4 Things I’ve Learnt in a Finnish Sauna
Trigger warning: there's mention of nudity.
My first visit to a sauna in Finland was a profound lesson in how far from home I really was. Certainly more profound than the lack of Marmite in Finnish stores, BBC on the TV here, or how rarely people start conversations with meaningless observations about the weather.
How do I put this simply?
I can probably get to the crux of the matter by letting you know that, by my best reckoning as someone turning 39 in a few weeks, I last saw my parents naked in the mid-nineties. Even earlier for my mother since I can’t remember ever having seen her naked.
With regards my father, on the other hand, the memory of his walking around stark naked, cock and bollocks knocking at his knees (as I remember it at least) when he got up every morning has been permanently marked onto the recesses of my psyche. The upstairs hallway framing this unfortunate memory being that of the house we lived in in the nineties.
Being British, I’m quite OK with how long ago that is. Our family is liberal and open and pretty carefree, but being naked anywhere near each other remains the stuff of nightmares to me.
This firmly held belief is probably why it was so confusing when I took my first sauna in Finland and was expected to enjoy it naked with my similarly naked father-in-law. Just as shocking, my wife (girlfriend then of course) would be taking her sauna with her sister and mother in a similar state of undress.
Clifton Fadimon said that “a foreign country is not designed to make you comfortable. It is designed to make its own people comfortable.”
That sauna was the most uncomfortable thing of my life.
With that in mind, I want to share a few things that make sauna particularly “comfortable” for Finns. Things “we” do here to take sauna up a notch. I hope these few tips, if you get the chance this summer and beyond, help make your next sauna session that little bit more special and Finnish.
4 things I’ve Learnt in a Finnish Sauna
A novel use for beer
Sauna is sauna because of the water thrown on the searingly hot stones (they have a word for this water in Finnish: löyly) And even the type of water makes a big difference. When I’m in the city using water from the taps in our apartment’s electric sauna, my eyes always end up ever so slightly irritated. Someone who knows about how water is treated can explain why this is so, I’m sure. But when we are at the family summer cottage, on an island just off the coast, we only use water fresh from the brackish sea. As it steams away from the baking stones the smell is clean and refreshing and, even after hours, doesn’t irritate my eyes the slightest.
But now for the real tip to make your löyly perfect.
Sauna and beer are, unsurprisingly, a very special match, but not necessarily for the reason you’d expect. Obviously much of this beer gets drunk, but the best reason for taking a beer with you into a sauna isn’t actually to drink it at all.
Mixing a splash of beer with a ladle of water, once thrown on the rocks, releases a blast of aromas both delicious and evocative as the yeasty drink evaporates away. Stone-baked bread left in the oven until darkly crusted. Hot buttered toast lathered with Marmite. Even sweet buttery buns. It is absolutely delicious. It does no damage to the stones, so if it’s OK with whoever owns your sauna, you need to try it for yourself.
Stone-baked sausage
Those hot sauna stones can do so much more than just fill the room with steam and beery aromas. Well, at least one thing more. One of the more resourceful uses of the stones I’ve seen during my time in Finland is to wrap sausages in foil (use pre-cooked ones like frankfurters) and warm them directly on the stones. If you’ve never had a hot sausage during your sauna then you’re in for a treat.
A leafy whip
In Finnish supermarkets (the big ones at least) you will find what looks like large bunches of twigs in the freezer section.
They are frozen birch branches that, once defrost, are the perfect natural tool to give oneself a good sauna whipping with. The reasons for doing this range from the stimulation of blood circulation to exfoliation of the skin to the release of aromatic oils that (just as the beer does) helps give a great smell to the sauna.
It’s this last of the reasons I love most. To keep the leafy whip from drying out, it’s often kept in the bucket of water used for splashing on the sauna stones. This ends up making a kind of birch leaf tea which, once thrown on the stones, makes the entire sauna smell wonderful.
And there you have it. A special sauna edition of The Recovering Line Cook, which, now I’m looking back on it, is all about making sauna smell and taste even better. I guess that’s pretty appropriate for a food newsletter.
But for all those things I’ve learned in doing Finnish sauna properly, I still maintain the most important thing I’ve learned in a sauna, isn’t really about sauna at all.
That first naked family sauna I “enjoyed” was really my first lesson in how Finland wouldn’t be just a new place for me, it would be a new way of doing things, too. A new way of living and of seeing.
I could no longer look at the world the way I was comfortable seeing it. Not all words are translatable and that’s the same for the way things are done as well. In the years that followed there’d be other lessons, lessons in how to see new things, and lessons in how to see old things I’d become blind to.
This is my story of moving to another place. And it started with getting naked in a sauna.
Before you go, I’ve been absolutely loving the first of my 1-to-1 online cooking classes the past few weeks. Even better, the feedback has been really good as well.
This week I led a class that focussed on that iconically Swedish pastry the cardamom bun. Both I, and the participant, were very happy with the results.
And here’s what he said about the class:
“It was truly fantastic. Wil is such a good teacher, very patient and helpful when dealing with any questions. And he’s a great conversationalist too, so you’ll have a lot of fun!”
If you want to know more about the classes I’m offering (which are still priced on a big discount during this early-bird launch period) click here.
See you next week!
Wil
Clifton Fadimon said that “a foreign country is not designed to make you comfortable. It is designed to make its own people comfortable.”
What an excellent quote!
Going to try the beer Löyly! Thanks Wil.