Meat Free Week 2 and it's Eurovision!

The first meatless week was undeniably difficult, filled with moments of weakness, internal debates about justifiable excuses to resort to munching on meat and the odd outbreak of canine slobbering when I was faced with the hypnotic smells emerging from a slab of meat sizzling on a grill. But now, 14 days into the veggie challenge, I think I've cracked it: I no longer hanker for meat products in the same compulsive style that a lovesick individual would long for the object of their affections.

Don't get me wrong: I still get cravings for food things. Being irredeemably greedy, I probably always will. The difference is that I've started to hunger for good wholesome vegetable fare. I want to keep eating those excellent bean burgers over and over again. I keep my head buried in various sources of interesting - i.e. no boring grey mush or unappetising meat substitutes of strange origin on the premises - veggie recipes, hoping to luck upon the next massively tasty, pleasantly textured treat. I've finally got my stomach to appreciate that although it's Sunday, it's not necessarily a crime to serve up a plateful of vegetables. During the current heat wave, I've passed people barbecuing things that would usually make me salivate without a second glance. I even appeared to experience a bit of an odour hallucination. When I was out running on Tuesday, my nostrils clocked an unmistakable whiff of grilling despite their being no cooking utensils in sight. What exactly did I smell? Griddled asparagus. Maybe I could actually get used to this meat-free existence.

Wearing the flag for Finland...even though we
didn't make the final, gutted!

The only spot of hesitation took place last night at the annual Eurovision party held by our friends. The idea is simple: to counter the frankly terrifying music and hysterically OTT stage shows, which seem to whizz through the equivalent of the entire Europe's monthly electricity consumption during one 3.5 hour blast of bright lights and pyrotechnics worthy of a hair metal video, with good food and plenty of drink. This year's theme - fittingly enough - was food from different parts of Europe. Unlike the country's contribution to the evening's music, the Spanish representative to the otherwise overwhelmingly green buffet table proved hard to resist, chorizo being one of my very favourite meaty items. But thanks to my newly found steely willpower and dedication to a veggie diet, I passed the tempting bowl of chorizo with ease and grace. Although if I could eat with my eyes, there wouldn't have been a slice left for anyone else...

Potato Salad

Predictably enough, when invited to whip up European fare for the Eurovision party that's become an annual tradition, we decided to opt for Finnish food stuffs. It seemed necessary: with Finland booted out of the final (probably a good thing, considering the toe-curling awfulness of previous years' entries), it was the only way to ensure a drop of home during the evening's proceedings. The success rate of our offerings proved variable. Although delicious, the traditional Karelian pies (rye-and-rice pastries) whipped up by the Mrs (a bona fide honorary Finn after this baking feat), served with artery-clogging slabs of egg butter, proved just a bit too foreign for some, leaving me to mop up most of the eggy mess, my reward being a persistent bellyache. This potato salad, however, was a hit. Granted, potato salad isn't an exclusively Finnish dish, but as this is based on my mum's recipe, it always makes me think of home.

Ingredients (enough for a big bowl)

• 750g of small potatoes (such as salad potatoes or the super-tasty Jersey Royals)
• A generous bunch of dill (finely chopped, to taste)
• 3-4 tbsp rapeseed or olive oil
• 2 tbsp white wine vinegar (red wine vinegar will work, too)
• 1 heaped tbsp Dijon mustard
• A good pinch of ground white pepper
• Salt, black pepper (to taste)     

How to make

This salad really couldn't be any easier if it cooked and assembled itself! Start by boiling your potatoes in lightly salted water. Keep an eye on the taters - you want them to be cooked through, but still firm enough to not turn into mush when you cut into them. Once the potatoes are cooked, cool them under cold water and set aside to dry for a few minutes.

Once the potatoes are cool enough to handle, chop them into bite-size chunks. Place these into a roomy bowl and add other ingredients. Mix everything together thoroughly and serve! If you want to add a bit of extra flavour and crunch, finely chopped red or spring onion or roughly chopped gherkins work well with the salad, but it really is best to keep this one as simple as possible and let the potatoes hog the spotlight.      

From the Mrs: Karelian Pies and Egg Butter

I know...sounds foreign doesn't it?  I first encountered the Karelian Pie at Janne's Uncle's house...he sat me down and presented me with a range of strange looking food and then the whole family watched the shy British girl as she timidly took her first bites of Finnish food. Luckily this is one of my favourite activities when travelling and my love for food means that I'm quite willing to try anything, although I draw the line at rotten fish, which I'm told is a bit of a smelly delicacy in Scandinavia.

The Karelian Pie topped with egg butter was the most foreign looking thing on the table, but I found once I got stuck in it's actually really nice and over the years I'm always happy to see a nice, warm Karelian Pie on the menu. However,  when Janne presented me with the recipe and asked me to have a go at making them I have to admit I was slightly worried. Surprisingly these are really easy to make, although I would recommend serving them warm as they become a bit tough and chewy when cold. Having accomplished this I'm told that I'm "now a proper Finnish Wife!"

Ingredients

Rice Filling

·         340g of short grain pudding rice or all-purpose white rice

·         500ml of water

·         500ml of milk

·         1 tsp of salt

·         1tbsp of butter

Dough

·         250g of rye flour

·         55g of plain flour

·         1tsp salt

·         200ml of water

·         2tbsp of melted butter

Egg Butter

·         8 hard boiled eggs

·         150g of salted butter

Preheat oven to 200c/400f/gas mark 6

Line a baking sheet with greaseproof paper

Add the water to a pan and throw in the rice. Bring to the boil and then turn down the heat and allow to cook until all of the water has absorbed. Stir occasionally.

Next add the milk and bring to the boil, reduce the heat and allow to simmer stirring occasionally until the rice is cooked. When the milk has absorbed stir in the butter and season with a bit of salt.

Combine all of the flour and salt and stir in the cold water. Mix together to make a dough and knead until all of the ingredients have bound together and the dough is even. Roll the dough into a log shape and cut into 20 even pieces. Roll each piece of dough into a ball on a floured surface, flatten with your hand and set aside.

Next ensure your work surface is floured and roll each flattened piece of dough into an oval shape about 6 inches long and wide. Try and roll the dough as thinly as possible. Fill each oval with the rice mixture (about two tablespoons)and spread evenly. Leaving about 2 inches of dough around the sides. Fold the dough inwards over the rice and pinch the dough together with your fingers.

Place each pie on the lined baking tray and brush with a little melted butter. Bake in the preheated oven for 10-15minutes, remove from oven and brush with more melted butter, return to the oven for a further 5 minutes if the pies aren't already golden brown.

Allow to cool slightly before serving.

 To make the egg butter, whip the softened butter and mash the eggs. Mix the two together and season if required. Allow to cool in the fridge and then spread on top of the slightly cooled Karelian Pies.

Meat-free Month: Week 1

The decision to give up meat for a month isn't hard to make. Actually sticking to the pledge and keeping away from poultry, meat and fish isn't that tricky either: most of the time, I'd much rather munch on veggies and fruit anyway.

What makes the challenge difficult is knowing that you simply can't, say, whip up a sausage sandwich should you happen to fancy one at some point. It reminds me of quitting smoking (although obviously I've not given up an illness-spewing, addictive poison this time around...unless we're talking about the more intensively processed end of the meat industry). Back when I was quitting, I was quite happy not to smoke, but the awareness that this newfound state of smoke-free being was for keeps made me crave a cigarette like never before. It's a bit like a child whipping up a tantrum when they can't have their own way: you always want what you know you can't have the most.

The small everyday trials don't help. On my first lunchtime sandwich run since the start of the meatless month, I ended up standing next to a huge slab of roast pork (and all the trimmings) moments after finding out the cafe had ran out of ingredients for anything even borderline appetising from the limited veggie menu. I could swear the piece of meat was winking at me temptingly while I waited for my dull egg mayo sandwich, assembled simultaneously to a colleague's mouth-watering high quality ham salad. The local shops seemed suddenly keen to offer all of my favourite meat and fish things at ridiculously low prices when I popped in for the oh-so-green ingredients for yet another stir fry. I started to fear being offered a meaty meal when visiting a friend's house, staging an internal debate about whether it was worse to turn down hospitality (how rude!) or take a momentary break from the veggie drive (so spineless!).  Gradually I began to understand why dogs risk breaking their necks to sniff in every particle of a passing meaty fragrance: the smell of meat cooking is hypnotic in a way that, say, the mild odours emerging from a freshly chopped carrot can never hope to be.

Some things have helped keep us on the straight and narrow. We've wasted hours glued to such Food Network classics as 'Diners, Drive-INS and Dives' and 'Heat Seekers', both of which specialise in vegetable-dodging culinary nightmares served in ludicrously generous XXL, fat-dripping portions. An eyeful of, say, a greasy chilli burger the size of a small child served with a lorry-load of fries makes that boring salad look pretty appealing. Yesterday I was breathing in the plain meaty smells of the stew my mother-in-law was whipping up for a spice-and flavour-averse elderly relative. It was a bona fide meat feast, and I was VERY happy to keep well away from the gray and brown mess simmering in the pot. 

Most importantly, we've been able to eat well all week despite - or is that because of? - sticking to vegetables. Mexican bean burgers with homemade salsa and a spinach curry that substitutes the off-limits chicken with, well, more spinach made sticking to veggies seem like a treat as opposed to a chore, but the real star of the week has been asparagus. As long as there are such fine greens around, who needs meat?      

Brilliant bean burgers with pepper salsa and yogurt sauce

Beans. I know what you're thinking. Boring. Wind-inducing. Flavourless, right? Well, wrong, actually. The biggest discovery this week has been this amazing - if I may say so myself - recipe for veggie burgers, combined from a variety of sources into one big bundle of bean-heavy goodness. I can honestly say I prefer the flavours of these bean concoctions to our usual weekend staple, turkey burgers: tastier, with a more pleasant texture (not to mention ridiculously cheap), and also less fatty and less filling, meaning I can munch on more without feeling like a balloon that has been inflated well past the point of optimal fullness afterwards.  Which is kind of the point of the meat-free challenge: breaking free from the automatic assumption that to eat well, it's necessary to involve meat.

Ingredients (enough for 2 huge burgers and a big pot of salsa)

For the burgers

• 1 400g tin of kidney beans, drained and washed
• 1 small onion, finely chopped
• 1 clove of garlic, finely chopped
• 1 red chilli, finely chopped
• A small bunch of coriander, stalks and leafs finely chopped
• 1 egg
• 50g of breadcrumbs
• 1/3 tsp cayenne pepper
• 1 tsp ground cumin
• 1/2 tsp ground coriander
• 1/3 tsp ground cinnamon
• Salt, black pepper
• 2 burger buns

For the salsa

• 1 small red pepper
• 1 small yellow pepper
• 1/4 red onion
• 1/4 cucumber
• A good glug of olive oil
• 1 clove of garlic
• 1 - 2 red chillies (to taste. Fans of hot food may want to add 1/2 tsp of dried chilli flakes)
• Juice of 1 lemon
• 1 tsp paprika
• Salt, black pepper
• For the yogurt sauce
• 1 small pot of natural yogurt
• A small bunch of fresh coriander, finely chopped
• Juice of 1/2 lime
• Sprinkling of ground cumin
• Salt, black pepper

How to make

Start by roughly mashing your drained and washed beans in a large bowl with a potato masher. Add your other ingredients and mix together well. Shape the resulting 'dough' into two large burger-shaped patties and place on a baking tray or a plate to rest. A tip: rub a thin layer of olive oil on your hands to avoid excessive stickiness.

While the burgers rest, make your salsa. This couldn't be any easier. Simple chuck all the ingredients into a blender and mix together until you have a rough salsa consistency. If the results are too runny for your liking (the water in the cucumber can make things a bit sloppy), strain the salsa with a finely meshed colander.

Make the yogurt sauce by mixing all the ingredients in a bowl and whisking well.

Heat a griddle pan to medium heat. Rub some olive oil on both sides of your burgers and fry for approximately 5 minutes per side, until nice and golden.

Serve on burger buns, the insides of which have been briefly seared on the griddle pan for extra crunch. Pour some salsa on the burger, top with a bit of fresh green salad, spoon over a bit of yogurt sauce and enjoy. I promise the results will make you forget that daft old song about beans being the magical fruit/the more you eat, the more you...well, you know the rest!

Asparagus and Potato Frittata

This amazingly tasty egg-and-veg dish was inspired by a recipe I spotted in a magazine. However, those instructions focused on peas which, with all due respect, are one of those rare vegetables that would make me groan with disappointment when spotted on a plate and, under the current circumstances, might just make the nearest piece of meat glow with an irresistible juiciness. Enter asparagus, however, and the results were pure enough to convert the staunchest of meat feasters. A word of advice: don't hurry with this one. The longer you allow those onions to cook, the sweeter the results.

Ingredients (enough to serve four)

• 1 large onion, halved and cut into thin slices
• 500g small potatoes, boiled until softened and cut into slices after boiling
• A medium-sized bunch of asparagus, boiled for approximately three minutes
• A good bunch of fresh thyme or mint
• 6 eggs
• 50 - 100g goat's cheese  
• Salt
• Black pepper
• Olive oil
• A knob of butter

How to make

Start by boiling your potatoes. You'll want them to be soft but not too soft - basically you're looking for potatoes that will hold together when you slice then after cooking. They will cook through on the pan later so don't worry about occasional harder bits. Allow the potatoes to cool after cooking. Once cool enough to handle, cut into relatively thin slices.

Slice the onion. Heat approximately one tablespoon of olive oil on a large frying pan and cook the onions on low heat until softened and golden. Add the potatoes, thyme (or mint), a good sprinkling of black pepper and another of salt, mix everything together and cook on medium heat until the potatoes are slightly browned all around. Keep stirring things on the pan to ensure your veggies end up nice and golden all around.

While the potatoes and onions are cooking, prepare your asparagus. Cut off the woody ends of the stalks. Snap off the tips and place in colander. Cut the remaining stalks in half. Wash and place in a pan of boiling water and cook for approximately 3 minutes. You want the asparagus to be softened but not fully cooked.

Add a knob of butter to the pan. Tip in your parboiled asparagus. Move everything on the pan and cook for approximately 5 minutes. In the meantime, break the eggs into a bowl and whisk until the egg whites and yolks are mixed together. Add to the pan, ensuring that the vegetables and eggs are mixed properly and the egg is spread evenly on the pan. Heat your grill to medium heat. Cook for approximately 10 minutes on low to medium heat, until you can tell the frittata has become solid on the bottom. Sprinkle in the goat's cheese. Place under the grill for approximately 5 minutes to cook the remaining runny bits on the top. Serve with a fresh salad and a few slices of a nice bread. 

No meat for a month!



As anyone who's been following this blog may have figured out by now, I like vegetables. Fruit, too. In fact, diet-wise, I'd quite happily swap places with any animal that feeds mainly on pineapple, should such a creature exist.  I wouldn't complain too much if I had to munch on meals consisting entirely of members of the cabbage family either, provided they had been treated with sufficient care, as opposed to having been boiled to the edge of disintegration and beyond.

Even so, giving up meat for four whole weeks sounds quite scary. We're not just talking about red meat - in fact, that would mean practically zero changes to the usual cooking habits. For the next month, poultry and fish will also be barred from the kitchen. It's a project we've been talking about for months now, inspired in part by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's excellent book and TV series centred on a similar challenge. Plain logic also contributed to the idea: since we already follow a vegetable-based diet between Monday and Thursday, how hard can it be to give up on meat altogether for a limited amount of time? Not very hard at all, we figured, but now as the date is fast approaching - the challenge starts on Monday May 14 - I feel a slight twinge of nerves. Will we end up subsisting on various unappetising Quorn products? How long until bacon is ruled to be a vegetarian food item? Will the flavour of vegetables dull into a mush if there is nothing else on the menu, leading to a return to our grisly past feeding habits? On a more positive angle, how much of a difference will not chewing on meat make to how we feel and the cost of the weekly shop?

Stocking up on beef before the meat drought!

We'll soon find out. Find out how the challenge progresses (or not) right here. As for now, I'm off to prepare for a veggie month by loading up on meat-rich dishes...beef for lunch, chicken for dinner. Sounds about right.

Vegetable Variety Show stir fry

This flexible stir-fry is an excellent way to get a few portions of your five-a-day on one tasty plate. It's also brilliant for making use of leftover vegetables: basically any greens - and even evil old mushrooms (despite recent signs of a truce, me and mushrooms remain involved in a longstanding feud) - will fit in just fine. Flavour-wise, that list of ingredients might sound a bit plain, but it's surprisingly rich in flavour...sometimes too much so, when I've been too generous with the ginger...whilst not being too tangy to scare of spice sceptics. In fact, this is one dish that my usually spice/exotic flavours-averse mother-in-law  really, really likes, which is recommendation enough.

I sometimes substitute the broccoli with white cabbage, which works just as well...As mentioned earlier, almost any (i.e. no sprouts) vegetable will work with this one! Even better, after the inevitable work-intensive chopping, this dish basically cooks itself.

Ingredients (makes plenty for two)

• Dried medium or thick egg noodles (use one 'nest' of noodles per diner)
• Soy sauce - to taste
• A thumb-sized piece of fresh ginger, finely chopped
• 1 large clove of garlic, finely chopped
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 1 large carrot, cut into thin slices
• 1 broccoli, cut into chunks and parboiled for 2-3 minutes
• Half a bag of beanshoots
• 1-2 tablespoons of vegetable or groundnut oil.
• Optional:
• 1 - 2 fresh red chillies, finely chopped
• 1 tablespoon of toasted sesame oil        

How to make

The important thing is to have all your ingredients ready before you fire up the wok pan or large frying pan.

So, start by chopping your vegetables, onion, garlic and ginger, not forgetting to parboil the broccoli for just a minute or a few if you're using it. Set aside. Boil your noodles by following the instructions on the packet - usually, four minutes is enough and with thinner noodles it could take even less time. Make sure you don't have to reach too far for the soy sauce and sesame oil (if using).

Once all your ingredients are ready to be stir fried, heat up the oil in the pan. Start by stir frying the onion for a few minutes, until lightly brown. Next, throw in the sliced carrots, ginger and garlic and fry for a few minutes. It's important to keep the vegetables moving on the pan - you don't want to burn anything, but the pan needs to be reasonably hot for the stir frying to work properly. Next, add your main vegetable - broccoli or cabbage - and the soy sauce (and sesame oil is using). Fry for a few minutes, moving the veggies constantly on the pan, until the broccoli or cabbage has softened slightly (you can tell this is working when the vegetables shrink a bit). Throw in the beanshoots and fry for two minutes, followed by the boiled and drained noodles. Add more soy sauce if you want to, plus a generous sprinkling of black pepper. Mix everything together, turn off the heat and serve immediately - this dish has a bad habit of going cold relatively quickly so avoid delays in dishing up. It may well look a bit unappetising - basically a brown mess with some green and orange bits peeping out - but that flavour...anything but dull! Who needs meat, eh?

From the Mrs: Mojito Time!

My Brother-in-law Matt introduced me to the Mojito a few years ago and since then I've been hooked and on a mission to find a place that makes the perfect Mojito. In Helsinki last year I made Janne trawl the streets with me in my search for a Mojito...we found a bar tucked away on a back street...an actual Mojito bar with an entire menu. This was very exciting until they served up a seven euro Mojito in a tiny glass with what seemed to be no rum at all. Whilst I stuck with a classic Mojito , Janne braved the very feminine looking pink grapefruit Mojito and spent the rest of the night sucking up grapefruit pips through a straw. It wasn't good and I realised that perhaps I can do better.

Here in Yorkshire my friend was ordering Mojito's and was corrected by the very broad Yorkshire lady serving behind the bar. She asked for a "Mo-hee-toe" and the lady told her it was pronounced "Modge -ee-toe." So here our my three favourite Modgeetoes...however you want to pronounce it!

Ingredients

·         1 Lime

·         Fresh mint leaves (washed and picked from the stalk)

·         White rum

·         Sparkling mineral water

·         Ice  cubes

·         Sugar

·         Tall glass

·         Straw

Cut the lime into quarters and then slice the quarters again so they are smaller. Squeeze two of these into the bottom of the glass.

Next add about four mint leaves into the bottom of the glass and mash with a spoon and then add your rum...it's up to you how much you add. I usually add about a shot glass and a half in.

Next add your ice and the rest of the limes (un-squeezed!) and about eight mint leaves. Top up the glass with sparkling mineral water and add a heaped teaspoon of sugar.

Mix everything together with a spoon and taste, adjust the taste with more lime juice or more rum if you feel it needs it. Serve with a straw! Perfect for long summer evenings or a lazy summer afternoon.

Variations:  Why not try:

Champagne Mojito - Add the sparkling water and leave space to top up with champagne or prosecco.

Ginger Mojito - Replace the sparkling water with ginger ale.

From the Mrs: Raija's Vegetable and Blue Cheese Soup

Raija is Janne's step-mum. She doesn't speak English but I know that she understands me. Raija and Janne's dad Unto live out in the Finnish countryside. Life there is very different to what we are used to here. All of the toilets are compost, the water comes from a well and Raija bakes and cooks in a huge, old fashioned bread oven. It's like stepping back in time...until you walk into the living room and there's a big TV. At Raija and Unto's we always eat outside in the summer around a big wooden table. Raija cooks lots of food and we sit and eat, drink and talk (or in my case smile and nod). Last summer we sat and ate soup with dark rye bread, salads and cold meats, cheeses and ice cream for dessert. It's hard to restrain yourself from eating everything. I particularly liked the vegetable soup that she made, it's light enough to enjoy in the summer and warming in the winter, the blue cheese adds a great flavour and it's really simple to make...so simple that even I can make it!


Ingredients

Look out for a stew pack of vegetables in the supermarket - they usually come with carrots, parsnip, turnip and onion and cost £1 - fantastic!

1/2 pint of Chicken or vegetable stock

 

Small wedge of blue cheese such as stilton

Salt and pepper

How to Cook

Peel and chop all of your vegetables and place in a big pan. Make up 1/2 pint of chicken or vegetable stock and pour over the vegetables. You may need to top up with water to make sure all of the vegetables are covered with water.

Bring to the boil and cook the vegetables until completely soft.

Once the vegetables are cooked blitz the vegetables and stock in a blender or with a hand blender.

Janne in a silly hat with Unto

Chop the blue cheese and add pieces to the soup...this is where you need to keep tasting the soup, I like a hint of blue cheese so I usually just add just a few lumps, whereas Janne likes it to taste strong. Mess about with it and add as much as you like. Blend after each addition. The flavour will come through more once heated so don't go mad.

An even sillier hat with
Janne's step-brother Jussi

Season with salt and pepper.

Heat through but do not bring to the boil.

Finnish meatballs with vodka-dill gravy, mash and slow-cooked red cabbage

As with old school British cooking, a handful of - from a modern viewpoint - truly scary dishes (hello, haggis and steak and kidney pudding) are accompanied by several others that, cooked well, remain delicious decade after decade. Such as meatballs, for example. This recipe, adapted from Jane Lawson's brilliant 'Snowflakes and Schnapps', closely follows vintage Scandinavian recipes...with a few unexpected twists and an accompaniment of drool-inducing slow-cooked red cabbage. 

Ingredients: enough for 2 immense portions, or 4 medium ones.

For the balls:

500g of pork or beef mince - whichever you prefer

1 onion, very finely chopped

1 clove of garlic, very finely chopped

Breadcrumbs - a good handful

Cream - a few glugs

Allspice - a generous pinch

Nutmeg - a good grating of

Salt

Black pepper

(optional: dried and chopped forest mushrooms)

For the gravy:

A knob of butter

Flour - 1 tablespoon

Chicken or beef stock - half a pint or so, depending on how thick you want the gravy to be

Cream - to taste

A glug of vodka

A generous bunch of dill, finely chopped

For the mash:

Potatoes (surprise!) - peeled and quartered

A knob of butter

A good glug of milk

A generous pinch of white pepper

Black pepper

Salt

For the red cabbage:

Half a head of red cabbage, roughly chopped

1 - 2 apples, roughly chopped

Oil and/or butter

1 onion, finely chopped

1 tablespoon fennel seeds

A generous glug of balsamic vinegar

How to cook:

Firstly: don't panic! I realise that's a massive list of ingredients, but all this is easier than it looks. The cabbage and potatoes will take care of themselves after initial preparation, and the gravy could barely be any easier if it cooked itself.

Start with the Balls. Mix all ingredients in a bowl and, hands freshly washed (hint: pour a bit of oil on your mitts prior to sticking your hands in the dough to avoid excessive stickiness), stir and squeeze for a good few minutes, until you have a truly appetising mess of meat and other ingredients, all of it mixed well together. After this, roll the mixture into evenly sized meatballs. Place the balls on a baking tray and place in the fridge for at least an hour so the flavours have time to develop.

In the meantime, peel and quarter your potatoes and place in a large pan, ready for boiling.

Move on to the cabbage. Chop the red cabbage, onion and apple(s). Approximately 30 minutes before your Balls are ready to go on the pan, place all three ingredients in a roomy pan with a good glug of oil or a knob of butter (I prefer a combination of both). Chuck in the fennel seeds, a pinch of salt and black pepper and a good glug of balsamic vinegar, and leave to simmer on low heat for approximately an hour, stirring regularly - if at appears too dry, pour in more vinegar. The result is well worth the wait, I promise!

Just before you're about to start cooking the Balls, put the potatoes on boil.

Heat a good glug of oil, a knob of butter or a bit of both on a large frying pan. Once hot, place the Balls in the pan. Be careful not to overcrowd them - you may need to do this in two batches. Cook the Balls for about 10 minutes, depending on size - the bigger they are, the longer you'll need. The aim is to get them nicely browned on all sides.

Once this is done, let the Balls rest in a bowl. In the meantime, place a knob of butter on the pan you cooked the Balls in. Once the butter's melted, add the flour and make sure you scrape in any leftover meatball scraps from the bottom of the pan. Stir thoroughly, and gradually pour in your stock and cream. Keep stirring. Add a glug of vodka (when in Finland, do as the Finns do...) and a good handful of fresh, chopped dill, and bring to boil. Keep stirring until the gravy has thickened a bit. Add the Balls that have been resting for a while, and keep simmering on a soft boil for approximately 15 minutes, or until the Balls are fully cooked and you have a nice, thick gravy.

By now, your potatoes should have boiled. Drain them thoroughly in a colander and place back in the pan. Add the spices, butter and milk, and mash until you have a nice silky (as in 'unlumpy'!) texture. Put a lid on to keep them warm.

And that's it, really - you're ready to plate up. I can guarantee that the outcome will be worth the effort - these are strictly not factory-made Ikea meatballs! Enjoy. 

Antlers, fish-cocks and lots of salt: food in Finland

For the non-initiated, traditional Finnish cuisine may appear slightly terrifying. Or how do delicacies such as Fish-Cock ('kalakukko': a dense grouping of 'muikkus' (similar to sprats) parked next to a generous dollop of strictly full-fat lard inside a rye crust) or 'Mammi' - an Easter treat conjured of rye flour, syrup and sugar, resembling what happens after eating rather than something actually edible - sound like to you? We're also fond of eating reindeer, which is plentiful in the northernmost parts of the country. In the UK, this cute antlered beast is best known from their close partnership with Santa Claus.

Fish-Cock (Kalakukko)

In Finland, you're likely to find reindeer meat chopped up and cooked with beer and dill to create one of the country's signature dishes, the delicious reindeer stew. You can also get excellent reindeer meatballs which, alongside fried sprats and potatoes (Finnish fish and chips!) we sampled at the Kauppatori marketplace on our last trip to Helsinki. Finnish sausages are also a bit of a strange concoction. In the UK, banger-makers pride themselves on including as much meat as possible in their produce. Finnish sausage makers, on the other hand, appear determined to dodge actual meat content whenever possible, resulting in a doughy, brown/yellow mush that's really only edible in the outdoors, straight from the grill or a fireplace, coated in excellent Finnish hot mustard to oomph up a sausage taste that's so subtle it's barely even there. And let's not forget Finnish rye bread, a densely textured, heavy and dark product that may at first seem better-suited for, say, hammering in nails than eating for the non-initiated - and completely addictive for those in the know. There's also a bewildering variety of cured fish on offer, a mouthwatering feast of seafood made only marginally less appealing by the stratospheric price of most fish in Finland.   

 

But really, old school Finnish cooking is really not that different from its UK counterpart. Put simply, everything is based on stews: classic Karelia Stew back home - meat and carrots cooked with black peppercorns and bay leaves - is virtually indistinguishable from the stuff that ends up inside a beef pie here. Which is understandable: with a perma-frosted Winter that tends to drag on for half an eternity, followed up by a Spring that's prone to being interrupted by blizzards, it's no surprise people back home have drifted towards hearty, warming fare as opposed to, say, salads. Just as in the UK, go back a good few decades, and the only acceptable flavourings you'll find are salt (lots of salt. And then just a sprinkling more salt), butter, cream and - at a push - black or white pepper...which may explain why Finns used to be plagued by coronary disease. Things have moved on since then. It's now possible to sample all sorts of cuisine in Finland, with supermarkets stocking a wide range of ingredients (and strange quirks - it's quite difficult to find cuts of meat that haven't been doused in a sticky marinade, a bit of a headache for anyone who likes to mess around with their own flavour combinations), and the selection of vegetables isn't limited to potatoes, swedes and other root veggies that can just about hope to survive the Finnish winter. But the classics remain and prosper, and will most likely do so for as long as people back home gather around the kitchen table at meal times.