Winter doldrums got you down? A cold or even the flu has you under the
weather? The Danish notion of “Hygge,” which many Danes think of as a feeling
of coziness, togetherness and contentment, may be just what you need to get
through the dark, cold days of February. I’ve just started The Little Book of Hygge: Danish Secrets to Happy Living by Meik
Wiking. It’s an whimsically illustrated book that shows how you can embrace
“Hygge”—a Danish term that looks like it could be pronounced “Huggee” or with a
stretch of the imagination, “Hug Me,” but it’s apparently pronounced “Hoo-ga.”
However you say it, now is the perfect time to treat yourself to fresh air, extra
light, and comforting food and surroundings. And yes, lots of hugs.
It would be great if “Hygge” happened magically or spontaneously, but
it does take some prior planning. Maybe fit some outdoor time into your day—a lunchtime
walk, or after work, a ramble in the park with a friend in the dusk. Next time
you’re at the store, you might lay in a supply of soup-making ingredients. And of course, some quality chocolate.
Once you’re home, get out the soup pot, and into your jammies and fuzzy
socks. Live flames of some kind (preferably not coming from your stove!) will
really lift the spirits—if you don’t have a fireplace, how about candlelight?
Have beeswax or soy candles on hand (they don’t emit chemically fumes like
paraffin). Instead of lolling on the couch in front of the news, read a fun book or watch a PBS mystery. (Try to steer clear of The
Walking Dead or anything similar—the Hygge vibe doesn’t really go with blood and
gore.)
Here at Berryridge Farm, you’ve always got an excuse to (or a reason to
make yourself) get outside, even in winter. I’ll chop a little firewood, and
turn the compost pile to keep it from freezing. In the evenings, John will have
a fire going in the woodstove. While I like candlelight as well as the next
person, lit candles just remind me of having a power outage. Instead, we turn
on a string of holiday lights we keep in the living room window until Daylight Savings Time. For entertainment, John loves nothing better
than a Japanese Samurai film...lots of swords, angst, and everyone dies at the end--but with a Zen-like acceptance.
I just finished Marian Keyes' latest Irish comedy-drama, The Woman Who Stole my Life, so for me, it's back to TV. This week, I'm re-watching The Forsythe Saga (Masterpiece Theatre). It’s not Downtown Abbey (sigh…6 seasons just weren’t enough) but a beautifully acted historical drama with Downton-worthy gowns!
I just finished Marian Keyes' latest Irish comedy-drama, The Woman Who Stole my Life, so for me, it's back to TV. This week, I'm re-watching The Forsythe Saga (Masterpiece Theatre). It’s not Downtown Abbey (sigh…6 seasons just weren’t enough) but a beautifully acted historical drama with Downton-worthy gowns!
Back to soup: a few days ago, John and I were down with the flu, and not up for the
65-mile round trip to the supermarket. The fridge was looking pretty empty—I
was down to 3 carrots, a chunk of onion, a potato and no fresh meat. My garden kale was
a wreck due to several weeks of bitter cold, and I’d used all but one of the
parsnips I’d managed to harvest before the ground froze in December. But thanks
to forethought and a bountiful garlic harvest, we had enough staples on hand
for what I call:
Cupboards Are Bare Flu Soup:
1 quart chicken broth
½ onion
3 big cloves garlic
2 carrots
1 medium potato
1 large parsnip
½ cup dried green lentils
1 6 oz. can tomato paste
Peel and chop the veggies, and saute in a generous amount of olive oil.
If you like a brothy soup (I do), in a separate pot, cook the lentils in a
couple of inches of water for 20 minutes or so. After both the lentils and
veggies are soft, combine in your soup pot and add the broth and tomato paste.
Some garlic powder and herbs from the garden are nice—I used some freshly
picked thyme, which grows all winter here in the Foothills. Stir well, and
while it’s simmering for 30 minutes or so, give your partner, child, or pet a
hug!
The Sunday afternoon before I got sick I made some walnut chocolate
cookies (see recipe in my November 2016 post) and still had a half dozen in the
freezer. That evening, we had soup with whole grain bread and homemade cookies,
and voila—nourishing Hygge food!
What's your version of Hygge? I hope you'll share it here!