We are fans of nose to tail dining. Den Glade Gris was just a block from our hotel, and specialized in slow-cooked Grilled pork knuckle (at least 5 hours on the grill), with house mashed potatoes, rustic vegetables and mustard sauce. We really liked the trotters at Au Pied du Cochon in Paris, so this is the one place in Oslo where I made a reservation.
It was pretty casual, so I thought we might not have had to make a reservation, but as we left, there was a line down the block. My only hesitation with the place was that their 3-course Prix Fixe menu started with
Smoked whale from the Norwegian Sea, served with red onion, ruccola and lingonberry sour cream.
I do my research, and I had studied up on Norwegian food before the trip. Norway is one of three countries, along with Iceland and Japan, that continues whaling. Whale hunting has been a part of Norwegian culture for centuries, and the minke whale is so populous that it is the one they fish (harpoon? ). It’s a small whale and not endangered, so it was kind of a dilemma, don’t judge people’s traditions, a little bit of curiosity as a foodie, and my years as an animal rights activist hanging out with members of Sea Shephard. My morality won out and I made the decision not to try it.
I ordered the pork knuckle, and Bob’s mom ordered the pork steak. They asked, “The chefs?” and we all looked at each other confused, and said, “sure.”
They brought a single plate to the table and put it in front of Bob’s mom. Since Bob and I didn’t get plates, I realized in horror, “Oh no! We ordered the whale!”
Bob’s mom nonchalantly popped a piece in her mouth, and my jaw hit the floor. But she had lived in a refugee camp for several years as a child and was probably grateful for whatever food she gets. Then Bob reached over and ate a piece. Who is this man? What is happening? I asked, “What does it taste like?”
And they said, “Smoked leather.”
Having grown up with brothers, it is hard for me to resist even the subtlest peer pressure, or dares that involve me proving that I am tough. So when Bob’s mom put a bit on a cracker for me, I did take a little nibble. Smoked leather with a liver-y aftertaste. I immediately ordered a beer because it was needed by both my palate and my conscience.
The pork knuckle was tender and flavorful, well worth coming back for. I tried some of the neck steak and it was nice, like pork loin. I don’t remember if Bob ordered the neck, or anything at all, because I was kind of freaking out about whale the whole time.
Bob’s mom’s third course was ice cream with candied bacon. I don’t think I even tried it. I had had enough adventure.
Our very friendly and exuberant hosts
Suicide food
When I got back, I told this story to my neighbors. The husband asked what kind of whale it was.
“Minke”
Wife: Ohhhh aren’t those the cute little ones that look like dolphins?
Me: Crawled into a hole and died.
I later told my brother “They made me eat whale.”
He asked, “Did you blubber?”
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Olive Garden has nothing on these people. I was wandering around looking for a place for lunch and saw a Mexican restaurant. Whaaat? But I saw camarones al mojo de ajo and that sounded so good. So did a margarita, but what was I thinking, of course I can’t have a margarita.
The decor would interest my friend Linda.
The mojo de ajo was an appetizer, Look at that. Alfalfa sprouts! It was OK, the shrimp here are awesome, but it was not al mojo de ajo.
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