Anyone moving to a foreign country, even if that country is pretty familiar, is bound to miss some things from home. We are attached to the creature comforts of our existence, and few things relate to our existence like food. Food is more than sustenance; it’s part of our cultural and personal identity. Acceptable, readily available food items are essential to pulling off living any amount of time abroad, especially with kids.
I had a teammate who didn’t enjoy being in Europe. That’s tough when all the most important races in your sport are abroad. He would pack a huge bottle of Heinz ketchup in his duffle each trip and ceremoniously pull it out with a bit of pomp and circumstance at team meals. Ketchup. I agreed with him that Heinz is the best ketchup in the world, and still would. When ketchup was not as prevalent nor voluminous as a gratis condiment across Europe, for me, ketchup was still a pretty easy thing to manage with the sub-par substitutes for a few months. Not for Dan. But to each his own. And to be even fairer, when we were paying .50€ a packet for too-sweet, not-vinegary-enough ketchup at McDonald’s on the Brenner pass, or when the crispy yellow pommes frites came out with the Wiener schnitzel dinner in Germany, Dan’s ear-to-ear grin as he pulled his massive bottle of Heinz from his jacket, was not only justified, it was at least a minor source of envy for the rest of us, to his immense delight.
Since then, American trends have proliferated here such that fast food places have free ketchup pumps now, and I can buy Heinz at will in any Finnish grocery store. Heinz is in the fridge. Not so much in the 1990s though. I think for Dan, the ritual was more an affirmation of the superior place from whence he came, manifested in ketchup ritual. I think we all have at least a bit of that impulse in us when in foreign places. Their customs are weird, not our own. To prove it, I brought puree'd tomatoes 4000 miles because your purees all suck.
On this extended stint in Finland, that trait first manifested itself in me with coffee. I knew from prior trips here that it was coming, but as we committed to the longer haul of staying through a Corona stabilization, then the kid's school year, I figured I’d find my coffee here eventually.
No country drinks more coffee per capita than Finland, and they know what they like. And I don’t like it. It is a very strong—like head-ache-inducing strong—acidic, light- to medium- roast coffee that is the norm. It leaves a residue in the back of your throat that I think boosts the sales of chewing gum here. I’m finding more diverse coffees served in restaurants and even gas stations, than trips here years ago, but you tend to expect the sour coffee still unless you brewed it yourself. I’ve found the hotter it is, the easier it goes down. The coffees I like, I drink black, but I’ve learned that milk and cream take the edge off Finnish coffee, so when in doubt, I add those. There’s no getting around the jitters and headache though. I don’t know if it’s genetic, but if it is, I missed a chromosome somewhere.
So my Heinz ketchup bottle might’ve been a large bag of Duluth Coffee Company Guatemalan, or at least a large bag of Caribou Coffee’s signature roast, had we known for sure we were staying a while when we made the trip over. Then again, had we known, I’d have arrived with a wider array of shoes that would’ve supplanted the coffee for space in my bags. I found a local roaster that has a couple of roasts I like, but at roughly $30+/lb., it’s not practical. I’ve thus made due with Italian coffees like Segafredo and Lavazza, that land here in dark or espresso roasts only, not the rich, aromatic medium roasts for which Italian drip coffee is famous. It feels like if you’re not into the acidic light- and medium- roasts of Finland, the only sensible alternative for grocery store buyers is dark roasts from abroad. The end result is: I could really go for a rich, smooth, true Italian medium-roast coffee. But again, it’s not a deal-breaker, obviously. About as critical as ketchup. Ok, maybe a little more critical than that. I'm surviving.
I would also really dig a good chicken burrito right about now, with a fresh salsa. The stuff that makes a great, or even a good chicken burrito, just isn't here. American pop food culture delivers these burritos almost at will these days. Here, you’re left with really, just massive limitations on good Tex Mex raw materials. I’d be happy, for example, with a relatively milk-toast Qdoba or Chipotle burrito from any American mall, but would really delight in something from the old Taco Stand or Taqueria Los Jalapenos circa the late 1990’s in Bend, Oregon—two of the best Mexican food places I’ve been exposed to. Imagine if I’d spent any time in the southwest!
Finland is not known for its grand cuisine. In fact Finland’s reputation is for bland food—freshwater fish and potatoes. While my jones for Mexican fare is deep and real, I have to say that across the board, I’ve really adapted fine to Finnish food, and a city the size of Jyväskylä does pretty well for hitting the high points in the modern food choice world. It's not as bland in modern context as its reputation.
A pre-Covid experience might have yielded a fairer interpretation of the restaurant scene, but I think we've gotten the fair gist. In some sectors, Jyväskylä beats Duluth. It certainly does in the quality and prevalence of Thai restaurants. Chinese is pretty much equal or better, as is Indian fare, which manifests itself in several really good Nepalese establishments. Duluth has a good Indian place but Jyväskylä has several Nepalese places worth visiting that are more adventurous and savory in their genuineness; at least what seems genuine having never been on the Indian sub-continent. The Nepalese places are good though. Middle East kebab, dönner, and falafel—some of my absolute favorite foods on earth—are also prevalent and pretty good here, while they remain mostly non-existent in Duluth. Immigrants from places like Iran, Iraq, and Syria have peppered downtown with restaurants that are often good middle-eastern fare hidden behind a pizzeria front for practical survival. I haven’t tried enough of them as the kids wrinkle their noses at the idea, but I catch whiffs walking by and they leave a fine impression.
Where Jyväskylä trails Duluth is in hip fusion and fresh, locavore cuisine that is kind of the rage in hipster and emerging hipster American locales like Duluth. I’ve not found a genuine, homegrown, farm-to-table place here like the Duluth Grill restaurants, New Scenic Café, or Northern Waters Smokehouse, all of which are marvelous and missed. Finnish-wide chains—so, small chains essentially—seem to have emerged as financially necessary to weather the forces of a country of only 5 million people and their restaurant landscape. My gut says distribution and cost dynamics make it very hard to compete and stay in business otherwise.
Where the scale tips for me though on food in Finland is the in the quality and cost of groceries. Groceries are generally better quality for the prices here, especially Finnish foods. I was expecting grocery shopping to be way more expensive than it actually is, and the quality overall seems better--tastier. It stands to reason. Consider Finland has nothing on par with Kraft or Pillsbury or any giant food processors. Their food production is bound to be better just due to scale. You see European-wide Nestle, on the other hand, but right next to it you see a competitor from Finland or Sweden that probably does it a little better for a few cents more.
Produce is generally very good here as well. Finnish produce is essentially local, like anything grown in Minnesota would be in a Duluth grocery store. That’s admittedly not much, especially in winter, but Finnish strawberries in the summer are untouchable compared to any others I've eaten, and farm fresh peas in the pods are a national summer treasure. What Finland can't deliver, we get really good, affordable produce from southern Europe though, which is relatively close. We are about as far from Spain as Duluth is from Mexico. Some organic items are common, but it doesn’t seem to be as big a deal as it is in the US. Still, I buy organic whenever I have a choice. Overall, groceries don't feel expensive here, at least not as much as I was expecting.
Eating out, on the other hand, is pretty expensive. From fast food all the way up to formal dining, the gap in cost between making dinner at home and going out to eat is immediately noticeable compared to life in Duluth.
Here’s a snapshot, translated to dollars from Euros and into American units, from a mini grocery run yesterday:
· 16 oz. bag of tortilla chips: $2.04
· 12 oz. jar Old El Paso salsa: $2.77 (these are in actual 12.oz jars like in the US chip aisle)
· 1lb. 5 oz. vat of butter/olive-oil spread: $4.46 (this is LOT of butter, Finns use a lot of this)
· 10 oz. bag of shredded cheddar cheese: $2.04
· 2 large (.55 kg) Pink Lady apples: $4.75
· 12 oz. frozen cheese pizza: $3.57
· ¼ gal. milk: $1.44 (1 liter—2 pints)
· 1lb. bag Segafredo coffee: $5.38
· Fresh loaf of artisan style bread: $4.05
By comparison, here’s some per-person costs of choices eating on the fly or sitting down for a lunch while shopping yesterday. Remember though, no gratuity system here:
· Hessburger (Finnish chain) Kerros Hamburger meal (basically Big Mac, medium fries and drink): $11.86
· Koti Pizza (Finnish chain) kebob roll (fast food Gyro roll): $11.98
· FaFa’s (chain) Chicken/feta/veggie pita: $14.40
· Thai Street Food (small Finnish chain) pad thai: $18.75
· Hurtti Pizza (independent local) take out 2-topping pizza: $12.00
· Haiku (Scandinavian chain) weekend sushi buffet: $19.23 (weekday lunch buffet is $14.40)
· Taikuri Restaurant (Finnish chain, mall, informal sit-down with waiter) burger and fries: $20.32
· Harald Restaurant (Finnish Norwegian/viking-themed chain, formal sit down) black angus steak, ala carte (no sides): 5 oz.--$32.54 / 10 oz.--$45.50
You see just how much more eating out dings your pocket book compared to the cost and quality of Duluth non-chain restaurants. We eat out less compared to when we are in Duluth, mostly opting for Hurtti Pizza takeout when we do. When we lived downtown, Mimmu and I often shared a weekday lunch date entrée at Thai Street Food, which was about $14 total for week day lunch special. We went to Harald once for a celebratory family dinner, and even though it was great—I had Reindeer sausage and Moose roast with au gratin potatoes— we gulped after we paid the bill…
School lunch is free across Finland, so Taavi and Iita bring down the cost of our family food economics considerably, eating lunch at school Monday through Friday. And it's quite good! So good, that hamburgers and French fries are such a novelty the kids buzz about it. School is NOT to be missed on those days. Most days, it’s Finnish food; soups, hot dishes, fish, potatoes, rye bread, and fresh vegetables and fruit, all made in the kitchen of the school. How great is that? Did I mention it’s free? For absolutely everyone. Nobody packs school lunches. It's not even a thing.
The value of what we eat daily here seems good. I always lose weight without trying to when I come here. I can’t scientifically say why, but I like being 10 lbs. lighter for the same or less money, and enjoying my food more in general, with no focus on losing weight. I've wondered if its corn syrup. It's not allowed here.
Recently, the college track team I coach back home hit the road for the first overnight outdoor track meet trip in over a year. We stay our fair share of nights in budget hotels as a college team. While the nature of travel and hotel stays is very different now than just a little over a year ago, the coaches sent out some instructions on the Covid team hotel rules, and subsequently, how to approach the free breakfast. It opened comparative brain traces for me.
The thought of a Super 8 complimentary breakfast kind of made me cringe after a year of living in Finland. At a Super 8 or similar hotel, I usually make a waffle, and the mix is usually hit or miss, but the waffles are at least kind of freshly made when you make them yourself. But as I thought about all the different budget hotel breakfasts I’ve engaged as a college coach the last 15 years, I wouldn’t know where to find in Finland, the breakfast items typical in one of them. The cellophane-wrapped honey buns and pop tarts; the yellow omelette-like-thingies with oozing orange cheese sauce in the middle; the cheap, preserved white breads that have to be toasted to be edible; even the mealy, tasteless, red-delicious or granny smith apples; they don’t exist here in grocery stores. They might in some stores somewhere, but not in the major Finnish stores we shop at. The only thing I think I could replicate from one of those breakfasts is the banana.
Finland has plenty of processed food, don’t get me wrong. But those really, really cheap items we’ve become accustomed to in America aren’t here. Yet. Maybe that’s 10 lbs. right there?
Bread and dairy are obviously at a higher standard and fresher than what we’re used to in Duluth too. I get a good loaf of bread nearly every day and it’s not terribly expensive. I pay about ¾ what I’d pay for a fresh loaf of bread at home, like a LaBrea “kit” bread I’d buy from Mount Royal Fine Foods. It appears to be baked in large production supermarket bakery ovens on wheels, similar like those at Mount Royal, but the number of options and the doughs that turn into the bread are a big difference. In other words, fresh bread options are way more expected here, as is the quality of the final product.
Finland succeeds at baked goodies. House visits for coffee are a huge cultural norm here, and you have to have “kahvi leipää”—coffee bread—of some sort, to present to your guests with the coffee. Coffee alone is not sufficient. Seriously. I think if someone invited a Finn over for coffee and just served them coffee, most Finns would leave thinking that was odd, and maybe even that they hadn’t actually been welcome in the first place. I also need the baked goodies just to cut through the acid and fight the caffeine head ache. So, kahvi leipää is a serious deal, and it’s one of my favorite things about Finland.
The kahvi leipää case at Mestarin Herkku, my favorite grocery store.
Finnish donuts made from cardamom dough, are called “munkki." I think they are better than anything similar in the American donut family. They have a chewiness texture, and deeper flavor that is unmatched by any American donut I've had. But there’s a trend here of charging an arm and a leg for American style raised donuts, which simply aren't nearly as good. You can get an awesome Finnish munkki at any supermarket or gas station for about a Euro. But Dunkin Donuts-style, raised, glazed, white flour donuts are the current “it” thing here and they have donut places making a killing on an inferior product, marketed well by someone—Arnold’s specifically. For a typical donut we’re accustomed to paying about $15 for box of a dozen Dunkin or Krispy Kreem. They’re charging 3.50€ a piece for them here. That’s like $4/donut! $48 for a dozen. How well would Dunkin Donuts do in the US if their basic donuts suddenly jumped to $4 each? But maybe that’s the “healthy” difference? Nobody can afford a dozen Arnold’s donuts, but Arnold’s still survives. Taavi and Iita always ask if we can get Arnold’s donuts when we’re shopping at Seppä. I’ve come to flat out refuse out of principle. Marketing works, people...
I can’t write this without at least a shoutout to the "korvapuusti" (bottom middle with the white pieces of sugar on top in the picture above). A hard outer layer of the same cardamom dough, baked in the oven with cinnamon butter rolled into the layers in the middle, these might be my favorite sweet food ever. Along with the munkkis, it represents just two of numerous, wonderful baked goods that make Finland an awesome eating experience, particularly with coffee. These are just tips of the iceberg of what we’ll lose when we have coffee back home in the states.
Finns love their “herkuja”—treats. I like snacks too. It’s my downfall as a human. This might be where that missing coffee gene got reintroduced. I will miss Finnish chips and candy in America. The chocolate and candy in general are a bit more expensive but not nearly as sweet across the board, which is why I think I like them so much better. I don’t eat much candy in America, but I do here. I find their savory snacks to be much more nuanced and flavorful too.
Yogurt here is also amazing. It’s so good, it should fall under treats. I eat way more yogurt here simply because it’s so good. It’s indicative of Finland’s dairy standard overall. Of course you can get good dairy products in America, but the median quality here for every day supermarket dairy isn’t even close.
If you combine Finnish dairy prowess with their love of herkkuja, you end up at "jäätelö--ice cream. I think if you want to size up Finland by things you can eat, ice cream is a total success for the nation. Finns eat lots of ice cream, probably because its awesome. I am not an ice cream person in America, but like yogurt, the ice cream here is just so good, I don’t know how anyone couldn’t be into it. Here, it seems everyone is. It’s not a mystery if you just pick anything ice cream here and give it a shot, as long as it isn’t black… And it’s pretty cheap for the basics.
Let’s start with the “box” of ice cream. This is the norm for things like birthdays and parties, or just for guests coming over for coffee, especially for coffee in the summer. It's just a brick of plain old goodness. The sides of the box fold away and you can cut slices of ice cream to go on a plate or with a piece of cake or just to eat on its own. It’s a great system that circumvents the struggle with an ice cream scoop. Sliced ice cream. An 18 oz. block of Valio Pingviini ice cream costs about $2. It’s the best $2 you’ll spend in Finland.
Slice of ice cream anyone? Serving Finnish ice cream tutorial: 1. Open side flaps
2. Lift lid and flatten to counter top
3. Slice the ice cream
4. Fold it all back together and put back in the freezer
The range of ice cream bar choices at your average grocery store here is astounding. Finland per capita must have the largest grocery store ice cream sections of anywhere in the world. While Ingman contributes to this immense section of every grocery store, and Ben and Jerry's has shown up in limited doses, Pingviini has the most presence. To me Pingviini is THE Finnish ice cream. Except for salmiakki flavored ice cream bars, I have never met a Pingviini ice cream product I didn’t like. And they are really pretty affordable and portioned to keep you from overdoing it. Which means you can have one every day! Especially if you’re 10 lbs. lighter…
21 freezer cases for ice cream. Pretty typical for a Finnish grocery store. That whole row is ice cream...
They say you are what you eat. Finland has a lot of good things to eat, but it's got plenty of its oddities too, like mämmi, that don’t cross cultures all that gracefully. But Finland has been ranked the happiest country again in 2020 for the umpteenmillionth time.
Say what you will about social welfare, free education, and free health care. I think it's actually the ice cream.