A crash course for first-timers in Finnish forests – The Irish Times
In the icy fresh air of Finland’s Nuuksio National Park, dwarfed by towering pines that catch the day’s light rain before it reaches the forest floor, I listen attentively to my foraging guide. Inu Pelli, a wilderness expert who has been picking mushrooms since he was a child, gives this group of first-time collectors a crash course in what we can find.
There are thousands of types of mushrooms in Finnish forests, he says, but most are inedible and some are so poisonous that even one mushroom can kill.
“So when you pick a mushroom, pick it all and don’t leave the roots,” he advises. “It can be important to identify mushrooms of the genus Amanita, the most poisonous mushroom. If there’s an onion root, leave it where it is.” And with that, we’re off to find mushrooms in the ground that can be either delicious or deadly.
It takes me a few minutes to focus my “mushroom eye”, but when I finally do, it’s amazing how suddenly the whole country seems to be clustered into all sorts: easily recognizable chanterelles, milk cups that are edible after boiling, poisonous ones that aren’t. t make it to my cart, and the red-and-white-spotted type (also toxic) made famous by Super Mario.
Pelli explains that foraging is part of traditional Finnish culture – two-thirds of the country is covered in thick forests, where there are plenty of edible delicacies such as mushrooms, berries, herbs and plants all year round.
Partly to take advantage of the free organic market, but partly to spend time in nature – that’s forest bathing before that term – every fourth Finn goes out looking for food. In fact, they top that world list (and during a few days in Helsinki, I learned that quirky Finns top many comparison lists about contemporary life).
As traditional as the foraging is, it’s a sign of their comfort with modernity that Helsinki’s food scene is as inventive as its Scandinavian cousins in Copenhagen and Stockholm. And with a strong identity and demanding taste, the capital city strikes in its own direction. Their food market is strong with Finnish products, and their national love for sushi (and Japan in general) makes sense when you think about the country’s abundance of fresh fish.
Their contemporary restaurants are another example. In fact, my next encounter with mushrooms will be at Finnjävel, a pop-up Michelin-starred restaurant that uses traditional Finnish techniques such as salting, smoking and fermentation to form the basis of its contemporary menu.
Their owners, including head chef Tommi Tuominen, boldly founded the restaurant, claiming that it would last only two years. When that time came, humble pie was served instead, and now they have established a permanent home in a magnificent stone house from 1830, when the Russians ruled Finland. Finnjävel can be found in a quiet corner of Helsinki’s southern harbor area, past Oodi, Helsinki’s colossal library and social space open for books, chat, wine, gamers, music production and more until 9pm (oh, for Helsinki’s quality of life).
The restaurant is divided into two parts: there is Salonki, a fine dining room, and Sali, which they call a “relaxed restaurant experience”, although the interiors are all top-notch Finnish, with sweeping material suspended from the ceiling and soft floor lighting. to add subtle drama. Dishes such as the mushroom porridge starter topped with fried wild mushrooms are delightfully detailed in balance and texture – creamy, chewy and crunchy in one bite.
Nolla, the country’s first zero-waste restaurant, has a similar fayre standard and incorporates sustainability into its operations. In its recycled industrial-chic premises in Punavuori, diners get to see the beers made from the yeast left over from the bread they serve.
Luka Balac, one of its three international chef-owners, introduces me to the modern, odorless composter affectionately known as Lauri. It is located in the corner of the restaurant and devours garbage such as coffee grounds and fish bones – everything is weighed in advance to keep food waste to a minimum. “It turns into compost in 24 hours and we send it back to the farm to use, so we close the loop,” he explains.
We were disgusted by the amount of food waste we have seen in some kitchens. And that’s disrespectful to the producer
“The premise of all this is that we have grown up close to nature, and when you know how much effort it takes to grow something, there’s no sense in wasting it,” he says. “We were disgusted by the amount of food waste we have seen in some kitchens. And that’s disrespectful to the producer. And it doesn’t make financial sense, which is important when running a restaurant. So we saw a clear benefit of wasting less.”
Their commitment to sustainability goes further: for example, their ceiling lamps act as an acoustic panel for added efficiency, and they source seasonal ingredients from small and local producers, refusing to accept anything that isn’t in reusable or recycled packaging.
But is it a success as a restaurant? The proof is in the pudding – and the refreshing bay leaf ice cream (Finns are also the biggest ice cream eaters in Europe, would you believe) is convincing.
During the long weekend, when I eat around Helsinki, it quickly becomes clear how robust the Finnish palette is. There’s punchy dill garnished liberally over spicy salmon dishes. Coffee that would blow your head off – it’s no surprise that they’re also the biggest coffee drinkers in the world. Even the local corner store where I buy my obligatory hotel room chips sells black truffle chips as standard. And the national grab-and-give snack, resembling sausage rolls, is a rye dough topped with egg butter known as Karelian pie (really a mouthful).
As their culinary delights show, Finns are by no means an unassuming bunch
Nothing proves the refined tastes of Finns better than licorice, my sweet enemy. Lollipop of punishment if not salty sweets, I hope that in the spiritual home of other black things we will finally reach a truce. For a taste test, I head to Roobert’s Herkun’s Willy Wonka-style store, whose window is decorated with rows upon rows of licorice jars among American and international candies.
Guided by the owner Arja Klskela, whose family has owned the confectionery shop for three generations, I choose tar flavor because it is traditional in Finland. As soon as I put it in my mouth, it’s an instant no – the gummy licorice in my base flavor is heavy and unforgiving and makes my mouth curl inside out. I buy Jelly Bellys to take the taste away, I’m glad I at least tried it. Just never again.
As their culinary delights show, Finns are by no means an unassuming bunch. They may indeed top the list for foraging, drinking coffee, eating ice cream (and saunas per capita), but they also recently topped the UN’s World Happiness Report for the fifth time. So maybe we could take a leaf out of their book. And there’s no better place to start than its famous forests.
Shilpa Ganatra was a guest of Helsinki Partners. Finnair flies directly from Dublin to Helsinki every day