There are probably as many recipes for lefse as there are Scandinavian cooks. I even have a recipe book that has nothing but lefse recipes in it. This recipe was given to me by Aunt Lena who made great lefse. When she got to the point where she wasn’t able to make it anymore, she gave me her griddle and lefse stick.

One of the first gifts my Dad gave my mother after they were married was a lefse rolling pin. My mother and Aunt Jenny would make huge batches of dough and bake it on top of the wood stove at Aunt Jenny’s house. After my folks moved to Clancy, my Mom and Dad baked lefse on the wood stove in their garage. When I inherited Mom’s rolling pin, it was pretty well worn out, and I was having trouble getting the dough out of the grooves, so Jim bought me a new one. A couple of Christmases later, he gave me a new griddle, and then later on, a cloth-covered board for rolling. What romantic men! They go to great lengths to ensure their supply of lefse. Now, when we make our lefse, I am the roller and Jim is the baker. He’s getting pretty handy with that lefse stick, but once in a while I have to caution him to just poke the bubbles, not beat the lefse to death!

So here is Aunt Lena’s recipe:

Peel, cube, and boil ten pounds of potatoes. White are the best, but last year we made a batch with Yukon Gold and the dough rolled out just fine. Make sure that no moisture remains on the potatoes. My mom used to drain the potatoes, shake them over the burner to evaporate any moisture in the pan, and then cover them for a few minutes with a dish towel to absorb the steam.

Put through a ricer or a food mill to remove all the lumps. I tried using the food processor but it turned the potatoes to glue. You should have about 12 cups of potatoes. Add ½ cup of half-and-half or cream and ½ cup butter or margarine when the potatoes are still hot. Refrigerate until very cold; overnight is best. When cold, mix in 4 cups flour, 1 tablespoon salt, and ¼ cup powdered sugar. Aunt Lena warns that if you add salt when the potatoes are hot, you will have tough lefse and it will be hard to roll out.


I measure the dough out by 1/3 cupfuls and place it back in the refrigerator. If it gets warm, it gets sticky and is difficult to roll. Roll the dough on a heavily floured surface, turning it over a couple of times as you roll. I start with a regular rolling pin and switch to the lefse rolling pin when it starts to get thin. Roll as thin as possible and try to keep it round (ha ha). Transfer the dough with the lefse stick to the ungreased griddle which has been heated to the highest setting. Fry until brown spots appear on one side, turn it, and do the same thing on the other side. Poke holes with the lefse stick in the large bubbles that appear. Transfer to a wax paper covered countertop and stack one on top of the other as they are baked. Keep a dish towel or a wad of paper towel handy to brush off the flour that accumulates on the griddle (the baker’s responsibility).

When finished baking, fold each lefse round in quarters and, when thoroughly cooled, store in plastic bags in the freezer. Then the roller and the baker argue about who gets to eat the less than perfect lefse—the ones with holes and tears. When serving the lefse, I think it is better if it is allowed to come to room temperature.

In our family the traditional way to eat lefse is to spread it with butter and brown sugar and roll it tightly. My dad loved it with turkey, dressing, and cranberry sauce on holidays. Others like sugar and cinnamon, or jam.

Just don’t insult a Scandinavian by calling it a tortilla, even if there is a slight resemblance.
At the bottom of Aunt Lena’s lefse recipe, she has written “good luck.” She also spells it with an “a” instead of an “e.”