The Hillbilly Viking

Most of the food stalls down by Helsinki harbor serve vendace, which appears to be a big basket of jumbo, deep-fried guppies (with a side of dill sauce). As a child, I knew guppies to be the cute little fish you brought home in a clear bag, named, and then transferred to the toilet one by one over the ensuing weeks. 

Here, they are tapas. 

I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. I also grew up thinking reindeer were wise and magical, anthropomorphic deer that delivered Christmas. Here, they are delicious, medium-rare, slabs of comfort food.  I also had Bullwinkle for lunch this afternoon, and now I fully understand why Boris Badenov always wanted to “get moose and squirrel.” 

It makes me wonder what other adorable, childhood fauna the Finns have slain and converted into a tasty, blue plate special. Hampster Wings? Puppy bisque? 

(Expanding that thought, lasagna with a Garfield bolognese seems both conceivable and hilariously ironic. It could never be served on Mondays though. Garfield hated Mondays.)

Anyway, I’ll be sure to keep my eyes (and mouth) open as we tour the larger part of Helsinki today and report back. In the meantime, please note that the fried guppies were delicious. I nearly ate myself sick of them, and now I really mourn all the ones I previously flushed.