Moomintrolls at Uniqlo

Apologies for another Moomin post, but I thought I'd share with you the new Moomin range from Uniqlo, the Japanese clothing giant.

There are some lovely pieces here, and as a firm Little My fan, I think I'd pick this one.

WOMEN Moomin Long Sleeve Sweat Pullover Hoodie

• £19.90

Which one do you like?

Finnish Christmas Fair

It never ceases to amaze me how two countries who are geographically so close can be so different. Take the two ex-pat Christmas Fairs I've just been to. Yesterday's Swedish Church was stylish, flash and showy. Set in the genteel part of town in Marylebone, it was where the well-heeled Swedes come to shop for their Christmas goodies.

Even the flag is smaller than at the Swedish Church...

The Finnish Church in London, however, is not blessed with a central location. 33 Albion Street, SE19, is only a hop and a skip away from Canada Water, but is stuck on a small high street which has seen better days. The church building, which is new, could be called ugly by someone who is not Finnish by birth. Obviously I, however, tried to see the Aaltoesk properties of the simple 70's (?) facade...

Inside the church was filled with Finnish goodies. There was someone playing the piano, bringing a tear to my eye with old Finnish Christmas songs. Unlike at the Swedish Church, here the stalls, which were heavily laden with wonderful Fazer goodies, proper dark rye breads, and fantastic old-fashioned straw decorations made in Savolax (to name only a few) were unmanned. There were no friendly Finns in their national costumes (why not - the Finnish ones are by far more beautiful in their simplicity than the Swedish ones?), nor was there a scary Pastor (phew) handing out programmes. The Finns in their infinite efficiency had decided on a supermarket model - at the entrance you were handed a basket and you paid at the tills. A much more sensible solution to the inevitable crowds of ex-pats these events attract, but somehow less romantic.

I could have bought up the whole of this table.

I just love those straw reindeer.

Finnish coffee.

I had to take a picture of the 'Squeaky Cheese' - I've never heard this baked cheese called that!

Proper Finnish pastry for Finnish Christmas 'stars'.

I'm afraid I succumbed to Finnish sausage.

I know, it's not good for you, but I just couldn't resist.

Is there a legal issue we're not aware of?

One thing the Finns do have is their monopoly on Father Christmas - he does live in Finland after all. And as if by magic, half-way through my shopping expedition, he appeared to the delight of both children and adults alike.

He was handing out sweets - and it's not even December yet!

Finnish Koskenkorva vodka and liquers.

Even though the location could be better, I had a wonderful time at the Finnish Church Christmas Fair today and bought far too many things. More about that nearer Christmas!

London Life: a pub crawl and Jin Kichi in Hampstead

I've been meaning to write about this fantastic Japanese restaurant in Hampstead for a long time, but somehow just haven't got round to it. It's very popular and it's almost impossible to get a table there these days, so I guess I didn't think it needed any more pr either.

But then last Saturday, when emotionally drained from flat hunting, and after an Ocado grocery delivery failed to arrive (it was a difficult day), the Englishman and I left the empty cupboards of our little kitchen behind and headed off to our latest favourite local, The Duke of Hamilton. By six o'clock we were already starving (we're complete light-weights these days) and decided to walk down to the High Street to see if we could find an eating place in Hampstead which served chips with burgers (explanation here). As we passed Jin Kichi, we thought we'd try our luck. 'No chance,' said the always cheerful Englishman. But luck did seem to be on our side and we got two seats at the bar.

Spurred on by our drink-fuelled hunger we ordered mixed Sashimi, mixed Nigiri, Udon noodles with fishcake and prawns, black cod, Yakotori chicken and deep-fried squid. We washed it all down with Sapporo beer and slowly happiness and a sense of well-being enveloped us.

We joked and laughed with the chef working the hot skewers in front of us and after paying the bill we decided to have just one more drink in the Holly Bush which just happens to be on our way home.    

The next morning I wondered how, since a few years ago visiting two pubs could hardly even be called a pub crawl, I now had a severe head ache and something that could only be called a hangover.

Light weight doesn't begin to describe my drinking ability these days. I wonder if I even can call myself a Finn anymore...

A bit of a scoop at HEL YES!

HEL YES! at night, picture courtesy of www.helyes.fi

I must admit to feeling a little worse for wear this morning. My hangover has nothing to do with yesterday's brunch venue, HEL YES! a Finnish pop-up restaurant in Islington. It has, however, everything to do with being Finnish. Which sort of makes sense?

We didn't touch this stuff, thank God...

With a good dose of sisu, a Finnish character trait which can best be described as foolhardy determination, Husband and I, plus some very good friends, drank through the day after a most excellent (albeit a little sparse) meal at the warehouse just off City Road in London where Finnish designers and chefs have created a magical restaurant on a theme of foraging.

The temporary kitchen

There were birch tree canopies above the tables, signs and artwork made out of twigs adorned the walls of the warehouse, with contemporary Finnish design by Klaus Haapaniemi, the Creative Director of HEL YES!, in evidence everywhere.

The scene when we arrived

Birch twigs put to good use.

The bar area was canopied with the softest silk cashmere blankets in a new design by Klaus Haapaniemi. I want one now! 

Detail from Klaus Haapaniemi's design

The Iittala and Arabia crockery at the restaurant was sourced from donations made by the Finnish public. The food on offer was equally wild and earthy: I had white fish tartare followed by wild mushroom hash with a poached egg. Both dishes were excellent, but the portions were so small we were all relieved there was pudding to come. I had something which took me back to being seven again: whipped raspberry semolina. My grandmother (she of the leopard print habit) used to make it out of lingonberries, a slightly more tart and smaller version of cranberries. I'd have a bowlful with cold milk after school, and it was the best thing for a fussy eater: I rarely could stomach school food, but that's another much longer tale. Others at the table had a liquorice dessert. I love anything liquorice and wish I'd been able to have both, but I'd tasted a similar dish at my very favourite London restaurant, St John's Bread and Wine, so I had to choose the semolina.

My only regret (apart from the frolicking yesterday after the meal) was that we didn't get to sit on one of the canopied round smaller tables on Alvar Aalto chairs. We were such a large group we had a long birch table with benches, the kind of dining room furniture I have always despised.

Our friendly Maitre'D

Brunching at the same time as us at the HEL YES! restaurant was Helena Puolakka, Executive Chef of Skylon restaurant at the Royal Festival Hall. (We were in good company.) And a little bird told me that she's planning to open her own place. I've thought for a long time that there's a real gap in the London food scene for a Nordic restaurant. With her considerable experience having worked with the likes of Pierre Koffmann and Gordon Ramsey, together with her talent for creating fresh tastes with traditional Finnish ingredients, Helena is the perfect person to open such a place. I do hope it'll be soon. Husband said Helena should serve a sillis in her new restaurant for Sunday brunch. The lady just laughed - I'm not sure a breakfast of raw fish and vodka would suit everyone's palette here in the UK, even though it'd be such a lot of fun for us. But there was a more enthusiastic approach to crayfish parties from the chef; she even claimed that the best crayfish in the UK come from our very own county of Wiltshire.

'Should have set up that crayfish farm after all,' Husband sighed as we walked out of the very Finnish bubble that was HEL YES! But I'm glad we didn't. I've now become such a townie that the thought of having to wear wellies every day to babysit aggressive crayfish whose only aim in life is to kill each other made me shudder. I'll just wait for Helena's restaurant to open and get my crayfish neatly served on a plate.