This was a midnight snack, I think.

One helping.

2 tbsp butter
a little corn oil
a pinch of sea salt
3-4 drops of Tabasco, or more
a pinch of dried sage
two pinches of dried rosemary
1 tsp honey
3 tbsp 20% sour cream (20% fat)
3-4 fresh champignons (or other mushrooms if you have them!)
a chunk of fresh salmon
1 lompe

Goscinny and Uderzo, in one of their comic books about Asterix & Obelix, mocked us for using cream sauces all the time, I believe in the story about Asterix and the vikings. The vikings didn’t know fear, not at all, and had to go to Gaul to find out what it was. Eventually they learned, by listening to the unfortunate singing talent of the little village, who always ends up gagged and tied to a tree or something. Jumping off cliffs, doing other violent things and even fighting with Obelix didn’t affect the northern rascals, but some musical sensibility they must have had. Interesting.

Well, I guess there’s something to the cream joke, at least there used to be. Creamed sauces was a treat when I was a kid, the rich, fat, white stuff mixed with the stock from the lamb steak or some other meat, simple and nice. I used to slurp it in tiny portions, actually with the fork, in a strange clumsy way that I still sometimes exercise. I remember well my concentration on the taste of the sauce, the limited view of the plate and myself bending down, also in order not to spill anything and get it quickly into my mouth, before it seeped down from the prongs. A small sport.

Our sour cream, rømme, has a slightly different taste than the crème fraiche that is sold here, and the light version (20 % fat) I find delicious, although the fatty one, seterrømme, is closer to the traditional stuff, I think.

You can make other things than sauce with it. It is an efficient ingredient in bakery, waffles and the likes. I remember my mom used to pour milk that were about to go bad and small amounts of cream that already had gone sour into the batter of pancakes or waffles. ‘Tidying up the fridge’, she called it, using all the small remains of her kids’ little raids in the fridge, and of her own cooking.

Another childhood treat for me, a small one, was sour cream with flatbrød, the unleavened flat, crispy things with the picture on the package of an old granny baking them. That picture has been there all my life, I think, it looks like it was taken around the same time as Ivo Caprino made his famous small animated films of our fairy tales. She looks almost like Asbjørnsen, the half of Asbjørnsen & Moe, our pendant to Perrault and the Grimm brothers.

What a digression.

Well, anyway: Sour cream, too much sugar and crunched flatbrød, that’s
the recipe. Even with the sugar, it’s still good for my stomach. I don’t like
yoghurt, but this feels just as healthy for me. Tastes good, too.

This recipe is also simple:

Crush the herbs in a mortar.

Cut the mushrooms as you would like to eat them, and the fish in cubes of say 3×3 cm.

Heat the fat in the pan, then add the herbs, salt, chili sauce and honey. Cook it a minute or two to mix and to develop a little extra taste.

Make sure that the fat is fairly hot when you put the mushrooms into the pan, but don’t wait too long.

Fry them for a few minutes, until they start getting brown and are almost done, then add the fish and give it a few more minutes.

Stir in the sour cream in the end, a little before the fish is done, then quickly
put everything on a plate. If it’s all hot enough the sour cream will form a
little sauce and the fish will finish on the plate.

Serve with a lompe spread with butter, or in a lompe. The sauce will be sticky, of course, so your choice how to eat it.

I was lucky to have found some really firm and fresh champignons, almost white all through, and they were even very small, which is always the best, I think.

It’s all supposed to be spicy and creamy.