The main reason I journeyed up there this time was to be part of the surprise 30th birthday party of my pal, Paula (she is also a Kemi native). I haven't seen her since my Joensuu days but when I heard that Jani, now her hubby and babydaddy since I saw them last, was organizing such an event I just had to go. Plus it has been a long time since I got out of Helsinki, so the perfect opportunity could not be passed up.
Happy Birthday Paula (and congratulations on a brother or sister for Anni!!!)Although several years have passed since I last saw Jani and Paula, it didn't seem like it. Neither of them have aged (although maybe Jani's sideburns are longer and a bit more distiguished, but that's it) and parenthood hasn't changed them at all. I hope it won't be so long before I see them again.
...Now, people from Lapland are known for their hard-drinking ways, and my pals are no different. For example, here is Jaana explaining to me about their family's fridge (which has been jam-packed with Tarja mummo's delicacies every time I have seen it). Apparently times weren't always so plentiful:
That is a raw makkara (sausage) btw.
Luckily I was in no such state, and fully capable the next morning for my lesson in making Karjalan piirakka (Karelian pies) from the master, Tarja mummo (Granny Tarja). If one described Finnish cuisine, one would HAVE to include Karjalan piirakka. Karelia is the region in which the Finnish national Epic, The Kalevala, is set and is an area of great importance to the Finnish psyche. It is also where I lived when I first moved to Finland, in Joensuu (translation: Mouth of the River).
To make Karelian pies, first you must make the rice pudding. Basically you boil rice in whole milk and butter with a bit of salt until it is soft.
Finns love to eat this porridge for breakfast, especially on Christmas. I, however, cannot stand it. The texture creeps me out.
Next you prepare the dough. All it consists of is water, some salt, a bit of white flour, and mostly rye flour. You mix it up with the end of a rolling pin until it is sticky but holds together.
Then you knead it, sprinkling intermittently with more rye flour, until it no longer sticks.
Do you like my apron?
Next. you divide the dough into four equal portions, and roll each one out into a long snake. You chop off 1-in. segments, roll into a ball, then roll out into a flat oval. Then drop a tablespoonful of the porridge into the middle, fold over the long sides, then crimp the edges with your fingers to close the dough around the porridge.
I still need a bit of practice, but I started to get the hang of it:
Now I can't go on any further without re-telling this story:
One of the first times I was visiting Ajos, well, let's just say I ended up in a state similar to Jaana in the previous video. The next morning I had the worst hangover of my life. As I was sitting at the kitchen table trying to drink some coffee, Tarja mummo and her best pal were spritely making Karelian pies. They coaxed, "Celia, why don't you try to make one?" and to humor them I gave it a try. As I did so, the two of them snickered like kids and when I demanded "What they hell are you two laughing at?!?" I learned of the old wives's tale that each woman fashions her Karelian pies distinctly, and they are said to resemble a certain part of her female anatomy. Leila, the friend, was like "Yeah... mine always have a lot of porridge."
Not exactly what I wanted to know as I was already sturggling to keep from barfing.
Then they get doused in butter... winters are long and hard in these parts, so one must eat accordingly:
Karelian pies are best enjoyed topped with munavoi (mashed hard-boiled eggs and butter) and a glass of cold milk.
It's good thing we made these hearty pies for sustenance, because later in the day, after an arduous journey to Europe's largest candy store and a taxing sauna session, Papa Hurtig was off to fight some Russians:
(deleted...)
That is a raw makkara (sausage) btw.
Luckily I was in no such state, and fully capable the next morning for my lesson in making Karjalan piirakka (Karelian pies) from the master, Tarja mummo (Granny Tarja). If one described Finnish cuisine, one would HAVE to include Karjalan piirakka. Karelia is the region in which the Finnish national Epic, The Kalevala, is set and is an area of great importance to the Finnish psyche. It is also where I lived when I first moved to Finland, in Joensuu (translation: Mouth of the River).
To make Karelian pies, first you must make the rice pudding. Basically you boil rice in whole milk and butter with a bit of salt until it is soft.
Finns love to eat this porridge for breakfast, especially on Christmas. I, however, cannot stand it. The texture creeps me out.
Next you prepare the dough. All it consists of is water, some salt, a bit of white flour, and mostly rye flour. You mix it up with the end of a rolling pin until it is sticky but holds together.
Then you knead it, sprinkling intermittently with more rye flour, until it no longer sticks.
Do you like my apron?
Next. you divide the dough into four equal portions, and roll each one out into a long snake. You chop off 1-in. segments, roll into a ball, then roll out into a flat oval. Then drop a tablespoonful of the porridge into the middle, fold over the long sides, then crimp the edges with your fingers to close the dough around the porridge.
I still need a bit of practice, but I started to get the hang of it:
Now I can't go on any further without re-telling this story:
One of the first times I was visiting Ajos, well, let's just say I ended up in a state similar to Jaana in the previous video. The next morning I had the worst hangover of my life. As I was sitting at the kitchen table trying to drink some coffee, Tarja mummo and her best pal were spritely making Karelian pies. They coaxed, "Celia, why don't you try to make one?" and to humor them I gave it a try. As I did so, the two of them snickered like kids and when I demanded "What they hell are you two laughing at?!?" I learned of the old wives's tale that each woman fashions her Karelian pies distinctly, and they are said to resemble a certain part of her female anatomy. Leila, the friend, was like "Yeah... mine always have a lot of porridge."
Not exactly what I wanted to know as I was already sturggling to keep from barfing.
Anywho, next the pies go into a hot oven, such as this one. Many Finnish households have a stonefire oven which helps to keep things warm in the wintertime:
First they go in the oven. And when they are brownish they come out:
First they go in the oven. And when they are brownish they come out:
Then they get doused in butter... winters are long and hard in these parts, so one must eat accordingly:
Karelian pies are best enjoyed topped with munavoi (mashed hard-boiled eggs and butter) and a glass of cold milk.
It's good thing we made these hearty pies for sustenance, because later in the day, after an arduous journey to Europe's largest candy store and a taxing sauna session, Papa Hurtig was off to fight some Russians:(deleted...)
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2 comments:
I love your apron!
Don't forget to tell the story about Papa Hurtig...
MammaAdie
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