Holiday traditions of Finland bring warmth and light
Food // Recipes
Paolo Lucchesi Dec. 14, 2013 Updated: Dec. 8, 2016 10:39 a.m.
Glogg (Mulled Wine).
Photo: Craig Lee, Special to The Chronicle
When people see my name, they correctly assume my background is Italian. It's not subtle. But what is not evident from my name is that I'm only half Italian.
My mother was born and raised in Finland, and despite the fact that I grew up in the Italian American enclave of South San Francisco, my youth was strongly influenced by my Finnish heritage.
Entire childhood summers were spent in Finland, riding the streetcars in and around Helsinki, or venturing out to the countryside, where my sister and I wasted entire days swimming in lakes and soaking in saunas. I became fluent in Finnish, conversing with my grandparents there, though that's a skill that quickly dissipated with age.
Back in Northern California, it was the holiday season that showcased my family's Scandinavian roots.
On the first weekend of December, my mother would fetch the box of Christmas supplies from the cellar. The festivities commenced that first weekend with our "Little Christmas," a mini-celebration to exchange small gifts and decorate the house.
But instead of Frosty the Snowman or Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer kitsch, we would put out traditional Finnish holiday decor: straw yule goats, a wooden manger scene, hand-sewn elves, worn silver candlesticks, red Marimekko tablecloths.
Advent calendars mysteriously appeared on our bedroom doors, and breakfast every morning in December consisted of a rice porridge dusted with cinnamon.
Finnish culture, led by food, dominated our holidays, and it still does.
Throughout the rest of the year, my parents - both UC Berkeley grads - cook simply and truthfully, acolytes of the church of Chez Panisse. But for the holidays, and especially on Christmas Eve, California cuisine takes a backseat to Finnish culinary traditions.
Joulutortut (Star Pastries)
My mother would enlist our help in cutting the gingerbread cookies, or in forming my favorites, joulutortut - star-shaped jam tarts, baked just before serving. After dinner, the adults would sip glögg, a warm mulled wine served in my grandmother's fancy etched glass mugs, the scent of cloves and cinnamon permeating the house.
To understand why the holidays are so important to Finnish families - indeed, to everyone of Scandinavian background - consider the context.
So many of my food memories of Finland are vivid summer ones - freshly smoked salmon, just-picked forest blueberries and moccasin-shaped Karelian pastries, all in a country so close to the Arctic Circle that the estival sun shines until midnight.
In winter, the script is entirely flipped.
Finland's latitude - roughly equal to Alaska - makes it one of the few countries that lie above the 60th parallel. That means the winter sun is shockingly dim, a distant bulb hovering on the horizon, never reaching the top of the sky and peeking out only for a few hours in the middle of the day. If you work inside, it's easy to go weeks without seeing the sun. You can see how vodka becomes popular.
The freezing temperatures limit food options to meats, cured fish, root vegetables, pickles and preserves. The sea is iced over, so fresh fish - so abundant in the summer - is in short supply. Danish chef Rene Redzepi, in San Francisco last month, said the wintry Baltic Sea could be compared to San Francisco Bay - but only if the bay were a giant block of ice.
And if snow is late, winter in Finland is an especially dark time.
1of3Karelian stew simmers in a sarpaneva - a Finnish stew pot - and is later served over small boiled potatoes and accompanied by lingonberry preserves.Photo: Russell Yip, The Chronicle
2of3The heavy, enamel-lined sarpaneva features a curved wooden handle that can also be used to lift the lid.Photo: Craig Lee, Special to The Chronicle
Perhaps that's the reason Scandinavians place such importance on the holiday season inside their homes. Surely that's why white lights and candles seem to sparkle more brightly in Finland, especially on the feast of St. Lucia, a celebration of lights on Dec. 13 in all Nordic countries. The Christmas spirit floods homes, exuding a glow and warmth unlike any other.
Legend also has it that Santa Claus is from Finland. One story of Santa's origins stems from Finnish pagan myths, and as a bright-eyed kid, I even went to his workshop in Lapland, high past the Arctic Circle.
Christmas celebrations last the month - and come to a crescendo on Christmas Eve at a spread dubbed Joulupöytä.
For our family, the feast begins with a smorgasbord: lox on homemade rye bread, cured herring, and rosolli, a pink-hued chopped salad of beets, potatoes, apples, carrots and pickles. We often add a few non-Finnish starters - a salumi plate or a giardiniera salad. Need to keep the Italians happy, too.
The traditional centerpiece of Christmas Eve meals in Finland is the ham. One vintage recipe requires the home cook to pickle a whole ham, letting it soak in a brine bath for two weeks before baking it in a rye bread.
Rather than do that, or order a Honeybaked ham, my parents take a different approach, making Karelian stew the crux of our meal.
Karelia is the disputed territory between Russia and Finland, and the stew, straightforward and rustic, is a holdover from peasant times: a mixture of three meats, simmered in the leftover heat from the wood-fired bread oven as it slowly cools after performing its weekly duty.
Maybe it was the lack of readily available reindeer - curious animals that litter the Finnish countryside like cows do Sonoma - but my parents tweaked the traditional recipe for Karelian stew to take on a more local sensibility. That said, the stew must be served over small boiled potatoes, with lingonberry preserves.
To complement the stew, there's a medley of side casseroles: carrot, rutabaga, potato, even liver.
Dessert is simple: gingerbread cookies and those aforementioned freshly baked star pastries. Later in the night, adults pour warm glögg or maybe some viina; for the children, it's time for presents.
As a kid, I didn't think much about our rituals. It was just what we did. Now, I realize it's those food memories that impart a sense of time and place. I might not remember what was under the tree each year, but I'll never forget how to form star pastries.
Food truly is culture. In reflecting on my family's path, I can't help but feel grateful - and excited to pass these traditions, and others new and old, along to the next generation.
These pastries are traditionally made with prune jam, but you can use any flavor as long as the jam is very thick with fruit. The pastries bake quickly so you can form them ahead of time; refrigerate them if making more than 1 hour ahead or if the kitchen is very warm. Allow a little longer baking time if refrigerated. Bake these during dinner to serve warm and fresh for dessert.
6 to 8 ounces pitted, unsulphured prunes (also called dried plums), about 1 small bag
-- All-purpose flour for dusting
1 package puff pastry, defrosted (see Note)
For the jam: Put the prunes and the cinnamon stick in small saucepan and add enough water to cover. Bring to a very low simmer, occasionally stirring and mashing with a spoon. Cook until the prunes become soft and jamlike, 35-45 minutes. You can make the jam ahead. You will have 3/4-1 cup. Leftovers will keep a couple of weeks, refrigerated.
For the pastries: Preheat the oven to 400° and dust a work surface with flour. Place 1 puff pastry sheet on the work surface and lightly dust the top of the sheet with flour. (Keep the other sheet refrigerated until ready to use.) Use a rolling pin to form a 12-inch square. Dust a fluted wheel pastry cutter with flour and cut 9 (4-inch) squares. Use a sharp knife or pizza cutter if you don't have a fluted wheel.
Separate the squares a little, then cut four diagonal lines - about 2-inches long- from the corners of each square halfway to the center. Dollop 2-3 teaspoons of jam in the middle. You can be generous with the prune jam, but use less if your jam is a thinner commercial product because it can leak out.
To form the star, bring together alternating edges from each corner to the middle and firmly pinch them together to make a slight point. Place on ungreased rimmed baking sheets or cookie sheets.
Repeat with the second puff pastry sheet and the rest of the jam.
Bake until puffed and golden brown, about 12 minutes; switch and rotate the baking sheets halfway through if needed. Serve while still warm.
Note: It is easiest to use a 17.3-ounce box of Pepperidge Farm Puff Pastry Sheets, which contains two square sheets.
Per serving: 173 calories, 2 g protein, 18 g carbohydrate, 11 g fat (2 g saturated), 0 mg cholesterol, 69 mg sodium, 1 g fiber.
Karjalanpaisti (Karelian Stew)
This straightforward stew - traditionally cooked in a sarpaneva (pictured at right) and served with small boiled potatoes and lingonberry preserves - forms the base of the Finnish holiday dinner. While the meat may be fork-tender after 2 1/2 hours of braising, cooking the stew longer breaks down the vegetables that help thicken the sauce.
1 pound beef stew meat, boneless chuck or bottom round, trimmed and cut into large cubes
1 pound lamb stew meat, leg of lamb or lamb shoulder, trimmed and cut into large cubes
1 pound pork stew meat or boneless butt, trimmed and cut into large cubes
-- Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
1 to 2 tablespoons canola oil, as needed
2 medium onions, cut into small dice, 3-4 cups
2 medium carrots, cut into small dice, about 1 1/2 cups
10 whole allspice berries
10 black peppercorns
3 to 4 cups low-sodium beef broth, as needed
-- Small boiled potatoes, for serving
-- Lingonberry preserves, for serving
Instructions: Preheat the oven to 300°.
Season the meat with salt and pepper. Pour a thin coat of oil into a Dutch oven or large pot. Set the pot over medium-high heat. When the oil shimmers, add the meat, in batches, without crowding; brown on all sides. Remove the meat to a medium bowl as the pieces finish browning. Repeat to brown all the meat, adding more oil as needed.
Add the onions, carrots, spices, and browned meat to the pot. Pour in enough broth to almost cover. Place the uncovered pot in the oven and bake 2 1/2 hours. Cover the pot and continue cooking until the meat is about falling-apart tender and the carrots and onion have broken down enough to help thicken the sauce, about 2 1/2 hours longer.
Serve with small boiled potatoes and lingonberry preserves.
Per serving: 314 calories, 37 g protein, 7 g carbohydrate, 15 g fat (5 g saturated), 116 mg cholesterol, 126 mg sodium, 2 g fiber.
Rosolli (Beet Salad)
Serves about 8
Use this recipe as a guide rather than for exact measurements, so feel free to vary the proportions. You can make the dressing ahead and prepare the vegetables ahead, but assemble the salad just before serving. The beets turn the salad a bright pink.
3 tablespoons distilled white vinegar, or to taste
-- Kosher salt and black pepper, to taste
1/2 to 3/4 pound russet potatoes, peeled cut into medium dice, about 2 cups
1 large carrot, peeled and cut into small dice, about 1 cup
1/2 to 3/4 pound pickled or roasted red beets, cut into medium dice, about 2 cups (see Note)
2 Granny Smith apples, peeled and cut into small dice
2 large dill pickles, cut into small dice, about 1 cup + more to taste
1 cup small diced pickled herring, optional
Instructions: Whisk together the dressing ingredients; refrigerate until read to use.
Cook the potatoes in boiling water until done; drain and refrigerate. Cook the carrots in boiling water until just crisp-tender; drain and refrigerate.
Just before serving, combine the potatoes, carrots, beets, apples, pickles and herring, if using, in a serving bowl. Add the dressing, and toss to combine. Season with salt and pepper, and toss again. Serve at once.
Note: Pickled beets can be purchased. To roast the beets: Preheat the oven to 400°. Scrub large beets to remove any dirt, trim tails and stems. Place in a roasting pan or casserole dish and cover with foil. Roast until you can easily insert the tip of a sharp knife into the center, 1-1 1/2 hours, depending on size. When cool enough to handle, peel the beets (they are easier to peel while still warm).
Per serving: 104 calories, 2 g protein, 15 g carbohydrate, 5 g fat (3 g saturated), 10 mg cholesterol, 284 mg sodium, 2 g fiber.
Glögg (Mulled Wine)
A hearty red wine with minimal tannins is best for this beverage, which is traditionally served after dinner. The mulled wine can be made ahead.
1 750 ml. bottle dry red wine such as Chianti or Syrah
1/2 cup sweet vermouth
2 cinnamon sticks
1 teaspoon ground ginger or 2 slices fresh ginger
1 orange slice
-- About 1/2 cup sliced blanched raw almonds
Instructions: Combine all ingredients, except the almonds, in a medium saucepan. Set aside at least 1 hour. Place the saucepan on the stove over medium heat, and bring to a simmer. Remove from the heat and keep warm if not serving right away.
Just before serving, place a small handful of almonds into each cup. Pour in the mulled wine, scatter a few more almonds on top, if desired, and serve immediately.
Per serving: 150 calories, 1 g protein, 12 g carbohydrate, 0 g fat, 0 mg cholesterol, 9 mg sodium, 1 g fiber.
Paolo Lucchesi is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. E-mail: plucchesi@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @lucchesi
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Paolo Lucchesi is the San Francisco Chronicle's Inside Scoop columnist. He covers all breaking restaurant news in the Bay Area, from openings and closings to chef gossip and other food media. Before coming to The Chronicle food section, he served as the founding editor of Eater San Francisco, which launched in fall 2007, and later Eater National, which launched in fall 2009.
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