Food is probably my favorite thing about traveling. I also enjoy museums, historical monuments and other fun tourist activities, but at the end of the day, what I’m really looking forward to is eating. So senior year of high school, when I decided to apply for a yearlong foreign exchange program, the world was my oyster. Would I be eating miso soup in Japan, croissants in France, or empanadas in Chile?
Well, for whatever reason, I only had one country in mind: Finland.
Something about Finland drew me in – the drama of the midnight sun, a consistently top-ranked public education system, and a language that seemed impossible. As for Finnish cuisine? I knew nothing. I guess that was part of the allure, too.
Over the year, my host family went out of their way to give me the authentic Finnish dining experience. This means that I ate a lot of dark rye bread (usually topped with cheese and cucumbers) and I drank a lot of coffee (Finland has the highest consumption of coffee per capita worldwide). My absolute favorite snack is "karjalanpiirakka," which is a thin rye crust filled with rice and covered in butter and hard boiled eggs. At Easter, my favorite dessert is mämmi, which is malted rye, traditionally stored in a birch box and served with cream. Looks weird, tastes weird, but is somehow extremely addictive. My food experiences also extended to the high school cafeteria, where all students are provided with a hot meal every day – free of charge – including salad bar, fresh milk and vegetarian options. The best days were when we had spinach and beet pancakes!
This kind of food may not be a "crowd-pleaser" and you’ll never see a Finnish restaurant opening up between Royal India Grill and La Iguana, but in the context of my host country, I came to love it. I'm sure it's due in large part to memories of eating this food amongst friends and family, but I also like it just for its novelty: a unique taste palate based on obscure root vegetables, wild Nordic berries, weird uses of rye, and lots of pickled herring.
There’s just one problem in my love story with Finland: salmiakki.
Salmiakki is black licorice salted with ammonium chloride. I think it's disgusting. But for whatever reason, this is THE national candy of Finland, and if you ever happen to find yourself in Helsinki or Oulu or Tampere, you will be forced to try some.
I was reminded of salmiakki during our class discussion on the meaning of food and how it is so strongly linked to cultural identity. Loving salmiakki is basically a prerequisite for being Finnish. And, as I learned, the national pastime is giving salmiakki to foreigners and waiting for their reactions. Every time I was given some (whether in candy, gum or schnapps form), it was like a test of my Finnishness. They wanted me to experience the same joy they get from it; for them, it tastes like childhood, like home. So watching me gag and spit it out became a reaffirmation of both my foreignness and their own Finnishness – some sort of cool Scandinavian club that I will never be able to join.
And I'm not the only one. A few years ago, a Finnish candy company launched a campaign for a new salmiakki-flavored ice cream bar. The slogan? "World’s most hated – Finland's most loved." My friends sent me the link to the ad, which shows pretty clearly the stark contrast between the taste palate of foreigners and Finns. Note: "This tastes Finnish."
When my friends visit me in America, they unfailingly bring a present of salmiakki candy. They still want to believe I can be converted to their salty black brand of national pride. Or, I have this new theory that they already know I’m not going to eat it, so they just bring it for themselves. It is very common for Finns traveling abroad to bring their own personal stash of salmiakki, their own little reminder of home.
And I respect that. As much as I hate the taste, I love salmiakki in my own way. Finland became a second home, and even though I don't have those childhood memories of growing up surrounded by salmiakki, I have my own fond associations. It reminds me of my friends, families and city: it reminds me of my year as an exchange student and the fact that, even though that has become a part of me, I am forever attached to my identity as an American, with all the taste preferences that implies.
No comments:
Post a Comment