Lamb: Beyond-the-paleo Viking diet fit for your Super Bowl party
Super Bowl weekend is a time when a man's attention turns to two teams he's been indifferent about his whole life and must decide which one he suddenly hates more. (It's whichever one's quarterback has the supermodel wife.)...
Super Bowl weekend is a time when a man’s attention turns to two teams he’s been indifferent about his whole life and must decide which one he suddenly hates more. (It’s whichever one’s quarterback has the supermodel wife.)
Actually, the Super Bowl is loaded with many important decisions – namely, what to eat before and during the big game as well as what you want to keep tasting over the days following? Pizza? Chili? Nachos? Nacho chili pizza sucked down a beer funnel?
This year I’m trying something different. I’m setting aside the standard finger food and trendy hors d’oeuvres for the ultimate fad food. Since the Minnesota Vikings will never get in the Super Bowl in my life (unless Teddy Bridgewater hurries up and marries Kate Upton), I’ll still be feasting Minnesota this Sunday thanks to the Viking Diet.
Technically the Viking Diet has nothing to do with the team, though it really couldn’t hurt them to try it out.
Instead the so-called New Nordic Diet is the latest fad diet. It’s kind of like the Mediterranean Diet, with an emphasis on whole grains, fruits, vegetables, eggs, oil and seafood – just, well, whiter. Instead of olive oil, the Nordic diet utilizes canola oil and root vegetables indigenous to Scandinavia, like turnips, parsnips and potatoes. It’s similar to the Paleo Diet, which suggests eating only what cavemen would’ve eaten, but instead of red meat, the Nordic Diet promotes more fish. Think of it as putting the pale back in paleo.
While the diet originated in Copenhagen in 2004, people really started jumping on the band-Volvo State-side late last year, leaving followers of the Mediterranean Diet feeling just kind of, meh.
And don’t even go Paleo on me. That was so 2 million years ago. What kind of Neanderthal can’t enjoy a nice drink with that wooly mammoth steak? Who do they think I am? Fred Flintsober?
No, this new Scan diet is the one for me. I really need to get back into tunic shape before pillaging season. Since my mom is mostly Norwegian, eating like a Viking is my birth rite, as I’ve shown by my tireless advocacy for the Sons of Norway on Pie Day.
Which brings up a sore spot with this Nordic diet, as it forgoes processed food, like pie crusts.
What about those other Scandinavian delicacies? What about Swedish pancakes topped with Swedish meatballs? Or Danish Danishes? How will I know dinner is over without the traditional Ole & Lena fortune cookie wrapped in plastic? Will the Nordic Diet meet the stringent requirements of the Ikea café?
And that raises my biggest concern with this diet – where does it stand on coffee? My knowledge of Nordic life – and death – comes from Scandinavian murder-mysteries and the one thing I’ve taken from that is that when Scandihoovians aren’t downing something stronger, they’re drinking coffee. It’s lifeblood for those poor, dark souls.
Still, changes need to be made in how I eat. So if a plate of fish and berries and a boiled potato will magically transform my apartment into a sleek, well-lit flat with mid-century modern, wooden furniture, and get me to dance to ABBA and make me more comfortable in a sauna, then I say, “Skol, Vikings!”