Finnish Pancakes

May 26, 2020

I adored my grandmother Hannah Pietikainen - pictured here with Norma Poutanen Schilke - and spent weekends and summer holidays with her. We had a special bond. I was not only Grandma’s first granddaughter but also named after her. Family members have always called me Maija Hannah and not Mary Anne even though it is the official designation on my birth certificate. My attachment to the name Maija Hannah maintains a deep connection to my Grandma despite the many decades that have passed since her death.

At Grandma’s house, I played in the backyard sauna and accompanied her as she shopped for groceries on Bay Street in Thunder Bay, each time stopping for refreshments at the Hoito in the Finnish Labour Temple – of which she was a member - before returning home. She gave me my first watch having purchased it from a Finnish-Canadian jeweller on Bay Street. I went to Grandma’s sauna with her, my mother, Auntie Norma, and my sister Lynda on Saturday evenings. She would sit on the top bench and splash water on the hot rocks; my sister and I would crouch by the door to escape the dense steam. At the end of sauna, we rested in the change room to consume soft drinks carefully selected from a wooden box kept in Grandma’s closet. I have come to realize that sauna reinforced gender solidarity and provided moments to listen to adult female conversations related to the family, to the local community, and even to the world. They were resilient women. But, I also recognize that it must have been difficult for my mom who did not speak Finnish although she understood the language.

My grandmother spoke little English despite having migrated alone from Turku, Finland to Northern Ontario when she was 19 and unmarried to work as a domestic. Since the Finnish community at the Lakehead was so large, she shopped and socialized in her mother tongue. Grandma conversed with me in Finnish and although I did not always understand what she was saying, I knew she loved me. It was the gentleness of her voice, the hugs and kisses, the trips to the corner store for candy, and the Finnish pancakes she made for me every morning at my request when I stayed with her. It became a cherished ritual: she would ask me what I wanted for breakfast and I would reply with a huge smile and an enthusiastic, “Finnish pancakes!” Any pancakes left over from breakfast were eaten later in the morning during Grandma’s coffee break.

Finnish pancakes are soft to the palate, thin, and delicious. You can serve them traditionally by sprinkling them with sugar or in the North American fashion with maple syrup or corn syrup. Lynda and I remember the preparation of her pancakes and eating leftovers the next day spread with jam then rolled. As an adult, whenever I visited Thunder Bay, I would go to the Hoito Restaurant for Finnish pancakes and revel in its history. I went there to remember Grandma too. It saddens and angers me to learn that it will close. The Hoito reflects the history of the Finnish community, its spirit, and its contribution to the city and region; it is steeped in the labour politics of logging camps and in my treasured memories of Grandma. It makes the recipe for Finnish pancakes more precious.

Grandma’s recipe was passed on to her daughter Norma who in turn gave it to me. One day, I will pass it on to my son. Lynda and I continue the tradition of cooking these pancakes for our children and my sister for her grandchildren. I look forward to serving Finnish pancakes to my own grandchildren. For now, I will make them on Christmas morning alongside a bowl of freshly sliced strawberries (another family tradition), for my son when he asks for Finnish pancakes, and for my partner on weekends as we shelter at home with the same love my Grandma showed me and in her honour.

Directions:
2 cups milk
3 eggs
¾ cup flour
½ teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon of salad oil [omit if you use whole milk]

Beat milk and eggs slightly before adding flour and other ingredients and mix together. Let stand for 2 hours but preferably overnight.

If pancakes curl at the edges when frying, add some milk. Taste for salt.

You need to use a hot pan that is oiled.

Mary Anne Poutanen is a social historian whose research focuses on labouring women in 19th-century Montreal. Writing about her own family history has been both daunting and inspiring.