Hopefully you already saw my post last Tuesday with an overview of the Icelandic tradition of the Yule Lads. If you haven’t, go back and read that first so this will make more sense. According to folklore, today — December 19 — is the day when the eighth Yule Lad arrives.

The eighth Yule Lad’s name is Skyrgámur, which translates as Skyr-Gobbler. His particular brand of mischief is that he has a great affinity for Skyr, which is similar to yogurt. It’s a “traditional Icelandic cultured dairy product. It has the consistency of strained yogurt, but a milder flavor. Skyr can be classified as a fresh sour milk cheese, similar to curd cheese consumed like a yogurt in the Baltic states, the Low Countries, Germany and Russia. It has been a part of Icelandic cuisine for centuries. Skyr has a slightly sour dairy flavor, with a hint of residual sweetness. It is traditionally served cold, either plain or with cream. Commercial manufacturers of skyr have added flavors such as vanilla, coffee, or fruit.”

Here’s how he’s described in the 1932 Icelandic poem, “Yule Lads,” by Jóhannes úr Kötlum:

Skyr Gobbler, the eighth,
was an awful stupid bloke.
He lambasted the skyr tub
till the lid on it broke.
Then he stood there gobbling
– his greed was well known –
until, about to burst,
he would bleat, howl and groan.

Skyr-Gobbler arrives each year on December 19, and leaves again on New Year’s Day, January 1.

And here’s a more thorough explanation, by Robert Nelson, on Medium.

Skyrgámur brings us back to a familiar theme…a Yule Lad who sneaks into your home to steal food. In this case, the offending miscreant is after your skyr, a kind of Icelandic yogurt. This yogurt was usually kept in a cool, dry place in a barrell-like tub.

Frankly, there’s little need to delve into why Skyrgámur is after your yogurt. After all, Icelandic yogurt hit the big time about ten years ago and is a fixture on American grocery shelves to this day. The national brand is Siggis, and Trader Joe’s carries their own version of Icelandic yogurt as well. Icelandic yogurt swooped in after Greek yogurt had made a splash in the early part of the 21st century, and is marketed as a healthier alternative to regular American yogurts.

Skyr is made from different cultures, which provide a naturally sweeter taste than yogurt, without the addition of extra sugar. It’s also very thick…it takes more milk to make skyr than to make yogurt, and as a result, it’s a very dense consistency. Icelanders are accustomed to “cutting” their skyr with regular milk to lighten it up a bit. So there you have it, your insider tip: add milk to your yogurt for a lighter consistency and to make it last longer!

At any rate, Skyrgámur knows that skyr is delicious, but doesn’t care much for the milk trick…he’ll just gobble it straight out of your tub. Not very sanitary, if you ask me.

And here’s another, from Iceland24:

Skyr Gobbler, the eighth one,
Was a terrible bull.
The lid off the skyr tub
With his fist he smashed.

Then he gobbled up
As much as he could,
Till he was close to bursting
And moaned and grunted.

Skyr (or farköst) is a type of cheese, though it more resembles a very thick yogurt. The Greek yogurt that has become so popular lately resembles it, but not exactly. Skyr tastes tangy, thick and rich, yet it actually is low fat.

Like yogurt, you need to use a “starter” culture from a previous batch of skyr. Milk with all of the cream skimmed out is mixed with buttermilk, rennet and a bit of older skyr culture and brought to a boil. It is allowed to cool down slowly so the rennet can “work its magic.” A curd and whey has been created. The mixture is strained through something like cheese cloth until all the whey has dripped out. (The whey is saved as a preservative for meats). The remaining “curds” are skyr.

Skyrgámur is not the brightest Yule Lad in the litter, and after a full year of doing other things (he is into collecting snow in the winter and dew drops in the summer and his collection keeps getting stolen by someone mysterious), he often forgets exactly how to do his job. Eat it, play with it, throw it at someone, decorate it? His Terrible Terror friend is just as forgetful but still 100% of a prankster. Deadly combination.

They call him stupid, but apart from his lack of temperance Skyrgámur is not that stupid. For those who are wondering, skyr is a low-fat and very high in proteins dairy product, similar to strained yogurt, but much healthier. Thanks to its components, skyr’s nutritional benefits are quite remarkable.

So if you don’t want to share any of your cultural experiences with Skyrgámur, hide your yogurt, skyr, buttermilk, filmjölk, kefir and sour cream from sight between Dec 19 and Jan 1.

The 13 Yule Lads, Mom, Dad and Cat:

Hopefully you already saw my post last Tuesday with an overview of the Icelandic tradition of the Yule Lads. If you haven’t, go back and read that first so this will make more sense. According to folklore, today — December 18 — is the day when the seventh Yule Lad arrives.

The seventh Yule Lad’s name is Hurðaskellir, which translates as Door-Slammer. As you can probably guess from his name, his particular brand of mischief is that he likes to slam doors, especially during the night, waking people up.

Here’s how he’s described in the 1932 Icelandic poem, “Yule Lads,” by Jóhannes úr Kötlum:

The seventh was Door Slammer,
a sorry, vulgar chap:
When people in the twilight
would take a little nap,
he was happy as a lark
with the havoc he could wreak,
slamming doors and hearing
the hinges on them squeak.

Door-Slammer arrives each year on December 18, and leaves again on New Year’s Eve, December 31.

And here’s a more thorough explanation, by Robert Nelson, on Medium.

Hurðaskellir is, depending on your point of view, either a fun loving miscreant or a deeply disturbed sociopath. You see, he enjoys sneaking into your home for the express purpose of slamming doors. He’s not just in it for the loud noises, although it does seem to provide him a great deal of pleasure. Instead, he waits until you’re asleep, and then slams the door. He’s trying to wake you up!

The poem identifies his preferred moment as “twilight,” which, in Iceland at this time of year, is in the mid-afternoon (3:30 pm, or so, in Reykjavik). Remember, the land of the midnight sun in summer is the land of perpetual darkness in winter. You’ll experience a good three hours or so of day-like conditions between sunrise (the sun poking its head out from behind the mountains) and sunset (the sun returning to the darkness). The bright side of all of this is that when Hurðaskellir, you’re probably well-rested because there’s not much to do during this time other than rest at home.

Also, I can’t really imagine a regular human being would be drawn to the mechanical squeaking of door hinges, but Hurðaskellir is into that as well. More evidence that he is unwell.

And here’s another, from Iceland24:

Seventh was Door Slammer,
– He was a little brash.
When people in the dark
Wanted to nap.

He was not one bit
Sorry for that,
If loud, creaking noises
Came from the hinges.

Hurðaskellir (Door Slammer) is a peculiar Yule Lad and much more of a prankster than most of his brothers. He doesn’t care much for food, but he’s got the obsessive addiction of door-slamming. No door is safe when this crazy rascal is around. The louder the noise, the better – and just to be sure, better repeating the trick more than once in a row: Hurðaskellir’s ego is quite troublesome.

We all know people with the annoying tendency of being very noisy when they close doors, but the problem with Hurðaskellir is that he likes to do that at night. I suggest that you don’t forget to lock any single door in your house, especially if you’re living with somebody with severe heart conditions…

What’s worse is that Hurðaskellir seems to have a fan club with a lot of children in it, because they just LOVE to slam doors and say they are imitating their favorite hero.

Hurðaskellir is going to harass your doors on 18 December.

The 13 Yule Lads, Mom, Dad and Cat:

Hopefully you already saw my post on Tuesday with an overview of the Icelandic tradition of the Yule Lads. If you haven’t, go back and read that first so this will make more sense. According to folklore, today — December 17 — is the day when the sixth Yule Lad arrives.

The sixth Yule Lad’s name is Askasleikir, which translates as Bowl-Licker. His particular brand of mischief is hiding under beds, waiting for someone to put down their askur (a type of bowl with a lid used instead of dishes), and then stealing it so he can lick whatever remaining food is inside.

Here’s how he’s described in the 1932 Icelandic poem, “Yule Lads,” by Jóhannes úr Kötlum:

Bowl Licker, the sixth one,
was shockingly ill bred.
From underneath the bedsteads
he stuck his ugly head.
And when the bowls were left
to be licked by dog or cat,
he snatched them for himself
– he was sure good at that!

Bowl-Licker arrives each year on December 17, and leaves again on December 30.

And here’s a more thorough explanation, by Robert Nelson, on Medium.

Askasleikir, or the Bowl-Licker, performs a task that should be unsurprising at this point. If there is food leftover in your bowl after you put it away, he will come and lick it up. Yes, he is a continuation of the theme of a small, menacing little guy who comes to steal food, but this one makes a little less sense to the discriminating 21st-century mind.

You see, in the Iceland of yesteryear, “Icelanders ate from lidded wooden bowls that they sometimes kept under the bed or on the floor.” So Askasleikir would hide under your bed, and emerge to swipe the remains from your bowl if you put it away or down on the floor without thoroughly eating your meal or cleaning the bowl. The “askur” was a particular type of wooden bowl that had a lid (primitive Tupperware). And so Askasleikir, as you might expect, emerges to lick these special kinds of bowls.

Now, up to this point, all of the Icelandic Yule Lads have been, for lack of a better descriptor, petty thieves. As cautionary tales, they might be mobilized to encourage children to finish their dinners and thoroughly clean their living spaces before going to bed.

And here’s another, from Iceland24:

The sixth, Bowl Licker,
Was without a peer.
-From under the beds, he
Pushed his ugly head.

When the bowls were placed
In front of cat and dog,
He cunningly snatched them
And licked till he was full.

Askasleikir (Bowl Licker) is the 6th in the Yule Lads gang to visit during the Christmas period. He arrives on the 17th of December. I don’t want to make it sound like I am partial – because in fact I am not – but I think Askasleikir is very sly. At least, more than the majority of his brothers.

In the old times, especially in farmhouses, Icelanders used to eat from lidded bowls sitting on their beds. The lidded bowls prevented the food from getting cold and were usually placed on the floor or under the bed in between bites.

Askasleikir specialized in hiding under furniture waiting for these moments and refined his art over the years. When something edible is placed on the floor, he stretches his arms and steals it.

I suspect it may be this gentleman’s fault that children are so afraid of monsters hiding under the bed at night.

The 13 Yule Lads, Mom, Dad and Cat:

Hopefully you already saw my post on Tuesday with an overview of the Icelandic tradition of the Yule Lads. If you haven’t, go back and read that first so this will make more sense. According to folklore, today — December 16 — is the day when the fifth Yule Lad arrives.

The fifth Yule Lad’s name is Pottaskefill, which translates as Pot-Scraper. His particular brand of mischief is stealing leftovers from pots.

Here’s how he’s described in the 1932 Icelandic poem, “Yule Lads,” by Jóhannes úr Kötlum:

Pot-Scraper, the fifth one,
was a funny sort of chap.
When kids were given scrapings,
he’d come to the door and tap.
And they would rush to see
if there really was a guest.
Then he hurried to the pot
and had a scraping fest.

Pot-scraper arrives each year on December 16, and leaves again on December 29.

And here’s a more thorough explanation, by Robert Nelson, on Medium.

Pottaskefill is sneaky like the others, to be sure, but he’s also a prankster. He performs one of the most basic pranks known to humankind: he knocks on your door, and then promptly runs away before you open to reveal nobody at the front porch. In a variation of this prank, however, Pottaskefill runs around back and scrapes the remains from your pot and eats it before you even know what has happened.

You might be thinking that this is the same sort of mischief as Stúfur, but I assure you, a pot and a pan are quite different things. And, if you hang with this series long enough, we will move beyond the simple licking of kitchen implements and vessels and get into some other creative mischief!

And here’s another, from Iceland24:

The fifth, Pot Licker,
Was a weird cool lad.
As the children received scrapings,
He knocked at the door.

They rushed off to see
If a guest was dropping in.
Then he hurried to the pot,
And had a filling meal.

It’s Pottaskefill, the pot licker. Most of us, admit it, are not fond of leftovers (spam hash, anybody?). This Yule Lad lives for them! He patiently waits until households are finished with their cooking. Then he sneaks in and demolishes the leftovers in the pot with lightning speed.

His job is easy to do with the normal Viking household, but the Vikings on Berk are quite well grown, and the chances of leftovers are not great.

But Pottaskefill has picked up a few tricks over the years to guarantee he gets leftovers. Vikings had a notorious love of seasoning, gaining new tastes as they traveled on trading missions and their raid- oops, I mean, acquiring new possessions without paying for them. A wealthier household might have spices such as cumin, pepper, saffron, ginger, cardamom, cloves, nutmeg, mace, cinnamon, anise-seed, and bay leaves. In fact, Scandinavia is one of the few regions outside of South Asia that uses cardamom as a staple spice.

Anyway, like a Viking trader, Pottaskefill has collected his own formidable armada of seasonings from his visits. He has strung them onto a bandolier like vest that he wears when he visits Berk. And he uses them liberally and inappropriately (lots of salt in the deserts, honey and cinnamon in the meat soup, etc.). And lots and lots and lots of hot peppers.

Top it off with a few extra logs to insure the fire will burn the food, and Pottaskefill has guaranteed leftovers! It’s a good thing he has developed a cast iron stomach over the years. Some of the other Yule Lads and Grýla have noticed, actually, that he no longer can eat food if it tastes good.

The 13 Yule Lads, Mom, Dad and Cat:

Hopefully you already saw my post on Tuesday with an overview of the Icelandic tradition of the Yule Lads. If you haven’t, go back and read that first so this will make more sense. According to folklore, today — December 15 — is the day when the fourth Yule Lad arrives.

The fourth Yule Lad’s name is Þvörusleikir, which translates as Spoon-Licker. He’s described as being “extremely thin due to malnutrition.” His particular brand of mischief is stealing and licking wooden spoons.

Here’s how he’s described in the 1932 Icelandic poem, “Yule Lads,” by Jóhannes úr Kötlum:

The fourth was Spoon Licker;
like spindle he was thin.
He felt himself in clover
when the cook wasn’t in.
Then stepping up, he grappled
the stirring spoon with glee,
holding it with both hands
for it was slippery.

Spoon-Licker arrives each year on December 15, and leaves again on December 28.

And here’s a more thorough explanation, by Robert Nelson, on Medium.

Most of the Yule Lads appear to engage in food thievery for the purpose of supplementing their calorie intake, but for Þvörusleikir, it’s a matter of sustenance. You see, Þvörusleikir is rail-thin, it is thought, due to malnutrition. He comes on the 15 of December in search of wooden spoons to pilfer and lick. The wooden spoon is quite a popular cooking utensil in Iceland…I have never understood why that’s the case.

Nevertheless, he is exemplary of the theme that we are continuing to follow, namely, that the Yule Lads’ mischief is both harmlessly funny and potentially vital to their survival in a climate that would otherwise be harsh and potentially inhospitable.

And here’s another, from Iceland24:

The fourth, Pot-Scraper Licker,
Was a very skinny lad.
And he was very happy,
When the cook went away.

He ran like lightning
And grabbed the pot-scraper,
Held it fast with both hands,
As it was sometimes slippery.

Þvörusleikir, it loosely means “Spoon Licker,” but it really means “Pot Scraper Licker.”

Modern depictions of this Yule Lad show him as a very skinny guy licking a wooden spoon, but actually the spoon was not a spoon. It was a Viking age (and later) kitchen tool called a “Pot Scraper.” This was a very long and skinny kitchen tool with a tip that was more like a very small, flat and narrow spatula rather than a spoon. It was a “þvera”, pot scraper.

This goes back to the days when you did not waste food. So when you made soups and stews and porridge in Viking Days, you always needed to have them warm and ready to serve. This was specially so in the Mead Hall when you needed to have some warming food always on hand for people who needed it, whether it was a rescue crew going out on a mission or a traveler who stumbled into town and needed some hot, good food to warm up after a long journey. Hospitality to strangers was a point of pride for Vikings, so that kettle of hot, freshened soup or stew or gruel was vital.

Þvörusleikir loves to steal the Þvera pot scraper from the Mead Hall and all the various households each night. He sticks each household Þvera in his mouth and licks it, pulling out the flavors of the stew or porridge.

It’s not that efficient, and the other Yule Lads point this out often to Þvörusleikir. There just is not that much nutrition you can get out of licking a pot scraper or spoon or ladle. You’d do better to just pony up and buy a tasty, nutritious bowl of soup or stew.

But Þvörusleikir has his pride. He feels the wood of the þvera and the ingredients soaking into it somehow give it a real gourmet status. When you lick the þvera you bring out all the hidden flavors and have a true Michelin 4 star experience in gourmet spoon licking.

So, there’s no use for it. Þvörusleikir lives on licking each household´s scraper and he is one skinny dude since there really is not a whole of nutrition coating the average Þvera or spoon or ladle.

Well, that’s what happens on between Dec. 15 and Dec 28. Hang onto your ladles and wooden kitchen spoons because they are a hot commodity when Þvörusleikir is on the prowl!

The 13 Yule Lads, Mom, Dad and Cat: