Sailor Steak ‒ Merimiespihvi

I haven't managed to find out the origin of this dish. It used to be quite a common home food, but the name leads to assume it really does originate from ship menus. According to a legend, in the seas it was better known as "One Has Gone from the Lot" ("Yksi on joukosta poissa") as it was usually served right after some crew member had been reported missing. "No land ahoy this week either, but don't worry guys, we did have some meat after all."

Merimiespihvi consists of sliced beef, potato and onion, all simmered in beer (which in some modern versions is unforgivably replaced by regular broth). It doesn't resemble a steak for one bit, so I can only assume this is the closest thing to a steak your average sailors in the old days ever managed to see. Instead of beef I used seitan which we happened to have quite a lot left from this meal. The long preparation time somehow turns these simple ingredients into a rather original tasting dish that wouldn't be the same at all if you just combined them on the plate.

Oh, and by the way: I created a Facebook page for Mämmi  to help some of you to follow what I post and have yet another way for conversation. You're all welcome to join!

- 1 portion of seitan (worth of about 4 dl gluten flour)
- 1 bottle of beer (schwarzbier or smoked beer fit here)
- 8‒10 potatoes
- 4 onions
- oil for frying
- 1 tsp whole black peppers
- thyme or a bay leaf
- stock  in case you need to complement the beer
- salt

Cut and club the seitan into mouth-sized, flat pieces. Fry on a pan. Slice the onions and sauté them a bit as well. Slice the potatoes. Arrange seitan, onion and potatoes in an oven pot layer by layer. Put a potato layer on top. Add the spices. Pour enough beer to just about to cover the upmost layer (and continue with stock in case one beer bottle isn't enough).

Cover the pot. Heat up the oven to 180°C and let the stew simmer there for at least two hours. Add water or broth in case it starts to look terribly dry while cooking. The final Merimiespihvi isn't meant to swim in broth anymore though.

Serve with pickles and/or pickled beet.

Nutritional values / 2295 g:
energy 2316 kcal
fat 49 g
protein 194 g
carbohydrates 226 g
fiber 32 g

Chocolaty Sauerkraut Stew ‒ Suklainen hapankaalipata

My favourite food is called mush. Others have invented flashier names for it though I think they're only designed to hide the truer essence. You hardly need a recipe for them since their very idea is to take a pot and stuff it with anything you find from the closet or the refrigerator. This can sometimes lead into quite dubious looking concoctions. I'm still sincerely wondering if I should divide this ingredient list into two, just for the sake of people with further developed taste buds than me. But then again, perhaps there are some other twisted minds out there.

If you can't stand sauerkraut but would like to give this a try nonetheless, flush the sharpest taste out of your kraut with water ‒ or just use freshly shredded cabbage instead. One warning: I've never run into this problem myself but little birds told me that using vanilla-flavoured chocolate in salty dishes may result in even weirder taste results.

- 300 g seitan strips
- 5 dl sauerkraut
- 2 dl beans
- 2 large apples
- 40 g dark chocolate (semi-sweet, at least 70 %)
- 1 tablespoon rape oil
- 1 tablespoon tar syrup
- 1 teaspoon coriander seeds
- 1 teaspoon caraway seeds
- 4 dl beer (I only had dark lager this time but I imagine stout or thick porter would fit even better)

In a large pot, heat up the oil. Fry the seitan and the beans until they've acquired some colour. Drain the sauerkraut and add it into the pot. Add the spices as well. While they warm up, peel (or just wash if you're using organic) and cut the apples. Mix in the apple chunks, the beer and finally, the chocolate. Let the stew simmer for few more minutes so everything becomes just one big mess.

Decorate with pickled onions.

Nutritional values / 1510 g:
energy 1778 kcal
fat 45 g
protein 126 g
carbohydrates 182 g
fiber 52 g

Talkkuna Ropsu ‒ Talkkunaropsu

A must have dessert after pea soup is ropsu. I use the South-Ostrobothnian name but most Finnish speakers call it with the word pannukakku which has the same origin as English word pancake. They have many things in common but this Finnish dish is thicker, bigger and cooked in the oven.

There are huge differences in ropsu recipes and I guess everyone just has to find their favourite through trial and error. This one gets extra flavour from talkkuna and cardamom as well as extra structure from oatmeal, yogurt and baking powder. I also use much lower temperature and less sweetening than most recipes I've seen. Actually, if I'm going to eat it with something overly sweet like jam I only use about 1 tablespoon. Most recipes use eggs which make the ropsu bubble unlike eggless versions ‒ some think it aesthetically pleasing and some are desperately trying to get rid of the phenomena.

This is easily turned into a salty version by dropping the sweetening altogether and adding some herbs like basil and marjoram. Or you might want to try other flavourings, say banana and cocoa powder.

- 1 l soy milk
- 4 dl spelt flour (or dark wheat flour)
- 1 dl talkkuna (can be replaced with more wheat flour)
- 1 dl oatmeal
- 1 dl soy yogurt
- 0.5 dl dark syrup (or sugar)
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- cardamom (or some vanilla)
- salt (just a pinch)
- 3 tablespoons margarine

Mix together the dry ingredients. Add the milk, the yogurt and the syrup. Whip whip whip. Let the batter rest for half an hour.

Warm up your oven to 175°C. Take a baking tray. (I've seen photos on the internet where people have tried to make these in a frying pan or some smallish casserole so let me stress this: you'll need a whole baking tray plus a sheet of parchment paper. If you only have a pan then make a smaller portion.) Put half of the margarine on it and stick it into the oven. When the tray has warmed up, take it out, spread the melted margarine evenly and pour the batter on it.

Cook your ropsu for half an hour on a low shelf. Take it out for a moment, top with margarine pieces and put on the top shelf for another fifteen minutes to get some colour. If you try the ropsu with a wooden stick at this point it should still feel sticky from the inside. Let it cool down before serving.

The classic sidekicks are strawberry jam and whipped cream. Instead of going to a food store just for oat cream I made a thick mousse from chocolate, fruity beer, half-frozen silken tofu, sugar and frozen berries. Part of the berries I just added on top. Voilá!

Nutritional values / 1555 g:
energy 2295 kcal
fat 55 g
protein 55 g
carbohydrates 339 g
fiber 34 g

The Weirdest Glögis

A punch of friends invited themselves at my place to throw one more pikkujoulu party. We listened to the greatest Christmas songs (like this or this) and tried the weirdest glögi ideas we could find. These are starting to get pretty far from any definition of glögi but what matters most, all turned out surprisingly delicious. Exceptionally, I'll write just one long post about them.

Carrot Glögi ‒ Porkkanaglögi

This one sounded like the most awful one so we started with it. But the drink came out quite yummy and didn't taste healthy at all.

- 1 l carrot juice
- half a lemon
- 1 tablespoon cloves
- 2 dl vodka (the bottle in the photo actually isn't vodka)

Wash and grind the lemon half (don't peel). Put the lemon and the cloves into a kettle together with the juice and let it simmer for a moment. Filter out the bits and pieces. Pour into mugs. Finalize with vodka.

Beer Glögi ‒ Olutglögi

I bought three bottles of Sinebrychoff's excellent porter for this and felt so bad in advance for having to ruin it. But no, this came out good as well though there was a bit too much ginger in relation to cinnamon.

- 1 l porter
- 2 dl water
- 1 piece of fresh ginger
- 5 cinnamon sticks

Peel the ginger piece. Let the ginger and the cinnamon sticks simmer in the water until you've caught their taste. Combine the liquid part with the beer and warm it up. Be careful not to boil the beer since it turns bitter quite easily. Beer glögi is best enjoyed while still hot.

Snowball Glögi ‒ Lumipalloglögi

The last one was the winner. There are quite many flavours in this drink but they all seemed to stand out. Sadly, the snowball itself melted all too fast.

- 1 l soy milk
- 2 dl water
- half vanilla pod
- green tea (I used a variety spiced with fruit pieces)
- spruce syrup
- 2 dl whipped oat cream
- cinnamon
(- brandy to taste)

Let the vanilla and the tea simmer in the water. Add the syrup and the milk and warm up the whole thing. Filter into mugs. Pour in some brandy if you wish. Let your guests crown the drink with a cream snowball and cinnamon.

Roasted Pumpkin Salad ‒ Paahdettu kurpitsasalaatti

Many younger Finns celebrate Halloween as the carnivalistic feast of the dead in the end of the harvest season. I'm personally not quite sure whether it's a wonderful continuum for the traditional Kekri or an awful supernational thing with only a commercial value. In any case, the best thing about it is that it's easy to acquire cheap pumpkins right in the beginning of December.

This is something I first thought I'd try with turnip but my, either I was hungry as an Ethiopian during a Red Cross strike or this worked just perfectly with pumpkin. Guess I have to check out the turnip version as well.

- 300 g pumpkin
- 200 g smoked tofu (A home imitation of this is easy to make by marinating normal extra firm tofu in tar liqueur or smoked beer.)
- 1 dl smoked almonds or nuts
- 0.5 l sorrel (I used bloody sorrel or viinisuolaheinä)
- 1 large red onion
- 2 tablespoons lingonberry juice
- 1 teaspoon apple wine vinegar
- oil
- salt
- black pepper

Peel the pumpkin and cut it in cubes. Oil a casserole and put the cubes in it. Pour some more oil on the cubes and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast them in a 200°C oven until they turn soft and their edges start to turn golden (about 45 minutes). Remember to turn them around every once in a while.

In the meanwhile, chop the onion and sauté half of it. Cut the tofu in cubes as well. Mix all the ingredients. Sprinkle with vinegar-juice mixture. Serve while the pumpkin cubes are still warm.

Nutritional values / 960 g:
energy 1086 kcal
fat 85 g
protein 56 g
carbohydrates 26 g
fiber 19 g

Gallop Sausage ‒ Laukkamakkara

I'll post this experiment for making up usage for leftover mash (from beer making) as well though it didn't really work out. The idea is nevertheless so interesting I think I'll want to keep on trying. And of course I hope that someone can help me.

There are several traditional Finnish sausage types that contain no meat. Unfortunately, I haven't found any recipes for them and I'm doubting if there are any. This type of dishes tend to be made up from things you happen to have in your closet and the expertise comes with trial and error.

Laukkamakkara's name may make a Finnish speaker think about garlic since it's nickname is "fingernail gallop" (laukka is one of the many names for onion). This is what initially made me want to use garlic as a spice, purely traditional or not. But actually this time laukka comes from Swedish lake which means salty water. This is because these type of sausages used to be preserved in salty broth.

Since I couldn't keep the sausages from crumbling apart and the taste needs some adjusting as well I'm not going to tell you any (apparently wrong) amounts. Perhaps I'll try with some potato flour or other gelatinous agent. And try to make a way to preserve them in liquid while still keeping them in one piece. In the photo they're coming from the oven, lying on a sauerkraut bed and covered with apple slices. There's also a basic seitan-based sausage between them.

- mash
- cooked potatoes
- barley grains
- garlic
- salt
- black pepper
- stock

Cook the barley grains with water and some stock. Mash the potatoes. Mix everything together and shape into phallic symbols. Wrap them tightly into folio and steam as long as needed (apparently more than 45 minutes).

Malty Seed Bread ‒ Maltainen siemenvuokaleipä

Continuing with the theme "how to use the leftover mash from beer brewing". An oblivious use is of course baking bread. This particular recipe is mostly based on this mämmi bread and this flax bread.

- 5 dl water
- 50 g yeast
- 5 dl barley mash
- about 12 dl dark wheat flour
- 1 dl flax or hemp seeds
- 2 teaspoons salt
- 1 tablespoon dark syrup
- aniseed

Dissolve the yeast in lukewarm water. Mix in the mash, most of the seeds, the syrup and the aniseed. Add the flour little by little, keep stirring all the time. Last but not least, throw in the salt and mix it well.

Now you should have a runny dough. Pour it into an oiled baking tin. Cover with a towel and leave it in some warm place for an hour. Sprinkle the remaining seeds on the bread for decoration. Bake in a 200°C oven for about forty minutes.

Nutritional values / 1500 g:
energy 3630 kcal
fat 45 g
protein 134 g
carbohydrates 650 g
fiber 82 g

Mash Cake ‒ Mäskikakku

It's not that easy to decide what kind of food to make for Kekri. Nearly all of our Kekri traditions and dishes are nowadays known as Christmas traditions and dishes. But somehow malty flavours and food with a lot of grain seem the most appropriate to me.

I'm currently trying to brew some sahti for a 20 person's Kekri feast. (Yikes!) Of course there's always that leftover - a big pot of barley mash - so I've also been trying to make up some uses for it. This cake recipe uses the leftover mash after the wort has been drained from it. I think it'd be pretty safe to replace it with (unknown amount of) non-used malts or mämmi if you just check that the structure seems moist enough.

At first I thought I'd use the mämmi cake recipe The Finnish Mämmi Association gives but that had eggs in it and didn't seem that interesting otherwise either. So instead I kind of combined it with a Christmassy sounding sour milk cake recipe with some additions of my own.

- 3 dl barley mash
- 2 dl soy yogurt (apparently, soy milk thickened and soured with lemon juice should do as well)
- 1 dl potato flour
- 3.5 dl wheat flour
- 100 g margarine (for example Keiju 70%)
- 1.5 dl dark syrup
- 1.5 tsp soda
- 1 dl dried cranberries
- 1 dl dried apple pieces
- 1 dl brandy
- 1 tsp allspice
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- margarine and breadcrumbs for the mold

Pour the brandy on the dried cranberries and apple pieces. Let them soak for a few hours. Mix the ingredients well together. Butter a cake mold and powder with breadcrumbs. Pour the paste in the mold and cook about an hour in a 175°C oven.

The cake is nicely spicy on its own but I decorated it with a mixture of cocoa butter, oat cream, icing sugar and a drop of lemon juice.

Nutritional values / 1100 g:
energy 3513 kcal
fat 74 g
protein 55 g
carbohydrates 495 g
fiber 32 g

Beer Pots with Potato Crust ‒ Olutruukut muusikuorrutteella

To make the best of those awesome colours of the trees right now I tried to imitate them for the perfect autumnal Sunday dinner. I've never really learned how to use pumpkin so I was going to put some into this. However, I only managed to find huge halves that cost about 10 euros a piece. That's a bit more than I'm ready to pay even for domestic veggies. So instead, I bought 3 kilos of rutabaga with one euro. We'll see where I manage to cram them.

Oh, by the way, the colours of these couple of last photos aren't that awesome. That's because I thought I'd just use my camera's inbuilt flash and filter the ugliest direct light with a yellow dishcloth. Getting the white balance even close to natural after that took me longer than preparing this dish. Maybe next time I understand to fetch a real flash even if the Simpsons is about to start.

- 1 small rutabaga
- 1 large carrot
- 1 celeriac
- 10-15 brussels sprouts
- 0.5 l beer, for example Sinebrychoff Porter or Fuller's London Porter
- 2 dl seitan flour
- 0.5 dl rowan berries
- 1 chili
- 1 dl nutritional yeast
- 1 dose of stock
- white pepper
- 4 potatoes
- 1 dl oat cream
- dragon's wort

Squash the rowan berries and the chili. Make a paste of them and the seitan flour. Add some as well water if needed. Cut the seitan and the vegetables into strips and sauté them. Add the stock, the yeast and some white pepper.

Cook the potatoes. Mash them together with the cream and the dragon's wort. Never apply a blender or other sharp blades to potato unless you want to get glue.

Next you'll need four small oven pots. If you're going to use normal mugs, first check that they're meant to last in the oven. Unfortunately, cheapest ones rarely are. Portion the veggie and seitan mixture into the pots. Pour the beer on them. Scoop the mashed potatoes on top. Put the pots into a 175°C oven until the potato mash starts to turn golden from the edges (about half an hour).

Serve with pickles and lingonberries.

Nutritional values / 1 pot:
energy 357 kcal
fat 7 g
protein 24 g
carbohydrates 36 g
fiber 8 g

Sahti

If you don't know sahti, you don't know beers. This primordial Finnish top-fermented beer is among the oldest still brewed beer types in the world. If there hadn't been a prohibition law in Finland from 1919 to 1932 it would also be the longest brewed beer type for sale ‒ officially. That crown now belongs to another fine beer, Belgian lambic, which also happens to have the probably closest resemblance of sahti.

Sahti's taste is soft, sweet and thick, often described as banana-like. Instead of hops it's flavoured with juniper. It doesn't bubble much and stores only a month at most the fridge. The old poems describe mash bushel being lifted on the roof for the thunder (=ukkonen) god Ukko water it and then fermented with the drool of a horny boar. And as you probably understand from this description sahti has a special place in certain pagan feasts.

At the moment I'm making my very first round of sahti for the most important holiday of the year, midsummer, the nightless day. This feast originally known as Vakkajuhla (= bushel feast) used to be celebrated with a big punch of friends by a lake to ask Ukko send rain for the harvest to grow. Christian invaders turned pretty much all the Finnish feasts to have Christian meanings but the only thing they managed to change in this one was its name: it's nowadays known as Juhannus which refers to John the Baptist. It still involves gatherings by lakes, drinking and eating, bonfires and fertility rites. I'll update this post after I've seen how my sahti turns out but I thought I'd post this plan already in the hope of inspiring the rest of you to try as well.

To be a purist you should keep in mind that:
1. Sahti doesn't contain hops. Instead it's usually flavoured with juniper (though I've heard some other herbs like heather or wild rosemary have been used as well).
2. Sahti is always made of barley malts. Some people also use rye or caramel malts but only small amounts for flavouring.
3. Don't use added sugar. All the sugar should come from the malts and sahti isn't supposed to sparkle either. You won't need sugar even in the bottling stage since it can't be stored long anyways. Besides, well cooked wort should already produce 10-11 % beer which in most beer types is more than enough to make it taste like alcohol and thus ruin its own taste.
4. Never let the mash temperature rise over 70°C or you'll get porridge. The wort shouldn't be cooked at all, only quickly sterilized at most.
5. The most common yeast used today is common baking yeast, not normal ale yeast. This gives sahti a distinct flavour. (Of course in the old times people just saved some yeast from every round for the next one. I wouldn't want to annoy an angry boar.)
6. Approximately, 1 kg of malts makes about 2 l of sahti. Yes, it's thick.
7. Sahti is served unfiltered. Actually the leftover yeast helps it last better.
8. Three most important things to remember are cleanliness, cleanliness and cleanliness. Sterilize all the tools you use, including your hands.

Of course, rules only exists to be broken. But if you do make exceptions to please your own taste then please don't call your beer sahti. You may feel it doesn't change that much if you use hops but names used very broadly cease to really mean anything. Here's what I did:

- 3 l sahti malts
- 3 dl rye malts
- 20 g juniper berries
- 7 l water
- 50 g baking yeast

Sterilize all your equipments. Put 3 l of water in a big pot and let it come to a boil. Add the malts. Keep stirring until you've got a porridge. Heat up until the temperature has reached 70°C and make sure it doesn't rise further. Simmer for an hour. Crush the juniper berries and throw them in. Simmer another three hours. Taste to make sure it's sweet enough. It's also desirable to measure the gravity at this point so it'll be easier to trace what went wrong.

Filter and pour into an air tight fermentation vessel (with airlock). Boil the rest of the water and pour in. When the temperature has dropped to about 20°C add the yeast, dissolved in a mug of lukewarm water. Let your sahti-to-be ferment in room temperature as long as it wants to. This should take about 3-5 days. Check the gravity again and bottle your sahti and store in cold for a week. Apparently, the bigger the barrel the longer the taste lasts. Don't leave room for oxygen. If you see a foam your sahti hasn't finished yet and shouldn't be drunk (unless you want stains in your underpants).

Ask your friends over to drink your sahti fresh! Here's a suggested drinking song as well.

Stuffed Turnips ‒ Täytetyt nauriit

Another nice thing to stuff and cook in the grill is turnips. Anything you normally use as a stuffing for baked potato works terrificly with these sweeties as well, only they have more taste of their own. This time I decided to use smoked tofu and tar liquer which both taste like they were designed especially for turnips.

- 1 kg turnips (about 7)
- 270 g smoked tofu
- 1 onion
- 2 dl tar liqueur (or beer and 1 tablespoon dark syrup)
- 50 g soy cheese (or margarine)
- breadcrumbs
- salt
- black pepper
- oil for frying
(fava beans, barley grains, mushrooms...)

Cook the turnips about ten minutes in salty water. Hollow them carefully with a sharp knife and set the scooped out pieces aside. (Some people use them in the stuffing. I find the idea of stuffing turnips with turnips a little dull so I just foil them into the next meal I cook.) Chop the onion and the tofu and sauté them. Add some black pepper and stuck them in the turnips. Pour the liqueur on them. Put a piece of the cheese on each turnip and perfect by sprinkling some breadcrumbs on top. Grill until golden brown.

Nutritional values / 1 turnip (without the liqueur):
energy 154 kcal
fat 8 g
protein 10 g
carbohydrates 11 g
fiber 4 g

Blins ‒ Linnit

Remeber when I frowned upon vegan caviar? Well of course I had to try it. I've never eaten roe so can't say if it reminded that or not but I did love the taste and the structure. And so did my seaweed hating spouse so I guess we'll be buying these again. Wonder if something like this could be made home?

The natural thing to eat with caviar is of course blins. Finns usually think them as a Russian dish but in Russia the word may mean any kind of pancakes. In Finland the name always means small, round and above all, sour pancakes made from buckwheat. They're the salty option for sweeter pancakes that are usually eaten as a dessert.

I've tried many recipes for blins but before this all of them have involved eggs. Now that I left eggs out I couln't tell the difference. I used this recipe with couple of minor changes.

- 3 dl oat milk
- 2 dl soy yoghurt
- 15 g yeast
- 3 dl buckwheat flour
- 1 dl spelt flour
- 1 tsp dark syrup
- 1 tsp salt
- 50 g margarine
- 1 dl beer, for example Lammin käki or Flying Dog Snake Dog IPA
- rape oil for frying (about 2 tbsp)

Dissolve the yeast in lukewarm milk. Mix in the yoghurt, the flours and the syrup. Cover the bowl with a towel and leave in a warm place for couple of hours.

Melt the margarine and whisk it in as well as the salt and the beer. Fry small pancakes with plenty of oil.

Besides red Caviart we enjoyd these with fried shiitake mushrooms, minced onion, pickle slices and whipped soy cream. Yummy!

Nutritional values / 1000 g:
energy 2259 kcal
fat 73 g
protein 50 g
carbohydrates 244 g
fiber 19 g

Beer Ice Cream ‒ Olutjäätelö

Before recently discovering this site I never imagined making my own ice cream. Turned out it's actually really easy. Ice cream consists of milk (or cream or yoghurt), sugar, possibly some gelatinous substance (like agar or potato flour) and of course aroma ingredients. You only need a special ice cream maker if you want to speed things up. Now I can no longer understand why anyone would want to buy ice cream for the freezer.

At the moment I've got a long list of ice cream tastes I want to try. I promise I'll tell you more about them after I've tried them out but meanwhile read what Agnes has to say. Also check this blog. (The guy has just started the English version but he's kept the same thing in Swedish much longer.) Or buy this or this recipe book. And if you really run out of ideas see the list of the world's most horrible ice cream tastes. Interestingly, nearly all of them are Japanese. There's also a "Finland ice cream" on that list but unfortunately they won't tell what's in it besides xylitol.

The first thing I decided to try was naturally beer ice cream. The idea originates from the Guinness factory so of course there's Guinness in it (Apparently Guinness extra stout is complitely vegan whereas Guinness Draught uses a fish swimbladder product called isinglass.) but after trying that one I'd go for some stronger tasting yet still thick and smooth beer cause my Guinness ice cream tasted more like oat than beer (although yummy it was anyway). Unfortunately my nearest brewery Plevna isn't allowed to sell out their products so instead I'd go with the Norwegian Nøgne Ø or Danish Nørrebro. (This being said without a clue of their possible animal additives. Usually quality beer makers tend to avoid empty extras that don't add to the experience.)

These amounts may seem a bit weird since I've converted them from American cups. Don't think it matters if you round them a bit though. It's funny how nearly every English-speaking country seems have a unit system of their own. In most recipes I just use 2.5 dl instead of one cup though it can be more or less.

4.8 dl oat cream
2.4 dl oat milk
3.5 dl creamy stout (for example Guinness Extra Stout)
1.8 dl sugar

Whisk the ingredients together. Put the bowl in the freezer. Remember to stir occasionally (for example every two hours) to break the icy glitter it would otherwise form. At the end of the freezing you'll need a blender to do this.

Generally speaking, if you put the cream in the freezer when making breakfast you can raise your scoop by the dinner time.

Nutritional values / 1223 g:
energy 1411 kcal
fat 50 g
protein 7 g
carbohydrates 210 g
fiber 7 g

South-Ostrobothnian Beer Soup ‒ Eteläpohojalaanen kalijavelli

\o/ I made it! I cooked edible beer soup! And it only took me two tries.

This is a treat that my granny used to make. For some reason my spouse - and now that I think of it, pretty much everyone not from from South-Ostrobothnia - was very suspicious of this. I guess it just sounds like a weird idea for them to use beer in any other way than on it's own. Still, I recommend you to try. Remember, you've got nothing to loose, only to gain. And there's really only one thing you can do wrong with this: boiling it bitter.

- 270 g firm tofu (This replaces an oven fried fresh cheese called leipäjuusto. It fits great since it has the same kind of squeaky texture, but one day I'm going to try if it's possible to make leipäjuusto from soft tofu. Can't see no reason why it wouldn't work.)
- 1 l beer (traditionally kalja but any "easy" and soft one should do.)
- 0.5 l oat milk (actually, I substituted part of it with oat cream)
- 3 tbsp wheat flour
- 1 dl dark syrup
- 2 dl raisins
- a hint of salt
- margarine for frying

Cut the tofu in cubes and fry them well with margarine and part of syrup. Put them in a kettle with everything else. Whip it up a bit to make sure the flour has dissolved instead of forming clumps. (There also exists a clump soup but that's a different dish not involving beer.)

Warm up the soup until it has thickened. Keep stirring constantly. Be sure not to boil it! Beer will quickly turn bitter and inedible when boiled. (Believe me, I know what I'm talking about.)

Remember: it's better to leave the soup a bit runny than overboil and thus ruin it!

Nutritional values / 1.5 l:
energy 1524 kcal
fat 38 g
protein 58 g
carbohydrates 232 g
fiber 18 g

Kalja

Kalja or kotikalja or vaarinkalja is a typical Finnish table beer you see in any canteen or formal feast. It's dark and often sweet but low in alcohol which is why the bizarre Finnish alcohol laws or strict attitude towards alcohol drinks don't apply to it. (I often hear people say we've got a liberal attitude towards alcohol. That's simply not true. Even a glass of wine is generally considered as getting pissed.) My mum always has some in the fridge. As a kid I used to drop sugar cubes in my glass just to see kalja foam.

I have a 1.5 litre jug where I wanted to make kalja but could only find recipes for big portions. So I compared a few of them and adapted a smallish version myself. It worked well so I'll post it for you too.

- 1.5 l water
- 1 dl rye malt
- 3/4 dl sugar
- 1/4 tsp yeast

Boil the water for about ten minutes and pour it on the malt and sugar. Let it cool down for couple of hours and then add the yeast crumb. Place in a warm place for a day. Filter the liquid and move it in a cool place. This is at its best after couple of days.

Like another Finnish beer sahti, kalja too would ideally be spiced with juniper berries. Unfortunately I haven't been able to find any lately.

Finncrisp Rolls ‒ Hapankorppurullat

Once again I read about algae and how I should eat more of it since it contains iodine and Finnish soil doesn't. (Iodine is added to table salt but I almost never use it.) For some reason only the Celts seem to have eaten algae in Europe. I'm not completely convinced that Finns living by waters could have scorned such a great nutrition source only cause it looks slimy but anyway, raised amongst modern customs I have no idea how to use seaweed. Last time I tried to make crippled sushi my spouse wouldn't come ten metres close to the kitchen. He said the doggone thing smells like fish. I tried to explain fish merely smell like seaweed cause they rub themselves against it all the time but it was no use.

Quite recently, I bought a cook book called Herne rokkaa (Jere Nieminen, Multikustannus) which has nothing but pea recipes. It's more of a picture book with migren launching graphics than a serious receipe book, but there are also some excellent ideas buried between the empty pages. It showed me peas can be used anywhere pretty much in the same way as soy or other beans.

One of them involved rolled finncrisps with a filling, just like the ones served at every birthday party when I was a kid. Nieminen called them ryeish pea sushi but I really wouldn't wanna mock Japanese cuisine which I truly respect. (Much like Finnish cuisine it values local high quality ingredients but also sour tastes. There are also many weird similarities between Japanese and Finnish cultures and languages.) Maybe that's why this filling I improvised involved seaweed. Or maybe it's there only cause I'm trying to foist it somewhere. Or perhaps it's meant to give taste. You decide.

- 20 small and narrow finncrisps (If you'll only find wide ones you can always halve them after rolling.)
- 1 bottle of beer (or broth or soy sauce)
- 200 g peas
- 1 sheet of algae (I used nori which has a very strong sea flavour but not as much iodine than most. Milder arame is a better choice for beginners.)
- 3 tbsp soy yoghurt
- 1 pickle
- 1 punch of fresh mint
- dried chili
- a cucumber piece twice the width of your finnstrips

Dip the finncrisps in beer and lay them down. Mash the peas, the seaweed, the yoghurt, the mint and the chili. Cut the pickle in really small cubes and mix them in the paste. Cut the cucumber piece in 20 strips.

By now your finncrisps should be soft and rollable. If not, find a pastry brush, brush more beer on them and wait another ten minutes. Spred a thin layer of the filling on the not-so-crisps. Place a cucumber strip on one end and roll. Place the rolls close to each other on a plate so they won't open up.

If you leave the cucumber piece out you'll get more Swiss roll looking bars. In the unlikely case I'll ever host a coctail party I'd try that side by side the same thing with a red filling.

Nutritional values / 1 roll / 46.1 g:
energy 37 kcal
fat 0 g
protein 2 g
carbohydrates 6 g
fiber 2 g

Rutabaga Kukko ‒ Lanttukukko

Kukkos are a Savoyard and Karelian speciality available with any imaginable filling. The most famous ones I believe are kalakukko (filled with fish), lanttukukko (rutabaga) and mustikkakukko or rättänä (bilberries). If you look the dictionary, you'll find that kukko means cock in the official language. This however isn't official language. The name of the dish refers most likely to kukkaro (wallet), cause the rye cover hides (kätkeä) something.

For my very first lanttukukko I looked help mostly from a kalakukko recipe and another lanttukukko recipe that has a lot of helpful photos about the different stages.

The cover:
- 5 dl water
- 1/2 tbsp salt
- 100 g margarine
- 9 dl rye flour
- 3 dl white flour, for example wheat or spelt

The filling:
- 1 kg rutabaga (actually I used turnip which I find tastier)
- salt
- sugar
- tar liqueur (I'm quite certain beer would work as well)
- margarine
- barley grains (about 2 dl)

Peel and slice the rutabagas. Put the slices into a pot and shake with sugar and salt so the slices start to “sweat”. Mix the cover ingredients and spread it on the table to a circle so that it's diameter is about one metre. The edges should be about one centimetre thick, the centre may be thicker. Spread a thin layer of barley grains in the centre and on it a layer of rutabaga. Also sprinkle salt, tar liqueur, barley grains and margarine on them. Then add the next rutabaga layer and keep going until you've finished all your slices. Top with salt, tar liqueur and margarine. Now you can seal the kukko. Even the cover with wet hands so there are no holes or lumps.

Put it in the 250°C oven for half an hour so the cover hardens up and gets some colour. Lower the heat to 125°C. Wrap the kukko in moist parchment paper and after that into folio. Cook four hours more. When you take the kukko out cover it with towels so the cover won't get hard.

There are different schools in how to eat this thing. Some say you should cut the top open and start eating from the insides. I like to slice it like bread. Either way you'll notice it's a very versatile dish.

Nutritional values / 2700 g
energy 3076 kcal
fat 98 g
protein 116 g
carbohydrates 669 g
fiber 141 g