Yesterday, I was shocked to discover that Jason had never tried blue cheese before. I mean, seriously, how is such a thing possible? For someone who loves cheese like I do, to be denied this source of pleasure is impossible to fathom. I was determined to rectify the situation as quickly as possible. Little did I know that today would provide the perfect opportunity.
Plans for today were delightfully vague. We were going to meet KSP and Jonas at midday, in an ICA car park, just off the roundabout at Torsby. I was a bit concerned that these instructions were a little bit lacking in detail but I was wrong to be worried. There is only the one roundabout in Torsby and the ICA is massive. As we pulled into the car park, the pair of them were sitting on a bench waiting for us.
Like a contestant in some sort of adventure reality TV show, I was handed a map and shown where we were headed. I studied the text, conveniently printed along one edge. I struggled to translate it. It took me a while to realize it was actually written in English. I later explained that this was an indication that my Swedish was improving.
We once more climbed into our cars and headed west, towards the Finnish part of western Sweden. And the nearby Norwegian border.
Our first stop was at Hembygdsgården Karmenkynna, just slightly south of the tiny village of Lekvattnet.
It was here that we were to try the famous weird oaty porridge stuff that the Forest Finns bought to this part of Sweden back in the 16th century when king Gustav Vasa offered them free land in exchange for their farming practices.
Of course, the Finns were actually Swedish citizens at the time, having been part of Sweden since the 13th century. In fact, as Jonas explained, it was compulsory for the Finnish people to learn Swedish as they grew up.
Anyway, it wasn’t just the Finns included in the original offer. Native Swedes could also take advantage of it. The king offered them 6-15 years of tax exemption if they’d come and cut down the forests and plant up the land in these, largely, empty areas of Sweden. Even with this tempting sweetener, there wasn’t a lot of interest.
Until the Finns from Savo heard about it.
They favoured the slash and burn technique and were soon hard at it, reducing the forests to ashes and ploughing the land in order to produce great piles of rye. The crown then garnered a lot of tax by selling the rye to the general popualtion.
Of course, the Forest Finns’ form of farming was not appreciated by everyone and the powerful mining lobby, who believed that the forest should provide them with charcoal instead, approached the state to have the Finns stopped. The state agreed and the Finns stopped coming.
Then there was the issue of ‘stray Finns’. These were Finns who worked seasonally at the farmsteads, wandering between them, poaching in the off season, impregnating willing maidens, and, generally, being a nuisance as far as some people were concerned. It was so bad that in 1636, Queen Kristina decreed that any stray Finn found to be straying would be either sent back to Finland or be drafted into the army in order to be killed in some far off land.
But, to return to the Finns that stayed and settled down to a life of tax-free farming, the small settlements would subsist on the rye grain harvested from the ashes of the forest, pork and berries. Each group bred pigs that could scrounge for food in the forests before they were burnt. Both the forest and the pigs, in some cases.
It was this, traditional meal we were there to try.
Having filled our plates with a pile of weird oaty stuff, lingonberry jam, hunks of pork and ladles of pig fat, we sat outside to enjoy our lunch. Or to not enjoy our lunch in Jason’s case. He says he’s completely in the Nicoline camp when it comes to the weird oaty stuff. In my brief experience, it marks the first time he’s rejected food.
Okay, to be clear, it wasn’t the pork and jam he didn’t like. He does enjoy his meat after all. No, it was the weird oaty stuff. It’s called nävgröt or motti and looks a bit like cous-cous. It’s also very dry and bland which is why the pig fat is so important.
Contrary to Jason’s opinion, I loved it. It was a meal worthy of a Weasel and I went back for more. This made KSP and Jonas very happy. And my tummy. Mirinda also had seconds.
It was also at this wonderful restaurant in the middle of nowhere that KSP ran into an old friend. While not unusual, this was to prove the first in a number of times today. Possibly the oddest, and one that left her so flabbergasted that she said glabberfasted, was running into a woman she works with back in Trosa.
I think it proves that KSP knows everyone. And I discovered how she does it. She goes up to random people and asks them questions, which they happily answer with as much detail as possible. It’s that simple and a tribute to her amazingly friendly personality.
For instance, she asked this group of girls about their choice of wardrobe.
I reckon the next time KSP is in the area, these girls will treat her like they’ve known her for years. KSP has an extraordinary capacity for friendship. I love that about her.
The girls in the above photo were at the next place we visited: Finnskogens Landscap, just a short drive from Hembygdsgården Karmenkynna, actually in the tiny village of Lekvattnet. Jonas had suggested attending a lecture on Forest Finn folklore and Mirinda was very enthusiastic. Given her Swedish is far superior to mine, I decided I’d find a pub and wait for them to finish.
Lekvattnet is very small. It has the museum, a closed church and a cheese shop. The latter had been recommended by Maria, one of KSP’s many regional friends. Obviously, we had to go in and buy Jason some blue cheese. And a few other cheeses, naturally, including a very powerful mature goats cheese that remains on one’s tastebuds long after eating it.
Needless to say, there wasn’t a pub.
The small museum was a delight. It featured small displays of the techniques employed by the Forest Finns. It also had a receptionist that KSP is great friends with. I should add that KSP didn’t know this friend worked there before we went in. It was a big surprise for them both.
There were also a few delightful woodland creatures.
Eventually, KSP, Jonas and Mirinda headed into the lecture space while Jason and I decided to visit the church. Only the church was locked up tight as a drum. Maybe the local priest was at the lecture. Maybe the church is never open.
Whatever the reason, it was a shame because, according to the information board outside, it contains some promising artefacts like a retable dating from 1697 and a pulpit from 1670. These were added to the church which wasn’t built until 1850 as a result of the church deciding that the Forest Finns needed a bit of spiritual guidance. And their own parishes.
Interestingly, the churchyard predates the church by four years, although the first person buried in it waited until 1930. He was Per Larsson. I have no idea how no-one appears to have died in the parish for over 80 years.
Anyway, the church is wooden and painted red. It’s also another in the long list of churches I’ve not been able to see the inside of. Surprisingly, it has an attached belfry.
Eventually, the lecture finished and we were all together again. It should be proudly stated that Jonas answered one of the questions from the audience when the lecturer didn’t know the answer. It was about eels and, Mirinda said, was probably excellent.
Back in the car park, we hatched a mad plan to go to Norway. The vote was unanimous. We climbed into the cars and headed further west.
To be fair, the border was only about ten minutes drive away along the same road so it was an opportunity too good to pass up. Also, Jason was keen to visit another country, and we’d not been to Norway since our trip in 2001. It had to be done. And it proved a delightful diversion.
There’s a family restaurant in the small Norwegian village of Øyermoen called Minimäki. It’s not been open very long, and the owners were delighted to meet three Australians. In fact, the woman behind the counter went into shock when Mirinda told her where we were from. Personally, I was more surprised that KSP didn’t run into anyone she knew.
Along with some excited chat, we enjoyed bowls of deliciously creamy ice cream. Sadly, we didn’t get to sample the traditional dish of silppu which sounded superbly rustic and tummy filling.
According to their website,
Silppu is a traditional Finnish dish consisting of potatoes, pork, milk and onions, served with homemade cranberry jam picked in the Finnish forest. Silppu is a very powerful diet, typical for hardworking people.
Available online at: https://www.minimaki.no/mat
I think we’ll have to return to try that out.
After a bit of kerfuffle (or ferkuffle as KSP would possibly say) around taking a massive group photo that excluded Jonas who had escaped to the toilet, we headed back to Sweden after some prolonged goodbye wishes.
It was the final stop on our day of unexpected delights. It shows, as Mirinda said, the benefits of no itinerary.
PS: Jason tried some of the blue cheese back at the house and said he liked it way more than the mature goat. Mirinda agreed. Looks like Gary will be eating the rest of the mature goat. Not that Gary minds one bit.
