A long time ago and far away in the dark forests of Varmland in Sweden, a land of summer days ringed in an aura of gold and the winters blow to icy white, where mushrooms grow wild and shy brown bears gorge on lingonberries, a famous writer once lived.

Her name was Selma Lagerlöf and my husband, Jerry, is closely related to her; his great-grandfather changed the “ö” to “oe” when he immigrated to the U.S. around 1900.

Selma wrote twenty-eight novels, many about social misfits, and in 1909 she was the first woman to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, the most prestigious literary award in the world.

It was a big deal because nine men had won before her. Sixteen years later, the second woman won. To date, there have been 103 men compared to 18 women. So it is still a big deal.

Selma owned Mårbacka, a grand estate in Sweden, with cows, horses, dogs, and a boy lucky enough to one day arrive at the front steps of her large and stately home.

She had a cook, a gardener, a farmhand, and a chauffeur to drive her in her cobalt blue Volvo. She had two long-term paramours. Both were women.

In 1906 she published her bestseller, “The Wonderful Adventures of Nils,” a children’s book, translated into 30 languages, and taught to all school children in Sweden.

It is about a boy, a stinker, really, learning life’s lessons on the back of Martin, a snowy white goose, as they fly above Sweden. The boy’s name is Nils Holgersson.

Selma’s Nils Holgersson, in his yellow breeches, blue coat, and red cap, astride Martin, became a revered symbol in all of Sweden, and was even printed on its currency and postage stamps.

And then the most astonishing thing happened: Selma received a knock on her front door and was handed a letter, by special delivery, from the social welfare department:

Dear Miss Lagerlöf,

A boy is in desperate need of a loving home.

His name is Nils Holgersson, the very same as your most famous literary character. He is only five.

And this real-life Nils Holgersson is being terribly, horribly, abused by his own father.

Would you, Miss Lagerlöf, consider taking him in?

Selma said yes.

A few days later, the brilliant woman from the welfare department delivered Nils Holgersson to Mårbacka where he healed and he thrived as he scampered up trees, over fences, explored attics, barns and hay lofts.

He helped tend the animals and stood on a step stool in the kitchen alongside the cook. Selma taught him to play whist and chess; they read stories together in the evenings.

Nils sat next to Selma in the backseat of her cobalt blue Volvo, as her chauffeur took them on scenic drives throughout the Swedish countryside.

The years went on, as they always do, and Nils left home and moved to Chicago, worked as a carpenter, and raised a son he named Nils. He and Nils travelled across the ocean to see Selma in the summers until she passed away in 1940.

We met Nils’s granddaughter ten years ago. Susan Holgersson is an artist. Nils on the back of his goose is her logo. “Selma Lagerlöf saved my grandfather’s life,” she told us, many times.

Selma’s Mårbacka is just as she left it in 1940 and is a museum open to the public. Jerry and I have gone many times. Susan has too. Selma’s cobalt blue Volvo is sometimes on display.

There is a café on the grounds of Mårbacka (pronounced Moor-backa) where they serve a lovely cookie, perfect with coffee. I emailed Irene Henriksson, the curator, hoping for the recipe.

“Oh wow, Jerry,” I said as I read her reply, “Irene says the cookie is Selma’s very own recipe. It calls for antler salt. Two teaspoons.”

“What?”

“Antler salt. Two teaspoons.”

Jerry googled it.

“It comes from the distillation of deer antlers,” he read.

“Oh.”

He did some more digging.

“Or you can substitute baking powder.”

I substituted baking powder, and the cookies were divine. If you make them, and I hope you do, Jerry loves them with vanilla ice cream.

You can find Selma’s novels through most libraries; they are enchanting. Two of my favorites are “The Emperor of Portugallia” and “The Outcast."

The Gift Box in Geneva often carries “The Wonderful Adventures of Nils." We have bought them there for our granddaughters.

And since many Scandinavians live in Batavia, Geneva, St. Charles, and South Elgin, I would love to hear from anyone who has baked with antler salt!

Selma’s Lovely Cookies

(Converted from metric)

Makes about 50 small cookies

1 and 1/3 sticks of butter, room temperature

13.5 tablespoons sugar

13.5 tablespoons whole wheat flour

1-1/4 cups oatmeal

2 tsp antler salt or baking powder 😊

2 tsp vanilla

Preheat oven to 320 degrees.

Mix all the ingredients in a bowl (I used my food processor).

Roll into 50 large marble sized balls and flatten a bit on a parchment paper lined cookie sheet two inches apart – they will spread.

Bake in the center rack of the oven until the cookies turn a nice light brown color, about 30 minutes… But my oven runs hot – I checked in 20. They were done and perfectly crisp.

Cool on a wire rack.