of Even Tråen, one of the team members not present this day. Even’s uncle shot his very first moose that year despite never seeing one before. It is said that is was possibly the only moose shot in Rollag that year. A good omen, quite possibly. The hunt has played an important role throughout many generations, especially in this region.

Today, this particular team consists of around fifteen members in total, with three hunting dogs.

In between pauses to rekindle the fire and drink coffee, they explain how their team operates and what a typical hunt looks like. By law, a team must have one person act as the jaktleder (hunting leader). The hundefører is the one responsible for the dog. This person may or may not be the jaktleder, but it is usually the person who is the owner of the dog. Today, Knut Halvor is acting as both the jaktleder and hundefører. The dog is responsible for navigating the terrain and finding the animal. Once he has found the animal, it is the dog’s role to get the moose’s attention on him and keep the moose calm. The other members of the team will strategically place themselves among the terrain and sit and wait.

The hunt is very much built upon teamwork. Each hunter has various strengths and roles to contribute to the team. There are the skills of strategizing, mapping, agility, dog training, shooting, field dressing, transporting, butchering and also the character traits of patience, leadership, problem solving, honesty, and fair chase. Together, these, and so much more, make the team stronger. Each person plays a vital role and the hunt cannot succeed without each of its members.

The key factor during the hunt is the wind. The direction of the wind determines where the hunters will place themselves and the dog must always hunt against the wind. The moose has an intuitive nose and is able to pick up scents, which may cause alarm and scare him off.

When the dog finds a moose, he alerts the team by barking. The hundefører will then track the dog with his GPS and decide whether the animal is acceptable for the shot. This is determined by the local municipality who provides a list of how many male, female, young and old are acceptable to hunt. If the hundefører has determined that it is ok to take the shot, he will decide to whether to take the shot himself or to call to another team member to take it. It is important that each member who is interested in taking the shot is given the opportunity to do so.

The kill is never guaranteed. And while it is indeed the goal, there is so much more happening around the hunt. It is a holistic process and one where the journey is just as important as the intended goal. Olav tells me that some of his fondest memories are when he and his wife sit quietly next to the fire, surrounded by the forest canopy. It’s the conversations, the interactions, the waiting in the stillness. Here, time allows connections and relationships to form. Hunting is a way of life. And the respect they show for each other is the same respect they show for each and every animal.

On average, the team will get 10 moose per season. Caution and consideration go hand in hand and they ensure to only take a shot when it will be effective, so as to ensure the animal a swift death.

After the kill, those capable on the team will field dress the animal, which is the process of removing the internal organs. Tradition has it that the one who hunts the animal gets the heart and the tongue. The heart will be cured and the tongue boiled and then eaten as a way to honor the animal. Although, Olav does tell me that the taste is not for everyone so sometimes the heart and tongue go to other members of the team.

After the animal is field dressed, they take the moose back to the farm where it will be skinned and hung for around 4-8 days, depending upon the temperature. There is the ‘40 degree celsius rule’, meaning the average outdoor temperature should equal 40 before the moose is finished hanging. If the temperature is around 10 degrees, for example, then the moose should hang for 4 days. An average moose waiting to be butchered will weigh around 220kg.

I visit the old, towering barn where they hang the animals after they have been brought down from the woods. It’s wide and expansive, making the recently hunted moose look quite small in comparison. Yet, when you move closer you see just how large and majestic the animal is. I get to see the curves and beautiful coloring of the broad horns. These will go to Mathias, because this was his shot during his very first season of hunting. Each part of the moose has a purpose, and each will be used accordingly.

Knut Halvor continues to explain the anatomy of the animal and the butchering process. This particular moose will hang for a few more days, it’s flesh already firming up. To see the animal up close and in this way is quite humbling. To understand the process of where our food comes from is incredibly meaningful and brings a whole new level of respect for the animal as well as those who are hunting and making it possible for us to easily access what we often take for granted.

This one moose alone will provide enough meat to feed many people over a very long period of time. It is a delicacy. It is valuable. It is a gift from the mountains.

I am curious as to which Norwegian dishes traditionally use moose, so I ask Knut Halvor. He explains they often use the meat as a substitute for ground beef, making karbonader (meat patties) or kjøttkaker (meatballs). Other dishes include elgpølser (sausages), speket elgkjøtt (cured elg), gryter (stews) and steak. He tells me he has recently boiled the tongue for four hours, which he then thinly slices and puts on top of sliced bread with butter. I’m curious and so I visit his home down the road to see and taste kokt tunge.

The texture is slightly chewy, yet soft. It’s flavorful, similar to beef. I immediately imagine a time when nothing was thrown out, but rather every part served a purpose. While nowadays most of us have the luxury of picking and choosing our ingredients, not too long ago many survived on what they could access and most peasant dishes relied on cheaper cuts of the animal. It is often our mindset that gets in the way of what can be an enjoyable dish and so it is nice to see that some traditions remain constant.

The woods are a wondrous place and to be able to spend some time learning from and hearing the stories of this team was an incredible experience. To see so much passion and respect for nature and each other was clearly visible from the moment I met them around the open fire. They value the moments and the processes that make up the journey. They are committed to the hunt and each other. They even calculate each year as before the hunt and after the hunt. So, you see, the hunt is very much a part of who they are, their makeup, their DNA.

To have a genuine connection to the environment and to the food we consume is something to aspire to.

Tusen takk Olav, Knut Halvor, Ola, Mathias & Tass (the dog) 

For some elg/moose recipe inspiration, try my Wild Moose Burger with Forest Berry Relish

Sources: Terra Buskerud, Elgjakt

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