Finnish Food - Threat or Possibility?

Moi, everyone 😊!

Last time in the blog I talked about what places to see in Helsinki, Finland, if you're only spending 24 hours in the capital city. This time, as promised, I'll delve into the fascinating world of Finnish food... well, sort of. Rather than actual dishes, I want to talk about the food items that I miss the most from my home country, and - lucky for you - they're all things that you can (and should) try if/when you visit Finland!

So, without further ado, let's get started!

Ruisleipä

O Brother. If there's one thing I miss from Finland besides family and friends, it's ruisleipä!

Ruisleipä translates to [advance announcement: this story will have a happy ending so just bear with me here] "rye bread!"

[cue the sad trombone]

Yes, I do realize that when you hear the words "rye bread," the first thing that springs to mind might not exactly be "Let's party like it's 1999," but ruisleipä is so much more than just bread: it's breakfast, lunch, and dinner all rolled into one, it's that rare combination of healthy and delicious, it's happiness in a bite... And, for us Finns living abroad, it's basically a religion.

Now, while you might have had something called "rye bread" in your country, I can assure you the Finnish ruisleipä is in a league of its own. The easy way you can tell it apart from its less worthy counterparts is by your post-first-bite reaction. If you go, "OMG! My whole life before this has been nothing but a lie! All the rest of the bread in the world is forever ruined for me!", you, my friend, have just sunk your teeth into the Muhammad Ali of all breads - ruisleipä.

If your reaction is anything less than that, either a) you are not eating ruisleipä but one of the wannabes (probably that weird wet bread with seeds), b) there's something seriously wrong with you, or c) you're my fiancé, who's reaction after his first bite of ruisleipä was a rather disappointing "It's nice." 🤦

Recently, though, his "It's nice" has been upgraded to "It's really nice," but I cannot completely rule out the possibility that my constant scowling at him while he's consuming this Finnish national treasure hasn't been partly responsible for that change of opinion.

Jälkiuunileipä - the best type of ruisleipä (no, I'm not being paid to say that)

Now, when you're a Finn living abroad and you're used to having to basically sell your kidney and sacrifice a virgin to get your hands on ruisleipä, it can feel a bit anticlimactic to come to Finland for a vacay and realize that you can just buy this Holy Grail of breads at any supermarket for less than two euros a bag 😲!

The supermarkets usually have a pretty good selection of different types of ruisleipä, and even though you cannot go wrong with any of them, the objectively best choice is the so-called jälkiuunileipä (see picture above), which is a tougher son of a b-word than the other types. That's very practical especially if you live abroad and someone sends you a care package from Finland (bless them!), because the bread doesn't go particularly bad - it just gets even tougher, just like a real Finn 💪!

However, as any superhero, ruisleipä too has it's kryptonite; even though it can find its way to you by air, land, and/or sea, the one thing this tough son of a b-word cannot survive is the feared and revered Mexican postal service. Considering that I get Christmas cards sent to me from Finland to Mexico in March, any ruisleipä that's sent to you to Mexico will have died of old age by the time it reaches you 👴.

Karelian pie (karjalanpiirakka)

Karelian pie is another food item I really miss. It's a traditional pasty from the region of Karelia with a crispy rye crust and a rice filling (oh dear, I'm getting withdrawal symptoms just by describing it to you).

Karelian pies (obviously)

There are two ways you can get your hands on this delicacy: you can make it (I've heard an urban tale that someone in the world has actually successfully managed that) but when I visit Finland, I just buy mine at the supermarket (Go on, person in that glass house - cast the first stone! I dare you.)

Karelian pies go great with munavoi, "eggbutter," which is.. well... egg mixed with butter (hence the unoriginal name), but there are other options to suit different diets as well, which I'm sure are equally delicious.

Finnish candy

Let's begin with a little anecdote. Years ago I was living in Luxembourg, where I was doing an internship. One day I had a conversation with a colleague of mine from a Southern European country (let's call her "Judy" to protect the innocent) that went something like this:

Me: "Hey, Judy! Do you know if the supermarkets are still open? I need to buy some candy."

Judy: "Candy? For yourself?"

Me: "Yes, for myself."

Judy: "Ah. You know, I liked candy once, too. And then I turned 8."


Touché, Judy! Touché!

In one short conversation, Judy not only managed to mock me but also be completely unresponsive! However, what she didn't realize is that the sad lady in this story is not Yours Truly but, in fact, Judy herself (plot twist!).

In Finland, a lot of people eat candy all the way into adulthood and beyond for one simple reason:

Candy in Finland is freaking awesome!!! (←yes, three exclamation points were warranted here)

Every since we're children, we're indoctrinated to the idea of something called lauantaipussi, "Saturday bag," which is basically a bag of candy that we buy every Saturday (as you can see, we're not big on pushing the creative envelope when it comes to naming things). When you get older, you'd think that you'd start eating less candy but actually the opposite happens. The bag that was once called a "Saturday bag" miraculously multiplies into a Sunday bag (because, of course, the last day of the weekend needs to be celebrated with candy), as well as a Monday bag (the week just started, so obviously you need to console yourself with candy), a Tuesday bag (it's a commonly known fact that Tuesday is the hardest day of the week; consolation - i.e. candy - is needed), a Wednesday bag (Wednesday is "the little Saturday" - it's time to celebrate i.e. eat candy), a Thursday bag (repeat of the "week is long and hard" excuse), and a Friday bag (the long work week is over at last - you deserve some candy), until you finally stop pretending, drop any and all references to weekdays and just call it "my candy fix of the day."

Also, it's a (more or less) scientifically proven fact that Finnish chocolate is one of the best chocolates in the world! If you don't believe me, you can read my previous post about how Finnish chocolate fared against the allegedly best chocolate in the world - Belgian chocolate.

Warning!

If you're a non-Finn visiting a Finnish friend, one thing that will happen with 100 percent certainty is that your host will try to feed you a type of candy called salmiakki. Now, to be clear, I for one have nothing against salmiakki - au contraire, I love it! But it does require an acquired taste, and I'm sorry to tell you, my friend, that unless you're a Finn or a Dutch, you will not have acquired it yet.

The sad truth behind why your host is offering you salmiakki in the first place is not out of the goodness of their heart, but to satisfy their own sick pleasure of seeing you gag. Don't fall for it! If you see a Finn is approaching you with black candy, either start evasive maneuvers immediately or embrace your adventurous spirit and go for it - but don't say I didn't warn you!

Salmiakki comes in many forms, including alcohol and ice cream (as in the photo)

Closing words

And there you have it! If you're a Finn living abroad, I'd be interested to know which food items (if any) you miss from home.

Also, if you want to know more about these or other types of Finnish food, I'm more than happy to share my wisdom 😊.

Comic Relief of the Day: This picture was taken in Finland. I thought that I was finally going to go to a Starbucks where they would know how to spell my name.
I thought wrong 😜

So, until next time...

moi moi!

A Day as a Tourist in My Own City (Helsinki, Finland)

A few months ago, my non-Finnish friends, who were planning to travel to Finland, asked me about tips and things to do in Helsinki, thinking that, as a Finn, I might have some amazing insight.

I had to really think about it. I haven't lived in the country for seven years, and, as much as I would like to think that everything has stayed the same, it hasn't. In seven years, my hometown has changed quite a bit.

That's why, during my travels to Finland a couple of weeks ago, I made it my mission to explore the capital city through the eyes of a tourist and make a list of things you can do in Helsinki in one day.

So, friends, based on my recent explorations, here are places I would visit if I had a chance to spend 24 hours in Helsinki as a tourist:

Kauppatori - Market Square

For me, a girl born and raised in Helsinki, the best part of the capital city has always been (and probably will always be) the Market Square (Kauppatori). Located in the center of Helsinki only a ten-minute walk from the Central Railway Station, the Market Square is a place where you can buy Finnish (and non-Finnish) berries, vegetables, and different pastries, such as lihapiirakka (meat pie) and munkkipossu (a type of doughnut with apple jam inside), as well as local arts and crafts like reindeer skin gloves and reindeer hides (basically anything reindeer) and other things.

The Market Square is not exactly a "hidden gem," as it's probably featured in most - if not all - Helsinki travel guide books and blogs. But although it does get its fair share of tourists, the market also attracts locals. It's a nice place just to walk around and take in the atmosphere, but if you get a chance, I do recommend trying Finnish strawberries and peas, which, in my humble opinion, just happen to be the best in the world (I'm obviously completely unbiased).

However, as with everything in life, sometimes you have to take the good with the bad. The bad in this case are the flocks of Hitchcockian seagulls flying around ominously, lustfully eyeing your food! If you're a bird phobe, the Market Square is unfortunately not a place for you. And if you're not a bird phobe, well, you just wait, as this place will turn you into one.

To be fair, most of the seagulls just fly low, screech, and sometimes poo on people, but there is always the occasional type A personality - or the poetic, misunderstood soul that decides that now is as good time as any to start asserting itself - that'll go straight for your food. During my explorations, I saw a young lady lose a battle with a seagull over a cinnamon roll, so if you do decide to eat or take out your food at the Market Square, I suggest you hold onto it for dear life and don't count your munkkipossus until you've safely exited the seagull zone. Also, if you are approached by one of these go-getter type seagulls, you are supposed to clap your hands together twice to shoo them away. I don't exactly know if that helps or not, but at least it's entertaining to everyone around you.

The seagull problem is well-recognized at the Market Square and the measures taken against it include (but are not limited to) a net...

Arrow in turquoise: the net
Red circle: the enemy

...and a bunch of fake black birds.

However, my guess is the seagulls have figured out long ago that the black birds are fake (at least they didn't seem to slow them down), and many of them just fly under the net, sooooo.... yeah. I imagine there's a lot of laughing and pointing at humans happening at the annual seagull conventions. 

Allas Sea Pool

My first time experiencing Allas Sea Pool was during my latest travels a couple of weeks ago.The place has been open for a few years now, but, for whatever reason, I haven't gotten around to visiting it before now.

Allas Sea Pool is situated near the Market Square by the harbor basin that the locals have given the inviting name Cholera Basin (some historical thing... don't ask!). For 14 euros, you get to swim in the pools, experience a Finnish sauna, and soak in the sun in one of the sun chairs (that is, when the sun actually bothers to make an appearance). If you don't want to buy a ticket, however, you can still enjoy the Allas Sea Pool restaurant, café, bar, and terraces.

As for the swimming pools, you've got three options:

If you want to prove that you've got as much sisu (perseverance, guts, stamina, etc.) as us Finns - who are more or less famously known for being tough sons of b-words -, you can dip into the seawater pool which is the same temperature as the Cholera Basin (a.k.a freaking cold!) as it comes from a nearby clean stream and is filtered for contaminants. And if you really want to prove what a bad-ass you are, the perfect time to go for a swim in the seawater pool is in the middle of January as Allas Sea Pool is open all year round (pictures or it didn't happen)!

You'll recognize the seawater pool by the beautiful murky greenish-brownish color of the water

For those of us who have nothing to prove (me) or who hate cold water (also me), the best pool option is the warm water pool (a.k.a the sensible person's choice), which, according to the website is heated to 27°C/80.5°F. There's also a kiddie pool for those who have (or are) children. Obviously, you don't get the bragging rights by swimming in these pools, but you also don't get a cold and maybe you even get to enjoy the water, which, in my opinion, is kind of worth it 😏.

The warm water pool and the kiddie pool

After you've swum in the water (whichever pool you choose depending on your level of bad-assery/sensibility), you have the option to experience a Finnish sauna. Full disclosure: I didn't try the Allas Sea Pool sauna(s) during my visit, so I can't say if I recommend them or not, but I will say this: you will never get the full Finnish experience unless you go to a Finnish sauna!

We Finns take our saunas very seriously. A sauna for a Finn is a sacred place, where we solve personal and worldly problems, do business, celebrate/commiserate, or just relax. Traditionally, Finns go to the sauna stark naked. Yup, that's right - no swimsuits, no towels, nada, zip. A Finn sees nothing weird about this, and if somebody points out, "Really? You're too shy to say 'hello' to a person who's lived next door to you for the past five years, but you're comfortable sitting naked in a sauna next to a complete stranger who's also naked?" they'll most likely be met with a blank stare.

However.

As Allas Sea Pool gets a lot of international visitors, you can wear a swimsuit or a towel in the women's and men's sauna if you want to (but don't have to), whereas in the mixed-gender sauna, wearing a swimsuit is actually a requirement!

Also: although in a traditional Finnish sauna, you might see Finns gently (or less gently) beat themselves or each other with a bunch of tree twigs called a sauna whisk (if you hadn't gathered it by now, we're masochists), unfortunately (or fortunately), this practice is forbidden at Allas Sea Pool.

Right behind Allas Sea Pool, there's a Ferris wheel (SkyWheel Helsinki), which you can ride if you want to end your Helsinki experience on a high (very proud of this pun, by the way)

Other stuff to do

If you're spending more than 24 hours in Helsinki (or you're a more energetic person than I am), here's some more stuff you might want to check out:

1. Suomenlinna

Whilst you're at the Market Square, you can take a ferry to the Fortress of Suomenlinna. Suomenlinna is a beautiful and historically interesting place with ruins, museums, and other cool stuff. It's also a nice place to have a picnic. However, I would plan to spend more than just a couple of hours there because otherwise you might miss out on stuff to see and experience. If you're interested, you can read more about Suomenlinna on their official website.

2. Cruises

Another thing you can do is take one of the Helsinki archipelago cruises. Some of these cruises serve food and drinks. There are several options out there, but as my last experience dates back to 2010, I encourage you to do your own research. Also, if you have been on one of these cruises, please do share your experience in the comment section below 😊!

3. Korkeasaari & Linnanmäki

If you're traveling with your kids (or if you yourself are a kid at heart), you might want to consider visiting Korkeasaari Zoo or the amusement park Linnanmäki. Linnanmäki is actually one of my favorite places in Helsinki but, unfortunately, nowadays it's quite pricey.

Closing words

So, there you have it! If you have more/other suggestions or comments that could help the people planning to visit Helsinki, I would really appreciate it if you could share your wisdom in the comment section below 😊.

Next time, I'll be talking about what you should (and shouldn't) eat on your trip to Helsinki as, in my opinion, Finnish food gets a bad rap for nothing (and even if it didn't, you gotta eat, don't you 😏?)!

So, until then...

...moi moi!

The Finnish-Mexican Chrismukkah Experiment

My fiancé got his first ever Christmas advent calendar this December.

He is 36 years of age.

He's also - as it happens - Jewish, which might be the reason he got into this advent calendar thing somewhat late in the game.

Said calendar

Clearly, as a Jewish man, my fiancé doesn't celebrate Christmas. However, he's not exactly the type to wave around a Hannukah bush either (I'm not even sure if a Hannukah bush is waveable... is it?). To put it bluntly, he doesn't much care for the whole holiday period. Don't get me wrong - he doesn't mind Christmas nor Hannukah, but he's not super excited about them either. He tolerates them, coexists with them, and if someone says, "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Hanukkah," he mutters back, "Thanks, you too."

To him, the holidays are equivalent to a tired, indifferent shrug.

However, his attitude might have started to change a little bit when he met me (maybe). Not through osmosis unfortunately (even I'm not that charming), but through a conscious effort from my part. Let me explain: I happen to love Christmas, gingerbread cookies, ugly sweaters, chocolate, glögi (mulled wine), and all that jazz. I think it's mostly because I'm Finnish since - although it's true that not every Finn is keen on this specific holiday - in Finland it's just easier to get into the holiday spirit. We have actual snow (or at least we used to), and on top of that Santa Claus lives in Finland (FYI: whenever somebody claims that Santa Claus lives in the North Pole, a little piece of me dies... and if that's not bad enough, somewhere an innocent little elf dies, too, so can we all just from now on agree that Santa Claus lives in Finland? Pretty please?).

So. Since I love the holidays and my significant other thinks that this time of the year is more or less "meh," I've taken it upon myself to introduce a little bit of holiday cheer into his life. And by holiday cheer I don't just mean Christmas cheer, but Hanukkah cheer (is that a thing?) as well. That's why we celebrate Chrismukkah (the marriage between Christmas and Hanukkah, originally introduced by the TV series The O.C.)! However, unfortunately, as I'm not too familiar with Hanukkah, the "Chrism" part of Chrismukkah tends to be just a teeny tiny bit (a lot bit) more emphasized.

Project Ho-Ho-Holiday Cheer

My holiday-cheer-implementation project started off innocently enough: A few years back I simply asked my fiancé to sign some "Happy Holidays" cards to my family and friends (okay, they didn't say "Happy Holidays," they said "Merry Christmas").

The year after that, I decided to up the stakes and play Mariah Carey's All I want for Christmas in the background whenever he entered the room (unfortunately, all the Hanukkah songs I know are in Hebrew, which makes them a little tricky to sing along to.) The results started to manifest relatively quickly, as he began to hum said song as well as various other Christmassy ones to himself every now and again (every department store playing their Christmas CD's from October to January might also have played a part).

Then last year there was a giant leap in regards to our Chrismukkah tradition (but a tiny step for humankind) as I put up Chrismukkah lights in our living room window where they spread holiday cheer not only during Christmas or the eight days of Hanukkah but (wait for it) all year around! (Yep, all part of my evil holiday cheer plan and definitely NOT because I'm too scared to take them down in the fear of taking down half the wallpaper with them.) Incidentally, just like the miracle of the Hanukkah oil, our Chrismukkah lights burned brightly for eight days and eight nights until they finally ran out of battery.

Said lights (out of battery)

However, none of these subtle tactics did much to turn my fiancé into a Chrismukkah fan. But then along came this December and with it a breakthrough - the Chrismukkah calendar!

Chrismukkah Calendar

The Chrismukkah calendar my fiancé received (okay, okay, I admit - it's a plain old Christmas advent calendar) was one that my mom had bought from The Guides and Scouts of Finland a year or two ago. And this December was when it came in handy.

The project started off a little shaky: As Fiancé opened his first ever Chrismukkah calendar door, his reaction was not one of wonderment or Chrismukkah awe. Instead, as the door opened to reveal a picture of a candle, he announced, disappointed, "Oh. No chocolate?"

Seriously? Do you see how thin this thing is?

THIS thin!!

There's no way this calendar could have had chocolate inside. Unless, of course, there was chocolate inside but then, for whatever reason, the insides got flattened by a steamroller. But as the chances of that are pretty slim, I think this one is just a simple picture calendar.

Anyway. The next day after that anticlimactic start, Fiancé seemed to discover the joy of opening the advent calendar doors. In the following few days, whenever he opened a door, he would let out an awe-stricken gasp (which might or might not have had a little bit of a mocking tone to it, but hey, a gasp is a gasp).

Here are some of his reactions:

Door 14: *gasp* "Look! It's a straw dog!"

Ed. Note: That is, in fact, not a "straw dog" (which, according to Wikipedia, is the title of "a song by the Meads of Asphodel from Life is Shit"). Instead, it's a Yule Goat - a Scandinavian symbol of Christmas, and, as it happens, of Chrismukkah.


Door 19: *gasp* "Look! It's a plant!"

Ed. Note: Well, yeah, by a very (very) broad definition, I guess it kind of is a plant. It's also (and more commonly) known as a wreath.


Door 18: *gasp* "Look! It's a sock!"

Ed. Note: A sock, a stocking. Same thing.


Door 5: *gasp* "Look, it's a...a... dead fish?"

Ed. Note: Yep, that's a dead fish, all right. Because nothing says Christmas like a dead fish (I'm kidding - I don't really get this picture either).

To sum up, so far, the introduction of the Chrismukkah Calendar has been a success. There are still two doors left to be opened, however, so I can't say anything definite yet, but it sure looks promising. But that's this year, and we've yet to see what next year will bring. Maybe in 2019 he'll be wearing a Christmas hat while holding a cup of glögi in one hand and a menorah in the other - who knows!

Chrismukkah 2018

As I'm writing this, it's the 22nd of December. In Finland, the 24th is the big one. For the past couple of years, my fiancé and I have spent the 24th in Mexico. This year, however, our Chrismukkah will not look like this:

Nor will it look like the Finnish Christmas:

This year we'll be spending the 24th of December on a couple of different trains and a plane, just traveling. I would normally feel a little weird about that, but this year is different because... we are moving!

And not just moving house but moving to a different country altogether. The feeling is bittersweet because on one hand, we're sad to leave our group of great friends in Liège, but on the other hand, turning a new leaf in our crazy life is kind of exciting. Stay tuned for updates ;).

This is also my last blog post in 2018, and I'd like to thank everybody for the love and support you've given me throughout my blogging adventure! It means a lot!

With this picture of vin chaud (hot wine) in Liège, I wish all my readers a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Chrismukkah, Happy Holidays, and - of course - a Happy New Year!

Cheers! L'chaim!

The Chocolate Showdown

When I tell people that after three years of living in Portugal - the country of sun, green wine, and beautiful beaches - I moved to Belgium - the country whose name in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is described as the rudest word in the whole of Universe - I always get the same reaction: Why (the hell) would you do that? people ask (and sometimes, after several consecutive months of endless rain, so do I). Well, the truth is I moved to Belgium because of love (enter The Notebook soundtrack). Yes, I know I know, I'm unoriginal, and yes, some anti-Beyoncé will one day write an anti-women's anthem about people like me, but after 2.5 years I have come to call this place home. A temporary home, maybe, but a home nonetheless. Like an inflatable mattress.

Now, these days, when people ask me, "So, what's good in Belgium?" I formulate my answer based on my 2.5 years of experience in the country. Usually, my thoughts turn to food and fictional characters: Belgium. The country of waffles and French fries (yes, French fries – poor Belgium).

The country of highly alcoholic beer (also cherry beer that even non-beer lovers like because it's nothing like beer), Tintin (that straight white guy with the cute little dog), the city of Bruges (neither food, nor a fictional character), great chocolate (great it is), and Hercule Poirot.

But let’s get back to the chocolate. For the longest time, I wanted to write a blog post about my experiences visiting different chocolate shops in Brussels, tasting and comparing the chocolates, and taking notes. Well, that blog post never happened because I just ended up buying a bunch of chocolates, eating most of them right away, taking pictures of myself holding the chocolates that had manage to escape my binge eating and that looked like each other's long lost twin brothers, and jotting down notes such as "flavorful," "crunchy," or "meh," which, despite their apparent food-writerly brilliance, would probably not have made Anthony Bourdain shake in his des(s)ert boots. But even though the blog post never happened, that experience introduced me to Belgian chocolate, and I must say that although everybody claims Belgian chocolate is great, I take a little bit of an issue with that (What? Oh, the blasphemy!). Not because the chocolate is not great (oh, phew), but rather, when is chocolate not great? Isn't it like chocolate’s inherent quality to be great? Have you ever had bad chocolate?

In my opinion, however, there’s a greater chocolate than Belgian chocolate (don't cast your stones just yet, okay?), and it was this realization that set me out on my journey to find out for once and for all which chocolate is the best. (For the record, I'm aware that, as I'm living and writing this in Belgium, these might be the very last words that I utter. But what wouldn't I do in the name of science?).

So... what can be better than Belgian chocolate?

Well, let me first tell you what it's not - it's not French chocolate, it's not Swiss chocolate, or any other chocolate that you are probably thinking of. Nor is it the OG of all chocolates. Actually, when I told my Mexican fiancé that I was writing this post, we had this delightful exchange:


Fiancé: “Do you know where the original chocolate is from?”

Me: “Let me guess… Mexico?”

Fiancé: “Mexico. Honey, I think you should-”

Me: “No.”


So, like I said, it's not Mexican chocolate either and, unfortunately (she said, not gloatingly at all), I had no access to said chocolate, so my fiancé gets to keep his illusion of the superiority of his country's pride and joy.

Anyway, the chocolate that I feel has always deserved the status of the best chocolate, the dark horse, the Rocky (but not rocky road) of all chocolates is (drumroll, please)...

FINNISH CHOCOLATE!


[Cue the crickets.]

Now, you might or might not know that I'm from Finland and you might or might not think that I’m a little biased and only claiming that Finnish chocolate is the best because in some sick and twisted way that feeds my nationalist pride. Well, rest assured that I’ve lived outside of Finland long enough not to let my judgement be (too) clouded by the big old Finnish cloud of Moomin trolls. My taste buds, however, are a different story altogether. Someone wise has said that your preferences are formed in your childhood and I don’t know for sure but I have a feeling that my taste buds are nothing but a bunch of prejudiced nationalist assholes. That’s why, in order to pass the throne of the Best Chocolate to its rightful owner, I decided to do a little test.

The Test

The crime scene: An international event in Liège, Belgium.

Testers: A crowd of people of 16 different nationalities* to ensure unbiased taste buds.

Contenders: To make this competition at least somewhat fair (to Belgium), I paired the Finnish chocolate and candy giant Fazer with two (2!) of Belgium’s chocolate brands – Galler and Côte d’Or. After the fact I heard that Côte d'Or has actually been bought by an American company, but oh well, the damage, at that point, had already been done. (By the way, none of these brands are paying me anything for this free exposure, but if they are reading this - which I'm sure they are... not -, they should obviously pay me in chocolate.)

In Finland’s corner, we’ve got these two beauties:

Fazer: Milk chocolate

Fazer: Milk chocolate with salty toffee crunch

By the way: Finns, if you’re reading this and wondering what these white stickers on the packaging are, they’re there because the chocolates were bought in Brussels at the only place that I’m aware of that sells Finnish goodies – the Finnish Seamen’s Church (Yes, ‘Seamen’. Oh, grow up, you immature person you!) – and they needed to have the product description in both French and Dutch.

In Belgium’s corner, there are these two solid options:

Galler: 'LAIT Profond' milk chocolate

Côte d'Or: 'Bloc' caramelized almonds with a pinch of salt

The two milk chocolates (Fazer and Galler) and the two ‘exotic’ milk chocolates (Fazer's salty toffee crunch and Côte d'Or's Bloc) will go head to head (by the way, I called the latter 'exotic' so as not to steer the testers' opinions in any particular way). However, it should be noted that the two exotic chocolates are unfortunately not 100 percent comparable as Côte d'Or's Bloc has almonds, whereas Fazer's version does not. Obviously, my intention was to find a salted caramel(ish) version of both the chocolates, and after four stores and an hour of chocolate tasting (I know, my life is hard), this is the closest I could get.

Test Setup

The testing day was cold and rainy (what else is new, Belgium?). At home, my fiancé helped me break the rivaling chocolates down into smaller pieces (some more cooperatively than others) and when we arrived at the testing place, we placed them in the little containers shown below. The milk chocolate (Finnish chocolate in cup A and Belgian in cup B) is on the left-hand side of the picture and the ‘exotic' milk chocolate (Finnish chocolate in container A and Belgian in container B) is on the right. The testers were asked to taste these chocolates and choose their preference (A or B). They were not told the origin of the chocolate, and even if they chose B (the Belgian option), I kept my cool and only judged them on the inside.

Curiously enough, it wasn't too hard to get people to participate in the chocolate test (I know, crazy, right?). Most were eager to participate, and in the end, thirty-six people took part in the test, out of whom one participant only tried the milk chocolates and couldn’t decide between the two options and one participant didn’t quite care for either of the exotic chocolates. The rest of the participants tried and evaluated them all.

Nationality had some effect. For example, all Italians (except for one rebel) were unanimous about the superiority of the Finnish chocolate (yay... I mean, I'm completely impartial). Also, both the Mexicans answered the same way (4 points go to... Finland!), but then again, there were only two of them. FUN FACT: Most Belgian participants preferred the Finnish option in both cases. Yeah, I mean, I know this was a blind test and all but… where is your national pride, Belgians?

So, who won?

Before the testing day, I crafted the diagram below to help me evaluate the results as fairly as possible. As you can see, there's a column for nationality, two to mark your preference, and one for any comments that the participants might have.

As it turns out, surprisingly many people used the comment section. Here are some problems that the comments highlighted:

- As explained before, the salty caramel(ish) chocolate option wasn’t identical for both countries as the Côte d’Or version had almonds. This might very well have affected the results.
- No water to cleanse the palate with. (Moreover – even though nobody mentioned it – we have to take into account the fact that the test was set up at a bar, so different drinks might have affected taste buds in different ways.)
- We had no dark chocolate, which I was told is the thing that Belgians are the most famous for.
- Belgians were our biggest group of testers, whereas there were no Finns -> potential for bias

Each selection of A or B gained one point for the corresponding chocolate. So, whenever a tester would mark A as their preference, that was one point for Finland, and whenever they marked B, Belgium gained one point. After counting all the points, these are the results I got:

	Finland (A)	Belgium (B)
Milk chocolate	21	15
‘Exotic’ milk chocolate	22	11

Now, if we only look at the numbers and disregard all other factors, we have a clear winner.

But wait! Hold up!

Because of the margin of errors and the small number of participants, I wanted to make sure that the results were not just a coincidence. Since, unfortunately, I live up to the stereotype of writers not being good with numbers, I asked my fiancé, who is a physicist (ergo, good with numbers), to create the below diagram. Of which I understand nothing at all, but hey, it looks impressive!

Anyway, what my fiancé explained is that basically it is hard to rule out the possibility of a random result especially in the case of the milk chocolates (the exotic chocolates were a little bit further apart, but randomness cannot be ruled out in that case either).

So, because of the above diagram and because I simply cannot deal with a crying chocolate bar (and because this is my blog after all and not a scientific journal), I will apply the "they all lived happily ever after" approach which means that we will call it…

A TIE!

Hurrah! Long live Belgium! Long live Finland! And long live chocolate!

Closing words

Many thanks first of all to my fiancé for all his help, to everybody who so kindly volunteered to recruit participants for me when I was too shy to ask myself, and, of course, to all the testers who volunteered for this "study." I hope you had as fun as I did!

*Belgian, French, Turkish, German (and German-Kurdish), British, Argentinian, Russian, Romanian, Italian, Spanish, Greek, Mexican, Egyptian, Colombian, Lithuanian, Iranian