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This month's posts - Now your goose is cooked |

torsdag, november 11, 2004

Now your goose is cooked 



It seems that I may have been a bit hasty in my prediction that ABBA were about to take over from Yasser Arafat in my last post. Despite the fact that it might be the best thing to happen in the region and, as an expat friend of mine living in Cairo quipped "They're at least a leader you can dance to", I read today in the Radio Sweden site that there was to be no ABBA reunion.

I guess that leaves Suha Arafat as the Dancing Queen.





Yesterday, all over the southern areas of Sweden, in the provinces of Skåne and Småland, people enjoyed Mårten Gås. As usual, the Swedes are out of synch with every other nation that celebrates this day on November 11th. But hey, it's not the first time they choose to stand out on their own. Known in other parts of Europe as St Martin's Day, it was originally in memory of St. Martin of Tours (ca 316–397). He was a French bishop, who rather than be made bishop, gave away all of his money to the poor and hid in a goosehouse. The geese's cackling gave him away and he was so angered by this that he decided they should be slaughtered annually on his name's day.

The festival has also come to be associated with Martin Luther, whose feast day is on the 10th. For centuries this date was important in farmers' calendars. Traditionally, the day marks the end of the autumn work and the beginning of winter activities. So, really it's the very last autumn celebration. And this is the time of year that the geese are at their fattest, so it's an ideal time for a goose feast (if you like that sort of thing).

In Skåne in particular, goose banquets are served in both homes and at restaurants. Such meals traditionally begin with a bowl of svartsoppa ("blacksoup"), which they describe as "a mellow bisque made of goose-blood and spices". Excuse me while I get a bucket. Honestly, the Swedes have some strange ideas about taste. I could only find an English version of the recipe on a Polish website and it didn't sound all that nice. But, you decide for yourself. I think Mother Goose would turn in her grave.

Me? No way! We are having vegetarian pizza for dinner.




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