Talkkuna

« Talkkuna Blueberry Pie »

I watched Jarkko dump a bunch of powdery stuff into his yogurt one morning to make it into a gloopy sort of porridge. Curious, I asked to try it and it tasted a bit like a cold, creamy, malty cereal. When he told me what it was, I hadn't ever heard of it, hadn't ever tried it even though I likely passed by it on the shelves in the grocery hundreds of times. A week or two later I noticed a wee new book, Pieni talkkunakirja, all about talkkuna so I bought a copy to read more about this mysterious and reasonably tasty new foodstuff. The book is short but it's beautifully put together and has quite a lot of factoids about talkkuna along with some recipes containing talkkuna. When I started poking around with google to find more information about talkkuna, I found that the author keeps a blog and is currently working on a book on Finnish fleamarkets that I'm looking forward to reading [He also has a very interesting collection of Finnish pulp fiction book covers]. The book has more information about talkkuna than most people would ever need or want to know, but I'll share a bit of the highlights, slightly condensed and paraphrased, since there appears to be virtually nothing in English available on the net about it. :)

Talkkuna came to Finland in the 1700's but it had been eaten in similar forms long before then. It is believed that it arrived in Finland from the Slavs and reached Karelia and Vepsä first. (Interesting that it arrived in Eastern Finland first, but is a traditional food in the Southwestern part of the country.) Talkkuna was often used as a snack food and dessert. There's a similar food Estonia called "kama" that's served cold. It isn't a seasonal food but it is eaten quite often in Autumn with the harvest and in winter. Urbanization has largely destroyed much of the talkkuna tradition as the city dwellers have either forgotten about it or shun the dry, strange flour from the countryside. Many of the people from the larger generation [baby boomers?] also have not introduced their children to talkkuna. The Helsinki University Savo Guild have been known to have a talkkuna celebration, "Talakkunat", in late November in past years dating back to 1887.

Talkkuna consists of cooked ground oats or barley which sometimes includes ground peas or other flours. Everywhere save Northern Finland talkkuna is used in various foods and there is quite a bit of variation in the grains used from region to region. In Northern Karelia talkkuna is made with barley and in Häme and Southwestern Finland (i.e. Turku) the base of talkkuna is oat flour. In the South Talkkuna can also be found to contain rye and wheat. Traditionally, the tasty and nutritional ingredients are peas and beans which are ground and mixed with the other flours. Talkkuna is traditional in Häme, Southwest Finland and Satakunta (i.e. Pori and Rauma). In Central Finland, the talkkuna is dried in the oven which makes for a darker and stronger tasting flour. In the Savo, Kainu and Oulu regions, talkkuna is typically called 'puurotalkkuna'. It is usually made from barley and coarsely ground. It is not consumed plain, instead it is boiled in water to make a porridge then served with butter or lard.

Talkkuna is known elsewhere in the world, too. The word "talkkuna" is from Indo-European roots. In Afghanistan the word in Pashto is "talxan", in Mongolian it is "t'alxx" and in Russian it is "tolokno" which is the likely origin for the word in Finnish. In Scotland, it is called "brose", a cold porridge of oats that can also be mixed with peas and greens such as nettles, shallots and cabbage. Scotland's cold porridge is an ingredient in a drink called Atholl Brose, which is a mixture of oatmeal, honey and whisky. It can also contain cream. The drink was named due to the Earl of Athol having beaten an enemy by secretly filling a well with the alcoholic concoction. I've never seen this whisky so I've certainly got to try it now. :)

There are a variety of different talkkuna flours in the grocery depending on which grocery you shop at. I've only tried two of them and both of them must be from central Finland given their strong, smokey flavour. I decided to try making a blueberry pie from the Pieni talkkunakirja and find that talkkuna has a very appealing taste in baked goods. This recipe was easy, quick and quite tasty though I think it might have tasted better with a less aggressive talkkuna. My only complaint was that the crust was a wee bit on the dry side which might be solved by adding a bit of milk. I also added talkkuna to the blueberry filling as partly for taste and thickening properties. Vanilla ice cream also takes the pie from good to excellent.

Talkkuna-Blueberry Pie

Makes: 1 pie, approx. 12 servings
Time: about 1 hour including baking
Source: Pieni talkkunakirja

Crust:

• 125g or 1 stick butter
• 0,75dl or 1/3 cup sugar
• 2 eggs
• about 0,5 dl or 1/4 cup whole milk (optional)
• 2dl or 3/4 cup wheat or all-purpose flour
• 0,75dl or 1/3 cup talkkuna flour
• 0,75dl or 1/3 cup potato flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder

Filling:

• 1 litre or 4 cups blueberries ( or about 4 200g packages of frozen blueberries )
• about 2-4 tablespoons potato flour or corn starch (dissolved in a little bit of water or blueberry juice)
• about 3 tablespoons talkkuna (optional)
• about 1dl or 1/2 cup sugar

Topping:

• Vanilla ice cream or sauce

1. Heat oven to 200C/395F. Mix filling ingredients together in a bowl and set aside. If using frozen berries, allow to thaw and adjust the amount of thickener if there's a lot of excess juice
2. Cream butter and sugar together. Add eggs one at a time, beating until fluffy. Add milk.
3. Mix dry ingredients together and gradually add to the butter mixture. It will form a firm dough-like ball. Place dough in ~ 27cm/11in tart/pie pan and press evenly over the bottom and sides. Pour filling over the crust and bake for about 20-30 minutes until filling is set and crust is brown.
4. Cool and serve with vanilla ice cream or sauce.

permalink Ω 31 July 2005, Helsinki

Victim of Love

« This poor lycra-clad bastard is about to get married but only after he dresses up and sells sexy photos of his lycra-clad self to giggling onlookers having a beer. He is a polttarit victim. »

I'm not really sure why every time that I mention to people that Jarkko and I had the best wedding ever when we eloped to Las Vegas they either giggle or have a look of disbelief as though only drunk celebs, drunk white trash or drunk white trash celebs got married in Las Vegas. I have three older sisters and two of them had frightfully expensive weddings which included the usual mind-numbing details such as dresses, catering, etc. and, by the time the wedding day came, they were too tired and stressed to really enjoy it. Some do the big wedding out of vanity, some do it out of tradition, but I've never quite understood the value of spending $60k or more on one event whose main purpose is to impress the mother-in-law, immediate family and those attending.

Eloping to Vegas was fun. I remain rather disappointed that Jarkko drew the line at my vision of going to the drive-thru chapel service in a classic convertible with Tom Jones in the back singing Sex Bomb, but saving the whole circus that is the modern wedding was worth eloping to the blinking neon oasis for under $1000. We drove through the southwest for a week afterwards for our honeymoon of sorts before heading to a conference we attended every year. I don't think I've entirely forgiven him for commenting that 'If you've seen one sandstone formation you've seen them all.' somewhere in the middle of Arizona as I had already seen the southwest but thought that it might be fun to show him around and considered leaving him on the side of the highway enroute to the nearest spa hotel. Somehow, he managed to remain inside the vehicle and live. We even recently celebrated our fourth anniversary. :)

A bonus of elopement is no bridal shower and no stag or hen parties or, as they're called in Finland, polttarit. It seems to be a very popular form of torture for Finnish guys to dress up the groom-to-be in something really rather unflattering and parade them around downtown for maximum humiliation while trying to unload something onto people with enough pity to buy up what they have and get them off the hook for the evening. One guy a while back tried to sell me a rather unimpressive selection of porn tapes while wearing a sombrero and a cape. It was pretty hilarious but I still think it's an odd form of cruelty to make a guy do this to prove he's willing to walk down the aisle. I suppose, too, it's just a good excuse to get drunk, wear lycra or women's underwear, amuse the adults and scare small children, but friends should not let friends sell photos of themselves wearing a lycra leotard in a cool breeze for pocket change to random beer drinking strangers on terraces as someday, when the guy runs for political office, the picture will resurface and it will appear in the paper with the word "shrinkage?" underneath.

Las Vegas is a lot more fun where the only ones wearing lycra are the Elvis impersonators. Elope before it's too late! :)

permalink Ω 29 July 2005, Helsinki

Escape to the forest

« A rubbish bin that looks more like a 'feminine hygiene' product than a place to put trash. »

The downside of taking a few days off is returning home and having to reenter reality, do laundry and go back to work far sooner than you'd like. Also finding an already sub-functional email application and inbox brought to a mostly non-functional state due to spam is less appealing than, say, driving through the European equivalent of the Minnesota boonies. We went to Naantali, wandered around Moominworld, watched some poor guy get thrown into the harbour at a ludicrously early hour only a few meters away from the President, sat in a Turkish bath, had our fat rubbed and plumped and drove to a few of the more oddball sights in Finland. My threshold for entertainment is decidedly low but not really getting out much can do that to a person. I'll illustrate just how low when the photos come back from developing sometime next week.

One small bonus of the IAAF World Championships and the ensuing mass of tourists in town over the next few weeks is a cool "Walk the Green" map and legend [both pdf] and an updated version of the Let's Explore Nature in Helsinki book. Those of us not lucky enough to rent out our homes for 2,000 euro per week will need to escape into the forest and avoid downtown until it's all over.

permalink Ω 29 July 2005, Helsinki

Goin' to Moominworld

« The head and cats of Tarja Halonen sit in front of Kiasma while Mannerheim looks on from his horse. »

In an attempt to go on holiday without actually leaving the country I am, in fact, going to Moominworld for a few days. "Oh, my kids are too old for that place now", said one of my colleagues. When asked how old they are he said that they are aged 5 and 7. Perfect. I should fit right in with the toddlers. They better have a killer gift shop. :)

permalink Ω 25 July 2005, Helsinki

Swedish Merkins

« Three big balls on a tower back behind Kiasma and the train station. »

Today I found that someone made a gorgeous blue 'prince' cake using the princess cake recipe and instructions I put together. I'm just so excited over seeing that someone found it useful that I feel like a dork. :)

My Hästens bed porn arrived with the post yesterday. I watched the very nicely filmed and narrated tour through the process of making one of their fine beds, but they kept showing wholesome workers playing with blobs of curly horse hair that were reminiscent of giant rectangular-shaped merkins. I'm not sure if I'm cured of my desire for one of their mattresses though.

We finally got around to trying out the new Valion baari in the Kamppi metro terminal and made the mistake of sharing only one korvapuusti shake as it disappeared a bit too quickly. The sandwiches were also very well done. The shop fueled my desire for a set of Arabia's new KoKo dishes since all of their products are served on white and blue KoKo dishes emblazoned with the 'kukkamaito' design.

And the odd book find of the month is...The Helsinki Chronicles of Dr. Louise C. Love And Mr. P.. Looking for more information about the book revealed that the author is a retired surgeon living in Southern California who, for some reason, wrote this book and dedicated it to an animal shelter and Finland. I'm not sure I get the connection but maybe $22 to charity wouldn't be such a bad expense.

Seal Beach, Calif., June 17,2005 The Seal Beach Animal Care Center (SBACC) is proud and honored to host a signing launching the publication of Arthur Axelrad's long awaited book, The Helsinki Chronicles of Dr. Louise C. Love and Mr. P., Six Adventures in Finland's Capital, written under his nom de Mac, Arthur M. Alexander.

Enriched by over ninety photographs, with a frontispiece by SBACC's Nancy Eugenio, and extensive notes by Olen Sukkela Poika and appendixes, the book is a set of six mystery adventures taking place in Helsinki, each giving the reader a mini-tour of this beautiful Nordic capital. Although Dr. Love is the ostensible detective, the real brains belong to her four-legged companion Mr. P. Mr. Axelrad has spent the last four years on this project and the book is intended as a gift to Finland, with royalties dedicated to the Finlandia Foundation"

Finally, the daily moment of zen for expats in need of reasons not to go home; Americans are Dumb, 3 reasons each and every day. Depressing reading.

permalink Ω 21 July 2005, Helsinki

Prune Mafia

« Otava eyes a pair of swans and considers swimming over to them until one of them hisses at him. He pouted for the rest of the day. »

What is it about my freak magnetism that I seem to especially attract crazy, nasty women of the over-40 set who feel the need to give me some sort of sermon about how cruel it is of me to have such a big dog anywhere but on a farm out in the country while out enjoying a relaxing walk and minding my own business? The usual ignorance about large dogs often grates on my nerves but these people with the idea that big dogs are more energetic than, say, a psychotic Jack Russell or German Shepherd are really starting to try my patience since obviously they've never had a big dog and possibly never had a dog at all.

Why people feel the need and the confidence to pontificate on how big dogs don't belong anywhere but the countryside is beyond me, but the next time some prune faced old hag comes up to me and starts to give me shit, I think I'm just going to come unhinged. Maybe there's an old pissy bitch network that will natter about how one of their operatives got bitched out by some crazy woman and lay off for a while or move their operation to another part of the city. Oh, and bitches, my dog's name is not Beethoven.

Having gotten that out of my system....The Helsinki Parks Department who also maintain all the dog parks have rather curiously added a dog park map [pdf] that is nice for getting a general big picture of where the parks are in the city but there's no information to accompany the dots which makes it not very useful for much else. If I get time, I may take the pictures and info from the dog park guide for area I and maybe make an image map to make it useful in some way. It would be interesting to see the locations of the dog parks mapped with the distribution of dog ownership in Helsinki, too.

The toxic algae season has arrived as well. Rajasaari is already on yellow alert so dog owners should check the warning map daily since it is deadly toxic to dogs. No more swimming for a while. :(

The Helsingin Sanomat had an article in the last week or so about doggie day care coming to Helsinki. I think it was ~20eur/day or so and likely only for the small dogs but I think it's a great service that will likely become very popular. The päivähoito is called Rakkaat Haukut and the day care is on Lauttasaari as well as a number of canine obedience courses that I've been considering for Otava. And, WETNÖZ, a dog specialty company, has a cool new toy called the 'spring roll' as well as some new very pretty looking bowls and scoops.

permalink Ω 19 July 2005, Helsinki

Drummer Man

« Juha Kiwano, the drummer man. »

Downtown living has a few constant features like drunks and rubbish, but there are also the musicians who play on street corners who you start to feel a sort of fondness for since they are a familiar part of the landscape. I've never chatted with the street musicians like I have with most of the local drunks in the park, who all know Otava and love to visit with him if they are able to stand, but I have enjoyed their music which might be more telling, really. Some play only during the warmer months but there are those who are out in every season, no matter the weather, who comprise the core of the street music scene.

There's 'opera guy' on Aleksi by Pohjola who always dresses in slightly stuffy clothing that you might expect to see on your grandparents. He plays opera tunes on a boom box while belting out the top opera hits in Finnish in a deep baritone/tenor voice. I've heard him out in -25C weather singing away without his voice changing even a tiny bit. I've not seen the talented guy with the electric guitar and disfigured face, from what I have guessed to be due to a severe burn[s], this year but I always wanted to know what his story was. His music was quite good though I never could linger very long as I had a sense of shame when I kept catching my eyes drifting back to his face and the uncomfortable feeling that comes when looking at someone who has suffered some sort of great misfortune.

The Peruvians play in Three Smith's Square almost all year these days instead of just in the summertime. They dress up in the full headdress and costume and seem to do a pretty decent business for themselves. It's just like Zamfir, master of the pan flute, if only he looked like a Peruvian. Once, while waiting for a friend, I was listening to them when I heard an American woman go past me saying very loudly to her husband, "They're Peruvian, not American, honey!" Had I been feeling more pedantic at the time, I would have caught up to them and informed them that Peruvians are, in fact, American Indians. South American Indians.

And then there is 'the drummer guy' who camps out near the Atheneum in warm weather or in doorways on Aleksi in cold weather. I found a copy of Matkaan, the VR rail newspaper, on the bus home last week that had a feature on a few street musicians around Finland and one of them was 'the drummer guy', a.k.a Juha Kiwano. I suspect that Kiwano is a nom de plume since Kiwano isn't a usual Finnish surname and kiwano is also the horned melon hailing from the more arid parts of Southern Africa. I've heard this guy play plenty of times and suggesting that his music has 'African rhythm' is probably stretching reality quite a bit, but what he lacks in rhythm he makes up for in persistence as he's always there, clinking and banging away. I'm not sure why, but I'm always happy to hear him downtown, even from a few blocks away. Voima had a short blurb about him last January that I had Jarkko translate for me since it was a bit more challenging than usual;

Juha Kiwano, a Vantaa resident, warming up the African rhythm culture over the winter, plays percussion instruments at the corner of the Ateneum. His fourth season ended in December 2003. Kiwano tells that the playing stemmed from long-term unemployment, loneliness, and the desire to do something.

"Ten years ago I was looking at street musicians and thought that I wouldn't be doing that. Now, later, I have thought about it from many perspectives that I need to play. I must get to play.", says Kiwano.

There is no particular tune or plan to the three hour long (including break) sessions.

"It comes from deep within", he says and sighs deeply.

A street musician who has been playing in Helsinki for years, and who wants to stay anonymous, remembers the beginning of the downtown percussionist Kiwano. Over time, starting from playing glass bottles and a homemade metallic string instrument, both his skills and arsenal have developed. In the collection of the African-rhythm-adoring musician, carried on a cart, are in addition to the usual drums and cymbals also kettle lids, wooden sticks, and a wide variety of self-made instruments.

"I try to find which ones make a nice sound. Finding them is a nice feeling,", Kiwano says.

permalink Ω 18 July 2005, Helsinki

June Pole

« A small gallery from raising the Juhannussalko (Midsummer Pole) on Midsummer Eve. »

I went to watch the raising of the Midsummer pole this year since I was curious, hadn't ever seen a 'June pole' and it seemed like a harmless excuse to wander downtown for a few hours. It was, as expected, a rather low-key event where a few men in traditional costumes brought the Midsummer pole, raised it and then danced a bit with similarly clad women (the Katrilli folk dancers) with little fanfare. There was no sex or debauchery which might have made for a bit more lively event, but one must conserve such excesses for Juhannus. One very annoying feature was that, in spite of the crowd and the obvious event happening in the center of the Esplanade, people just kept walking along as though walking on a stage in mid-performance were perfectly normal. I'm not sure why these rude rubbernecking interlopers couldn't just walk around, instead of through, the event but it made me wish desperately for a taser. Maybe the organisers need to put up barriers with a notice in a few different languages that thru traffic should go around the performance instead.

The tradition of the "June" pole is rather hard to be specific about since it has a lot of regional variation. The Midsummer pole definitely arrived in Finland from Sweden and, as far as I can tell, is a feature of Juhannus only in the Swedish-speaking areas. Finnish poles appear to be a bit less ornate than their Swedish counterparts as well (a nice watercolour diagram illustrates the elements of the Swedish Midsummer pole).

Perhaps the best known Midsummer tradition is the decorating and raising of the Midsummer pole (maypole). It's origins have divided scientists. One side sees the pole as a remnant from heathen fertility rites and that it can be traced back to prehistoric times and sacrifice feasts. The other opinion is that the Midsummer pole came to the north with Hansa merchants in the Middle Ages and that it is related to the maypoles of the Continent.

The oldest reference to Midsummer poles on Åland is on a early 19th century village map from Hammarland. The oldest depictions of poles are by the Swede Nils Månsson Mandelgren, who was on an expedition to Åland in 1871 to examine the local history of art.

Details of the Midsummer Pole

To make a Midsummer pole a high and straight spar is felled, preferrably in winter and not during sap time. Crossbars are attached, usually three to five if single or two or three if crossed. In the beginning the Midsummer poles were green, covered completely with flowers and leaves. Eventually the Midsummer poles were painted white and garlands wrapped on the spars and crossbars. Sometimes a spiral is painted on the spar instead of hanging leaf garland.

The decorations vary from village to village and from year to year. They have been interpreted in many ways, and the author Valdemar Nyman complained about the interpretations too often being about industry or the weather. The decorations could also be the result of the availability of material or of friendly competition between villages. The pole has also been associated with shipping, as it was common to decorate the masts with leaves. A Midsummer pole can be seen as a ship's mast rised on land.

At the top of the Midsummer poles there is usually a small wooden man, the "fäktargubbe". He wears headgear and is dressed in a white shirt, a tie and a waistcoat or some kind of uniform. He spins and waves his arms in the wind symbolizing diligence and work resulting in a good crop. In some districts a truck replaces the "fäktargubbe".

A streamer is attached below the wooden man. It has had different designs during the course of time. The colours have varied and sometimes the year or some other text has been painted on it. Since Åland got it's own flag in 1954 most streamers have had the colours - blue, yellow and red. In the archipelago it has been common to hoist beautiful cloth and flags of different countries on the spar. On Kökar the girls never wore their best scarves as the boys would take them and hoist their scarves up the pole.

Small boats are placed on shorter crossbars and attached so that they rotate in the wind if properly rigged and if the Midsummer pole stands perpendicularly. The boats vary from detailed miniatures to pieces of wood with a metal sail. They are said to symbolize Åland shipping.

String decorated with leaves is hung between the crossbars. Usually aspen leaves are tied to cotton string, but in some districts leaves from other trees, lily of the valley leaves and flowers from the Swedish whitebeam are used as well. The garlands are made on Midsummer's Eve, either earlier in the day or just before the Midsummer pole is rised. They are hung to form a pattern of an hourglass or of squares, depending on the amount of crossbars.

The Midsummer pole is taken down well in advance before Midsummer's Eve and fixed up. Old crowns are taken down and the leaves from the previous year are cut off. The Midsummer pole captain is in charge of the work and makes sure everything is ready before the Midsummer pole is raised. He is legally responsible in the event of an accident.

permalink Ω 17 July 2005, Helsinki

Pieplant

« Mascarpone cheesecake with rhubarb glaze topped with chocolate covered strawberries looking a wee bit like a bird. »

Since moving to Finland, I hadn't before noticed the numerous recipes and foods made with rhubarb. It seems like everywhere I look these days there is rhubarb pie or something else containing the vegetable declared a fruit in 1947 by the US Customs court based on its primary use in desserts and baked goods. I had never tried rhubarb before as I had always assumed that it was a regional treat in the US which I incorrectly associated with the South. The Dictionary of American Regional English, volume IV, contains both rhubarb and pieplant (no space) [which is said to be German or American depending on what source you read]. The distribution map clearly shows that pieplant, thus rhubarb, is known and used mostly in the north.

rhubarb n Usu |'ruba(r)b|
1929 AmSp 5.126 ME, "Rhubub" or "pie plant" was rhubarb. a.k.a. apple cabbage, apple (of) peru, elephant's ear, garden sauce, go-quick plant, pieplant, pie stem, sour sticks, wine plant, raspberry pieplant. (pieplant first citation in 1838.)

It doesn't grow well in hot climates which would explain why I can't recall much rhubarb growing in St. Louis and the subsequent lack of pies. It grows well in the Northern US and Canada with Utica, Michigan proclaimed as the Rhubarb capital of the world. I was surprised to find that June 9th is National Strawberry-Rhubarb Pie Day. I wonder who is in charge of making up these wacky national days.

Rhubarb apparently grows very well in Finland, too, which explains the multitude of uses for it in spite of it being a very unlikely food plant. Jams, juices and pies seem to be the most popular ways to enjoy rhubarb. It is the harbinger of summer when the stalks are ready for harvest in late May/early June. The leaves, as well as the stalks or petioles, are poisonous due to the oxalic acid content. The leaves have a higher concentration but you'd have to eat a few pounds of them before achieving a lethal dose though you'd likely vomit long before that might happen.

Oxalic acid is a strong acid and is what is responsible for the extreme sour/tart flavour associated with rhubarb. A number of people mentioned that foods with rhubarb must contain milk or be served with milk or cream to temper the acid which binds to the calcium to make calcium oxalate which isn't all that good for you either. Oxalic acid is also strong enough to corrode tooth enamel so it might be good to brush your teeth after eating rhubarb to limit the damage. It's not often mentioned that rhubarb's primary use for hundreds of years was using the roots for their laxative effect and magical cure for dysentery. Rhubarb doesn't appear to have been very popular in pies until sometime in the early 1800s which is about when sugar became a more attainable commodity for the average home. Maybe it was the cowpie plant originally before being shortened to pieplant. :)

So what's the allure of a stringy, sour, poisonous, corrosive, laxative plant? I'm not really sure just yet, but in 1995, two Yale scientists discovered that oxalic acid, found in rhubarb, helped neutralize CFC's. I suppose that's great news if you live near a Monsanto toxic waste dump or have a housemate who uses way too much hairspray. You can also clean your aluminum pots with juice from the leftover stalks. It's a pie filling and a pot cleaner, too! It's use as a floorwax has yet to be determined.

I made both a strawberry-rhubarb cobbler and a cheesecake with a rhubarb glaze and, while I found the taste of the rhubarb quite good, I'm not convinced that the plant is such a laudable foodstuff. My main problem with rhubarb is that it's like pink celery and I'm not keen on celery since the texture is mealy and stringy even though the taste is mostly agreeable. I wasn't very happy with the cobbler because of the extreme fibery nature of the fruit. It was sweet, tangy and buttery from the topping but the texture was all wrong, slimy even. Everyone seemed to like it, but I will wait for blueberry season to make another cobbler that tastes right.

The cheesecake, however, was a perfect application of rhubarb separated from its stringy support structure which is, perhaps, the best way to enjoy rhubarb. I had some excellent Italian mascarpone cheese from the Gran Delicato deli (Kalevankatu 34) that I needed to use and rhubarb is still plentiful so I found a recipe on Epicurious that looked good and was pleasantly surprised with the results. I know quite a few Finnish recipes suggest Hovi or other 'tuorejuusto' for cheesecakes which really should be avoided since Philadelphia and mascarpone are widely available here and Hovi is not a smooth cheese with a completely different texture and taste.

When I make this cheesecake again sometime I will reduce the number of eggs to 4 since 6 seemed a bit excessive, even for the amount of cheese, and the cake rose quite high before sinking after it cooled. I'm fairly certain that the recipe for the filling could be halved rather easily while still resulting in a good cake. The glaze should really be a gelée prepared with gelatin even though I thought the sauce was quite excellent poured over the sliced cake. The gelée would make for a nicer overall presentation I think. It's easy to make but just don't ask how many grams of fat are in a slice as if you have to ask, you probably don't want to know the answer. :)

Mascarpone Cheese with Rhubarb Glaze and Chocolate-covered Strawberries

Makes:12+ servings
Time: about 1 hour prep
Source: Bon Appétit, April 2002

Crust

• 1 1/4 cups graham cracker crumbs or 150g of ruis or plain digestive crumbs
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 stick or 60g unsalted butter, melted
• 1/2-1 teaspoon cocoa (optional)
• 0,5 dl ground hazelnuts (optional)

Filling

• 16oz or 500g Philadelphia cream cheese, room temperature
• 1 cup or 2,25 dl sugar
• 16oz or 500g mascarpone cheese, room temperature
• 2 tablespoons all purpose flour
• 6 eggs
• 1 1/2 tablespoons vanilla extract or vanilla sugar
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• 2 teaspoons grated lemon peel
• Pinch of salt
• 3/4 cup or 1,75 dl sour cream/fraiche/kermaviili

Glaze

• 1,5 pounds or ~700g fresh rhubarb cut into small pieces
• 8 strawberries, hulled, halved (possibly use frozen mansikkasose since it's cheaper than late-season strawberries and leave until after straining the rhubarb before adding to juice)
• 3/4 cup or 1,75 dl sugar
• 2/3 cup or 1,50 dl water
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 2-4 tablespoons cornstarch dissolved in 3 tablespoons of water (if you want a gel instead of a thickened sauce, use 3-4 gelatin sheets softened in water and squeezed of excess water or 2 packets gelatin powder instead)

Chocolate-covered strawberries

• 6 oz/170 g bittersweet (not unsweetened) or semisweet chocolate, chopped
• 12 large strawberries

1. For crust: Preheat oven to 325°F/160°C. Grease 9-inch/23cm round springform pan with 2.75 in/7cm high sides with butter. Mix crumbs, sugar, and cinnamon (cocoa and hazelnuts if using) in medium bowl. Add butter and stir to blend. Press mixture evenly onto bottom (not sides) of pan. Bake until crust is set, about 10 minutes. Cool completely. Maintain oven temperature.
2. For filling: Using electric mixer, beat cream cheese and sugar in large bowl until smooth. Add mascarpone and beat until smooth. Mix in flour. Beat in eggs 1 at a time. Mix in vanilla, lemon juice, lemon peel, and salt. Pour filling into pan.
3. Bake cheesecake until puffed around edges and center moves slightly when pan is gently shaken (center may fall and crack), about 1 hour. Turn oven off; leave cake in oven with door closed 1 hour. Transfer cake to rack and cool completely. Stir sour cream until smooth; spread atop cake. Refrigerate cake overnight.
4. For glaze: Combine rhubarb, strawberries, sugar, 2/3 cup water, and lemon juice in large saucepan. Bring to boil, stirring until sugar dissolves. Reduce heat and simmer until rhubarb is tender, about 9 minutes. Remove from heat; let cool 10 minutes. Pour mixture through strainer set over bowl, pressing on solids to extract liquid. Return liquid to same saucepan; bring to simmer over medium heat. Whisk cornstarch or moisten gelatin; add to liquid in saucepan; whisk constantly until mixture boils and thickens, about 6 minutes. Allow the mixture to reduce for 10 minutes. Pour glaze into small bowl; chill until cold, about 2 hours. Spread glaze over cheesecake. Refrigerate cheesecake for at least 4 hours and up to 1 day.
5. For chocolate-covered strawberries: Line small baking sheet with waxed paper. Stir chocolate in top of double boiler set over simmering water until smooth. Remove chocolate from over water. Dip strawberries halfway into melted chocolate. Gently shake off excess chocolate; place on prepared sheet. Chill until chocolate is set, about 30 minutes and up to 6 hours. Place strawberries around top edge of cake. Serve.

permalink Ω 15 July 2005, Helsinki

Nepp It

« Playing neppis in the sand next to the sea and a few other photos of our neppis afternoon a few weeks ago. »

One of the guys at work suggested playing neppis a few weeks ago and pointed to the neppis web site to explain to the uninitiated. After reading through the pages I was more confused than when I began. I thought that if I was reading correctly, neppis was a pastime for the mid-30's set of Finnish guys who never quite got over their Hot Wheels as a kid and thus continued to play with them while making it a somewhat official sport in an attempt to make it respectable. I found that I was mostly correct.

Neppis is played in the sand next to the water with regulation toy cars that are pushed around the track by flicking them with a finger. There are hazards on the course to make it more challenging and, of course, beer to make it more amusing. I thought it was a fun, quirky sort of Finnish pastime of a certain part of the 'tweener' generation [tail end of the boomers but not quite gen x]. The serious players will be at Hietsu on Saturday at 14.00 which I'm not sure will be more or less entertaining than playing with my semi-inebriated colleagues. :)

permalink Ω 13 July 2005, Helsinki

From Arabia to Pluto

« A page from a book so filled with errors that I'm sure it was filed under comedy in the bookshops. »

I don't remember where I found this picture nor could I find it again, but I straightened it up a bit as I think it's worth a good chuckle. I'd love to know the title and publisher of the book. You have to wonder who made the shit up about Arabia and Iittala:

...when the Finns started marketing their dinnerware outside Scandinavia, they named it after other countries--such as Arabia, or Ittala[sic]--in hopes that exotic locations would impart a mystique to their efforts. The ploy worked so well that today people all over the world own beautifully designed crystal which they think came from an OPEC country.

I nearly spilled my coffee laughing at that. Even the smallest amount of research might have prevented such a glaring error. I suppose I should thank the publishers as even though I didn't know how Arabia got the name I could spot that as a steaming pile of misinformation pretty quickly and went to look it up on the net. The model's name is spelled incorrectly and the address doesn't exist [I don't think street numbers pass 60 in downtown actually]. And Finnska? Don't they mean Finland-Swedish?

Judging by the width of the tie [isn't it fun how ties are almost as reliable as carbon dating? :)], the 1971 Marimekko "Mansikkavuoret" print and the 1960's Ultima Thule glassware, I'd put the photo/book somewhere firmly in the 1980s or later and, judging by the English, I'd almost bet good money that it was written by an American. The whole thing is one giant, glaring error that's both funny and rather sad. [I am sad to say that I have been informed that the page was taken from a book filed under humor. Can anyone confirm or deny that it is from Scandinavian Humor and Other Myths by John Louis Anderson published in 1986 in Minnesota? At least the tie and the English didn't steer me too far from wrong. Still....would people living outside of Finland get most of the jokes? :) ] So, here's today's completely useless factoid in both Finnish and English; How did the Arabia brand ceramics get their name?

October 1874, the factory is seen to completion on a plot called Arabia. Arabia, the name of the plot, was taken as the name for the factory and afterwards, it became the name for the entire city district. Arabia's next-door neighbours include Intiankatu [India Street], Koreankatu [Korea Street], and Kaanaan katu [Canaan Street]: when the plots and streets in the then summer villa area were named, it was felt they were very far from the centre of Helsinki - that is how they got their exotic, romanticized names.

Lokakuussa 1874 tehdas valmistuu Arabia-nimiselle huvilatontille Helsingin Vanhankaupungin lahdelle. Arabian tehtaan valikoima laajeni nopeasti astioista uuneihin ja saniteettiposliiniin.

Tontin nimi Arabia otettiin tehtaan nimeksi, ja sittemmin se on tullut koko kaupunginosan nimeksi. Arabian naapurissa sijaitsevat mm. Intiankatu, Koreankatu ja Kaanaan niityt. Kun silloisen huvila-alueen tontteja ja katuja nimettiin, tuntuivat ne sijaitsevan kovin kaukana Helsingin keskustasta. Siksi ne myös saivat eksoottisia, romantisoituja nimiä.

So, instead of Timbuktu, Finns named the boonies, now thought of as the suburbs, Arabia. Surely, this must mean we have to rename Vantaa as Pluto. :)

permalink Ω 12 July 2005, Helsinki

Dogfish

« In a lattice of light and shade, Otava wades around looking for his tennis ball near the shore of Rajasaari just across from the Prime Minister's residence. »

Otava turned out to have only a mild bit of 'tonsilitis' after we got him into see a vet who wasn't on holiday :) He has been taking antibiotics and 10ml of human cough syrup with every meal. Now he is all perky and is constantly begging us to take him swimming, so today I think we'll take him up to Tervasaari and I'll confuse him by swimming with him as it's hot here with no A/C relief. Aside from sweating and taking the dog swimming there just ain't much going on.

For those who missed the thrill of yet another giant cruise ship disgorging a hundred or so mac geeks onto the city, the macmania 'blog' has a few articles and photos from the Baltic cruise they took last week. If these guys are the Macworld editors, the excrutiatingly dull writing might explain why the magazine really isn't worth buying these days, but it does mention Finland and Helsinki at least once.

And for those not afraid of Flash, Mari suggested Baarikierros / Pub crawl [warning: requires a pop-up too] for all your bar hopping needs in Kallio. The pubs are colour coded for price and the descriptions are pretty amusing as well. :)

permalink Ω 10 July 2005, Helsinki

Boring

« Siikaranta, Salakoski, Finland. A very, very boring postcard from 1972. »

Jarkko found a collection of mostly Nordic boring postcards this morning that has quite a range of boringness. I really need to scan in my collection of boring Finnish postcards as I noticed that they have a lot in common with the boring Swedish postcards. What is it about the water towers on postcards in the Nordics as they hold a more revered place on postcards than cathedrals or state buildings. :)

permalink Ω 10 July 2005, Helsinki

Mattress Porn

« Concrete barriers that look like a sea dragon in the North Port of Helsinki bathed in the bright glare of summertime. »

Otava seems to have come down with a cold in the past few days as he coughs occasionally, seems worn out and has a gunky nose. It's damned hard to nearly impossible to find a vet in the office in July which strikes me as utterly bizarre. What, one vet couldn't stay in the clinic through the month of July to see all the unfortunate pets who happen to get sick while the entire country is on holiday? It could be a case of Bordetella, a.k.a. kennel cough, which he had an immunization shot for but, like the flu shot for humans, it's not 100% effective in warding off all strains of the virus. This means, of course, that one of the dogs in the puppy park has been contagious with an oblivious owner. There was a bout of nasal ticks going around earlier this year which we were fortunately warned about early enough but, damn, why are people so stupid to bring their pets to common spaces when they shouldn't? From the aggressive dogs who try to eat Otava to bitches in season being brought to the park and various ailments being spread, I'm starting to wonder if we have a particularly stupid population of pet owners near our park. Once we have confirmed that he does have Bordetella, I think we'll post a very strongly worded notice at the park and keep him away from the park, again, for few weeks. Fucking hell, I'm pissed off.

Jarkko caught a bit of the home improvement bug after seeing a few friends' new homes recently and we suffered a bit of domestic shopping on Sunday hunting for a new bed since neither of us sleep very well and my back has gone straight to hell in the past few years. After looking through a few shops we arrived at one where, as soon as I walked in, I knew I wanted one of their beds. We tried a few of them and my conviction was complete. I have always had a 'gift' for choosing the most expensive object when given a selection with a wide range in prices which I affectionately call "SPENDAR", but nothing could have quite prepared me for the sticker shock on the prices of these beds. I had never heard of Hästens before Sunday but they are apparently legendary around here as hand-made Swedish beds. The 2000T, the top of the line non-motorized bed, will set you back a mere 17000 euro in the 180x210cm configuration. The not-quite-so-assrapingly-priced Superia model is only 4000 euro. Uh. Now, I'm willing to concede that we spend a third of our lives on this thing we call a mattress, but once I've given them an arm and maybe a leg or two, I won't be needing such a large bed anymore. I can't wait to receive the DVD and catalogue that I requested from the website as I'm counting on watching pure, unadulterated mattress porn for a few hours to hopefully put me off the idea. I must admit that the vision of the mattress industry teaming up with the porn industry to make mattress porn videos to vividly illustrate the virtues of boxed springs amuses me quite much. At least it would be honest advertising that got straight to the point. :)

And, geez, people are sure in a huff about Chirac's stupid quip about food...

You can't trust people who cook as badly as that [UK]. After Finland, it's the country with the worst food.

Having come from the collision of the possibly two most bland cuisines in the world, British and German, everything on the planet looks more interesting and edible than much of what is traditional in either country. With the exception of the still appealing haggis pakoras somewhere in Scotland, traditional British food is simple, hearty, not very frilly food. German and Finnish food are no different, really. Everything I know about French food I learned from Julia Child and French food seems to be the exact opposite of simple and hearty. But, either way, who cares if Jaques Chirac is being a typical snob about French food. There is an old saying about French cars that might apply to the food as well. If it isn't drowning in a sauce, it ain't French. :)

The French, they copy no one, then again, no one copies the French.

permalink Ω 6 July 2005, Helsinki

The Pinecone

« The käpykakku made with 4 sponge cake layers, raspberry jam, chocolate cream and thin semi-circles of marzipan dusted with cocoa and garnished with almond halves. »

It may come as a relief to those who suffer my 'cookery' that I managed to find a cake that has put me off the idea of baking another cake for a while. No, I just ordered the fucking cookie book and will plan on making loads of lewd cookies loaded with aphrodisiacs for the rest of the summer. Maybe the cupcake periodic table if I feel inspired. The cake that gone and done me in was the nefarious käpykakku.

Due to my particularly masochistic streak and my strange determination to like things like herring and marzipan due to their ubiquity in the Nordic taste palate, I got the crazy idea to try making the cake that looked much like a lumpy turd in bakery cases around town. I figured that somehow I could improve on the cake while making it look less like a turd and more like a pinecone. My ambition seemed simple and harmless enough, but this cake finally made me realise that I definitely dislike marzipan, but marzipan and chocolate is gagtastic. Now I also know why I never liked Hershey bars with almonds as a kid. I moved to a part of the planet that should really erect a shrine to the almond as it's in so many different dishes. Surely, this is proof that I'm a glutton for self-punishment. One of these days I'm going to have to find out why the almond and not the walnut, hazelnut or pecan. Speaking of marzipan, Jarkko found a copy of Jenny Åkerström's Prinsessornas Kokbok in Finnish yesterday at the big book sale in Vammala which contains three different bizarrely complex princess cakes. After some poking around with google, it would appear that this year is the centennial of Princess Astrid's birth and that the current form of the princess cake is a combination of the three cakes made not by Åkerström, but a baker in Stockholm. I'll likely put a scan of the recipes [1.8mb pdf, Finnish] and more of the background on the princess cake recipe entry. I'm still considering doing a blueberry moomin version of the cake when blueberries come in season. The world needs more blue foods, even if they are made with almonds.

The pinecone cake has about as many varieties as there are cakes and the provenence of the creation might be Tampere sometime in the 1990s, but there are enough sponge cake layer cakes covered with marzipan around that it could have come from anywhere. My question is, why a pinecone? I found a recipe for käpykakku in the cookbook, Isoäidin Keittiössä, but aside from a lovely picture of the outside that was decidely an improvement over the usual store cake, there wasn't a picture of what it should look like on the inside [and nothing on google]. So, before beginning, I went and bought a store bakery cake as a test control and also to get an idea of how to put it together. The store cake was bland, a bit greasy, with a soggy sponge and a heavy chocolate marzipan aftertaste. I made three different versions of the cake, hoping to make it better and without marzipan.

1. cake 1: sponge cake, strawberry purée filling, and meringue topping made look like a pinecone with a spoon and dusted with cocoa. This was a lovely light cake but the meringue was far, far too sweet.
2. cake 2: sponge cake, chocolate filling, raspberry purée, and thin semicircles of marzipan and almonds arranged on top to look like a pinecone. This cake looked good but the chocolate filling was far, FAR too chocolately which overwhelmed the light sponge and raspberry while the marzipan began to melt either because of the humidity or because of the strong cocoa filling underneath. Much of this recipe was from Isoäidin Keittiössä and I think the recipe was pretty far off from being reliable. The chocolate filling remains below, but that's about all I kept. With less cocoa, it'll be good.
3. cake3: chocolate sponge cake, strawberry purée/whipped cream/mascarpone or rahka filling and meringue topping with less sugar than cake 1. This tasted great as the light chocolate sponge didn't overwhelm the strawberry flavour and the meringue wasn't quite so sweet. Note: Meringue + humid weather = sticky goo. :)

So, out of the three cakes, I liked the third cake the best as the light chocolate sponge and the fruity sweetness of the filling complemented each other without being overwhelming and the meringue wasn't so heavy and almondy. I thought about mixing plain almond paste with some of the purée and spreading it on the sponge cake as a base layer before adding the filling to keep the almond flavour in the cake but I left it out due to my dislike of almond and chocolate on the previous cake. I can highly recommend this combination.

The basic form of käpykakku is 4 layers of sponge moistened with fruit juice or purée or jam, filled with chocolate cream or fruity cream and topped with marzipan or meringue. I won't be making it again anytime soon, but the Isoäidin Keittiössä cookbook claims that it's one of their most popular recipes so, given that there is very little information about the cake on the net, maybe someone else will. :)

Käpykakku / Pinecone cake

Preparation steps and approximate time

1. Prepare filling, either the chocolate cream or the fruit filling. chill. (15-30 mins)
2. Make sponge cake. (45 mins)
3. Cut sponge into pinecone shape, add filling, and chill.(20 mins)
4. Make meringue or prepare marzipan. (10-20 mins)
5. Cover cake with meringue or marzipan. (15-30 mins)
6. Chill and serve. (1-2 hours)

Chocolate Filling:

time: about 25 minutes
source: Isoäidin Keittiössä

• 4 gelatin sheets
• 2 eggs
• 2 dl whole milk
• 4 tablespoons cocoa (should really be more like 1 tablespoon)
• 4 tablespoons sugar
• 3 dl or 1 1/4 cups whipping cream, cold

1. Soften the gelatin in cold water for about 10 minutes. Place cream container in a bowl of ice and chill the bowl in which you plan to whip the cream by putting it into the refrigerator/freezer.
2. Stir the eggs in a saucepan until the yolks are broken. Add milk, cocoa and sugar. Bring the mixture to a simmer while stirring. Do not allow the mixture to boil or it will become lumpy. Squeeze the water from the gelatin sheets and stir into the hot mixture.
3. Cool the gelatin mixture by placing the saucepan in the sink filled with cold water. Whip the cream to soft peaks and fold it into the cooled gelatin mixture. Place in refrigerator while you prepare the sponge cake.

OR

Fruit Filling:

• 250g rahka, excess liquid drained from top or 250g mascarpone
• 2 dl or 1 cup strawberry/raspberry/puolukka purée
• 3 dl or 1.25 cups cold whipping cream
• fine or confectioners' sugar

1. Whip cream on medium high speed to soft peaks, add sugar to taste. Set aside
2. Whip rahka/mascarpone and add purée until well mixed. Fold in fresh fruit if desired.
3. Gently fold whipped cream and rahka/mascarpone together until well mixed. chill for an hour or two until firm.

Sponge Cake:

makes: two 8- or 9-inch cakes
time: about 45 minutes
source: CI

Sift together

• 1/2 cup or 1,25 dl cake flour
• 1/4 cup or 0,75 dl unbleached all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon table salt
• 1-2 tablespoons cocoa (for chocolate sponge only)

Heat together, cover and set aside

• 3 tablespoons whole milk
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract or vanilla sugar

separate and mix

• 5 eggs room temperature
• 3/4 cup or 1,75 dl granulated sugar

1. Adjust oven rack to lower middle position and heat oven to 350F/175C degrees. Generously grease and flour two or three round 8- or 9-inch cake pans and cover pan bottoms with a round of parchment paper. Whisk flours, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl (or sift onto waxed paper). Heat milk and butter in a small saucepan over low heat until butter melts. Remove from heat and add vanilla; cover and keep warm.
2. Separate three of the eggs, placing whites in bowl of standing mixer fitted with whisk attachment (or large mixing bowl if using hand mixer or whisk) and reserving the 3 yolks plus remaining 2 whole eggs in another mixing bowl. Beat the 3 whites on high speed (or whisk) until whites are foamy. Gradually add 6 tablespoons of the sugar; continue to beat whites to soft, moist peaks. (Do not overbeat.) If using a standing mixer, transfer egg whites to a large bowl and add yolk/whole egg mixture to mixing bowl.
3. Beat yolk/whole egg mixture with remaining 6 tablespoons sugar. Beat on medium-high speed (setting 8 on a KitchenAid) until eggs are very thick and a pale yellow color, about 5 minutes (or 12 minutes by hand). Add beaten eggs to whites.
4. Sprinkle flour mixture over beaten eggs and whites; fold very gently 12 times with a large rubber spatula. Make a well in one side of batter and pour milk mixture into bowl. Continue folding until batter shows no trace of flour, and whites and whole eggs are evenly mixed, about 8 additional strokes.
5. Immediately pour batter into prepared baking pan[s] [makes 9-10dl of batter, so ~3dl per cake layer]; bake until cake tops are light brown and feel firm and spring back when touched, about 16 minutes for 9-inch cake pans and 20 minutes for 8-inch cake pans.
6. Immediately run a knife around pan perimeter to loosen cake. Cover pan with large plate. Using a towel, invert pan and remove pan from cake. Peel off parchment. Re-invert cake from plate onto rack. Repeat with remaining cake[s]. Cover with clean cloth until ready to assemble cake to keep the cake moist. You can use the paper from the cake pans to create your cutting pattern, too.

Topping:

• about 500g natural colour marzipan
• a bit of cocoa powder

OR

Meringue Frosting

**Note: Everything MUST be perfectly dry when making meringue, use a blowdryer on your mixer blades if you must. It's also not recommended during particularly humid days. It will look creamy and soft when it comes out right. Halve the sugar for less sweetness and/or add a bit of melted semi-sweet chocolate at the end to give it a chocolaty taste and a pinecone brown colour if you like.

• 3-4 large egg whites
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar
• 1 1/4 cups or 3 dl granulated sugar
• 1/3 cup or 0,75 dl water

1. Beat egg whites at slow speed in electric mixer until frothy. Add vanilla, cream of tartar and a pinch of salt and beat at medium speed to soft peaks. Raise mixer speed to high and beat whites to stiff, glossy peaks. Turn off mixer.
2. Combine sugar and water in a small saucepan and bring to boil over high heat, constantly and gently swirling pan by the handle. Cover and boil 2 minutes, then cover and boil until a candy thermometer registers 238 degrees (syrup will form soft, gum-like ball when dropped in ice water).
3. With mixer at high speed, pour syrup in thin, steady stream into egg whites. Continue to beat until frosting is cool, 7 to 10 minutes. Apply frosting in heaps to the top of the cake, smooth over the top and sides of the cake with a spatula or frosting knife, and with a spoon, create divots or spikes to give it the pinecone look. Dust lightly with cocoa. Serve.

permalink Ω 3 July 2005, Helsinki