“I’m finally good enough to make my grandmother’s dish. And now my hand won’t let me.” — Why a 73-year-old potter from Minnesota is letting her last Christmas butter dishes go at a special price, before her kiln goes cold for good.

On the morning of December 13, Dagny Carlstrom sets her kitchen table the way her grandmother did. Two white candles. A plate of golden saffron buns. Coffee. And in the middle, a white butter dish with a little red reindeer on the lid.

She made that dish herself. She has made about 3,100 of them since 1979. Every one of them for Christmas.

Dagny is 73. She lives in Lindstrom, Minnesota, a town of 4,500 people that calls itself “America’s Little Sweden.” Her grandmother Elin came over from Värmland in 1912 with one trunk and four Christmas things she would not leave behind.

“My grandmother had four Christmas things on her table. Four is enough. I just kept them.”

Seven pieces on the kitchen steps

And there was a butter dish. White, with a small red knob. Elin bought it in Stockholm in 1931, on her only trip back home, and carried it all the way to Minnesota on her lap. For almost fifty years it came out every December.

In 1978, after Dagny’s mother died, the family packed up the old house. Dagny carried the box with the butter dish herself. On the kitchen steps, it slipped out of the box. It broke into seven pieces.

She glued it back together. It still sits on the shelf above her potter’s wheel today. You can see every crack. That fall, Dagny signed up for a pottery class at the community college.

“I made the first one to replace hers. I suppose I’ve spent forty-six years trying to get it right.”

The garage where 3,100 Christmas mornings began

Her studio is the old garage behind the house. It smells of wet clay and coffee. The kiln ticks like a kitchen clock when it heats up. In winter, the snow piles up to the window sill.

Every year since 1979, Dagny has made her butter dishes here for the Christmas market at her Lutheran church. Always on the first Saturday in December. People line up before the doors open. Some families have bought one every year for three generations.

One butter dish takes her about five hours, spread over a whole week: shaping the dome, letting it dry, pressing on every little figure by hand, then two firings in the kiln. That is why she never made more than about seventy a winter.

“You press the little gingerbread man too hard, he cracks in the kiln. Too soft, he falls off. Forty-six years, and I still hold my breath.”

Four Christmas things from her grandmother’s table

Dagny has only ever made four designs. Each one comes from the house she grew up in.

• Tomte Gnomes: In Sweden, the tomte watches over the house. Elin’s little wooden tomte has stood in the family home since 1912.
• Reindeer: The stitched reindeer is copied from Elin’s embroidered Christmas tablecloth.
• Gingerbread: For the thin gingerbread cookies Dagny’s mother baked every December 13, on Lucia morning.
• Mushroom: On Swedish Christmas cards, the red toadstool means good luck. With its green tray, it is the one dish that stays on the table long after the tree is gone.

What 46 winters taught her about a butter dish

People who order one of Dagny’s dishes usually write the same thing first: “It’s bigger than I thought.” She smiles when she hears that. It was never an accident.

• “The Two-Stick Tray”: The tray is about 7½ inches long, so two sticks of butter fit side by side. “My grandmother fed eleven people at Christmas,” Dagny says. “One stick never lasted past the eggs.”
• “The Bell Dome”: The tall dome covers the butter completely. It can stay on the table all morning, soft and ready, with the crumbs kept out.
• “The Raised-Relief Method”: The reindeer, the gnomes and the gingerbread men are raised. You can feel them with your finger. “Paint wears off after a few years of washing,” Dagny says. “A relief you can still feel when your grandkids set the table.”
• “The Kiln-Sealed Glaze”: Every dish is glazed inside and out. Butter can’t soak into the clay, and warm water is enough to wipe it clean.

The morning she ruined three reindeer in a row

What Dagny will miss most are the early mornings in the studio. The snow at the window. The tick of the kiln. The first dish of the season coming out of the fire.

In the spring of 2025, her right hand began to shake. The doctor called it a tremor. It will not go away. She can still shape a dish. But the little reindeer antlers, the gnome hats and the white icing lines on the gingerbread men need a perfectly steady hand.

“Last week I ruined three reindeer in a row. The antlers came out looking like an earthquake chart.”

This fall she fired the kiln for the last time. There is no one to take over. 186 butter dishes are left, all four designs together. In January, the kiln will be sold.

“A butter dish that never sees butter is just a sad little hat”

For 46 years, Dagny sold every dish at the church market for $25. All of the money went to the town food shelf.

For her last 186, she could ask three times as much. Everyone would understand. She won’t.

“I don’t want them in a glass cabinet. I want butter in them and crumbs around them on Christmas morning.”

She wants her last dishes on real tables this December — tables where a family sits down together, the way Elin’s did.

Dagny doesn’t use a computer. Her granddaughter Kirsten, a nurse in St. Paul, kept getting calls from people in Iowa and Wisconsin who couldn’t make it to the market. So Kirsten set up the page where you can order now. She takes the photos on Dagny’s kitchen table and packs every box herself.

“Kirsten does the computer. I do the mud. That’s the deal.”

What families say about Dagny’s butter dishes

• ★★★★★

  “Much bigger than I expected. Two sticks of butter fit side by side, which is exactly what we need when all eleven of us are home. The reindeer is raised, you can feel every stitch.”

  Barbara H., Mankato, MN
• ★★★★★

  “My grandmother was Norwegian and had little gnomes everywhere at Christmas. When I took the lid off this one, I had to sit down for a minute. It’s on our table every morning now.”

  Janet O., Decorah, IA
• ★★★★★

  “I bought the mushroom one for my daughter’s first Christmas in her own house. It came very well packed. She sent me a picture of it on her table the same day.”

  Linda K., Eau Claire, WI

Three questions people ask before ordering

Where can I buy one of Dagny’s butter dishes?

Only through this page. Dagny’s butter dishes are not sold on Amazon, Temu or in any store.

How long will they be available?

Only while supplies last. The kiln has been fired for the last time, and there are 186 dishes left across all four designs. Once a design is gone, it is gone for good.

What if it’s not right for me?

You have 30 days to try it at home. If you are not happy, just send a short email and you will get your money back. No questions, no hassle.

More from people who set the table with one

• ★★★★★

  “Good heavy ceramic, not that thin stuff. The butter stays soft on the counter all day and the lid keeps the crumbs out.”

  Carol S., Rochester, MN
• ★★★★★

  “I ordered the gingerbread one and then went back for the reindeer. Two dishes on a long table look wonderful. My husband says we have a butter collection now.”

  Margaret D., Fargo, ND
• ★★★★★

  “Gave it to my mother, who is 84. She remembered a dish just like it from her own grandmother’s kitchen. Worth every penny for that phone call alone.”

  Patricia N., Green Bay, WI