Latvian sweet soup in Brazil

In 2009, the museum went on an expedition to Brazil. During the expedition, a multicultural food market in the city of Americana was also visited, where local Brazilian Latvians had their own stand offering traditional Latvian dishes. One of the dishes available for purchase was “sweet soup.” The photo shows Erliņš Arājs with his sister Nansi.

Give us today our daily bread (Rūdolfs and Irma Grava)

The Liepāja handicrafts teacher Rudolfs Fridrihs Grava made this bread platter in 1929 as a wedding anniversary gift for his wife, Irma Grava (née Mindenbergs). Irma and Rudolfs took this platter with them when they fled with their four youngest children during the Second World War, leaving Liepāja aboard an evacuation ship. Later, they packed the platter among their belongings when moving from a refugee camp in Germany to their new country of residence, the United States. After arriving in Baltimore, USA, the bread platter proved useful—it is believed that for many years it served in the Grava family’s large household both as a bread platter and as a cherished reminder of their wedding in their homeland. The plate was donated to the “Latvians Abroad” museum by Rūdolfs and Irma’s children, Artūrs Grava and Edīte Zariņa.

Whenever my mother baked bread, the entire house smelled wonderful (Mārīte Krūze)

Mārite Krūze (USA) tells the story of her mother, Valentīne Upats (née Macāns, born in Rēzekne in 1924), and her bread baking.

My mother, Valentīne Upats, recalled how she began baking rye bread during her retirement years. Her bread became very popular in our New Jersey congregation. She baked with great joy and generously shared her bread with others.

The well-known Visvaldis Dzenis even wanted to purchase a special mixing machine to make kneading easier and to be able to produce a larger quantity of bread, but my mother refused. It was important to her to knead the dough herself—to do it properly and to feel the dough with her own fingers. She also had a bit of arthritis in her fingers, and this activity served as good exercise for them.

My mother believed she had received the recipe from a relative in Latvia, and later adapted it to suit herself and the ingredients available in the United States.

Whenever my mother baked bread, the entire house smelled wonderful for two days! I remember that once the loaves were finally baked, my mother and father would sit down at the table and immediately enjoy the fresh, warm bread. My father always received the first loaf. His task was to slice the bread evenly so that delicious buttered sandwiches could be prepared for the church luncheon table. For this purpose, he had purchased a special slicing device.

It was always important to my mother to find high-quality rye flour. She became acquainted with a baker who milled his own rye. My mother spent an entire day with him, discussing the sourdough starter, the dough composition, and other details. Her bread was baked in a wood-fired oven—and this was the loaf she was most proud of. The baker honored her by selling “Valija’s Latvian Rye Bread” at the market that summer.

We tried baking rye bread together, but it seems I never quite acquired the skill… Perhaps one day I will try again to bake this delicious bread, though I already know it will never receive the same admiration as my mother’s bread.

“Lett’s Bake” sourdough

The Latvians Abroad museum met Mareks Nēgels in 2015 at the Toronto Latvian centre – he was baking “Lett’s Bake” sourdough.

Bread treasured as a symbol of home (Vilhelms Griķis)

Vilhelms Griķis’ butter container, in which he kept symbols of home, taken from Latvia during the refugee journeys of the Second World War: rye bread, ears of grain, and santims (coins). Such orange bakelite butter/fat containers were issued to soldiers in the German army.

A master baker from Latvia (Kārlis Atars)

Documents of master baker Kārlis Atars from the collection of the museum “Latvians Abroad”.
Before the Second World War, Kārlis owned a bakery on Avotu Street in Riga. After the war, while living in a displaced persons camp in Schleswig, Germany, he worked at a bakery run by the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA), baking bread for refugees. After immigrating to Canada and settling in the city of London, Kārlis opened his own bakery, “Riga Rye”, which operated until 1980, when he retired and moved to Toronto.

Alma’s kneading trough (Alma Upesleja)

This kneading trough was made by Kārlis Upesleja (1902–1989) for his wife Alma (1906–2002) after their arrival in the United States, so that she could continue baking Latvian bread even while living in exile. Alma baked rye bread for her family and also for the Latvian community in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Their daughter Anna Vējiņa (1932–2015) inherited the trough and continued her mother’s role—baking rye bread. In memory of Anna, the Milwaukee congregation’s newsletter states: “We thank God for Anna’s service both on the parish council, in the Daugavas Vanagi, at the Latvian House, and in the Credit Association. The bread she baked brought blessings to countless Latvians!”
The linen towel, with the monogram AU (Alma Upesleja), was most likely brought from Latvia on her refugee journey. The towel was used to cover the dough while it was rising. Alma also used a wooden paddle for baking, to mix the starter with water and flour.
The kneading trough, towel and paddle were donated to the “Latvians Abroad” museum by Vita Kākulis.

Butter, a slice of tomato, onion, and a little dill (Aivars Stūris)

Aivars has been baking sourdough bread for many years, having taken over the tradition from his father when he retired. Today, Aivars bakes bread for himself and his family, as well as for American friends and nearby Latvian communities, including Garezers and the Grand Rapids Latvian retirees’ association.