A Finnish Kitchen

The smell of freshly baked pulla still takes me back ate my grandmother’s kitchen in rural Finland. I was barely tall enough to see over the counter, but I was already kneading dough, shaping buns, and learning that the best recipes are about more than just following instructions.

I grew up cooking. My grandmother taught me to bake, and my family had our own tradition: homemade pizza nights. Me, mom, dad, my siblings all gather in the kitchen to make everything from scratch, rolling out the dough, chopping toppings, and sitting down together to enjoy what we’d created. I learned early on that cooking wasn’t just about feeding people. It was about care, connection, and creating something with your hands.

Cooking As Care

When I was fifteen and about to start lukio (Finnish high school), my dad had a medical emergency. A quite lengthy story short, he ended up getting a heart transplant. He spent months upon months in the hospital, and our lives shifted overnight. I took over much of the cooking at home because it was the one way I knew how to help. Peeling carrots, chopping onions, simmering jauhelihakeitto. It became my way of taking care of my family when everything else felt uncertain. And somewhere in all of that, I discovered that cooking was also how I took care of myself. There’s something meditative about it. The rhythm of chopping vegetables, the pure focus it requires. It’s like yoga for me. Just pure calm.

Finding My Way Back Home

For years, my creative outlet was photography. I ran my own photography business from 2017 to 2022, capturing moments, playing with light and composition — always chasing that perfect shot. Photography taught me to see the world differently, to notice details, to frame a story, to make something ordinary feel extra special. When I moved to Ireland in 2022, I brought that eye with me, but I also brought the longing for the food I grew up with.

Finnish food isn’t flashy. It’s hearty, honest, comforting. It’s jauhelihakastike, minced meat and brown sauce, over potatoes. It’s hernekeitto on Thursdays. It’s rye bread that you don’t have to make yourself because in Finland it’s everywhere. But here in Ireland, if I want it, I bake it. I started this blog just for fun. A way to share the recipes I was making for myself. I then realised there aren’t many authentic Finnish recipes available in English. But the recipes I’m sharing aren’t just instructions. They are pieces of home.

What You’ll Find Here

I cook the way I photograph. Looking for what makes something beautiful, yes, but also what makes it real. I’m not interested in fussy plating or trends. I want to share the food that actually fills Finnish tables. The recipes my mother and grandmother made and taught me. The dishes I grew up eating. The comfort food that reminds me of long, dark winters and bright summer nights. And I want to share it in a way that makes it accessible to anyone, anywhere, who’s curious about what we eat in Finland.

Irish and Finnish food aren’t so different. We both love potatoes. We both appreciate a good stew. Hearty is the name of the game for both cuisines. Living in Ireland has only deepened my appreciation for simple, soul-warming food. And while Finnish recipes are the heart of this blog, I love exploring other cuisines too: Irish classics, Indian curries, anything that excites me in the kitchen.

This blog is my way of bringing Finland to your table, wherever you are. Whether you’re Finnish and missing home, curious about Nordic cuisine, or just someone who loves trying new things in the kitchen, I’m here to share what I know. These are the recipes I’ve been eating my whole life. The ones that matter. The ones that taste like home.

Welcome to my kitchen.

— Niko