My friend and colleague, Tuija, and I worked late on Friday night on our net teaching project on campus and decided to stop for a drink when we finally turned the computer off. While we were enjoying a glass of decent Sangiovese in a warm and friendly bar/restaurant, Tuija’s husband, Pasi, called. After she hung up, she invited me for dinner. Pasi was cooking. And the recipe was for four, so even though Pasi counted himself as two diners, there would still be plenty of food for me; I was invited for dinner. Tuija told me that reseptikone - the recipe machine – had turned Pasi into an eager chef. I didn’t want to sound too non-acculturated, so I just made some sounds to agree with her and thanked for the invitation.
Reseptikone – my mind kept wondering, around the word and the idea. Kone means a machine, and it is very widely used in Finnish. There’s lentokone = a flying machine (an airplane), tietokone = a knowledge machine (a computer), partakone = a beard machine (an electric shaver), ruohonleikkuukone = a grass cutting machine (a lawnmover), etc. The word, kone, can be used alone in context to mean any of these machines, without the first part of the compound word. So, if you say, I arrived iltakoneella = on the evening machine, every Finn knows you had just flown in on an evening flight. But reseptikone still left me puzzled???
We stopped in the state liquor store, Alko, to get a bottle of wine, Vinho Verde, a young Portuguese, almost bubbly white that even I, the red wine drinker, approve of. After we arrived in Tuija and Pasi’s beautiful apartment in a thirties functionalistic style building, I walked straight to the kitchen in search of the reseptikone. But I couldn’t see any obvious strange kone. Of course, there were the astianpesukone = a dishwashing machine, kahvikone = a coffee machine, etc. but nothing out of the ordinary. Pasi was standing in front of a wok with a store receipt size, narrow piece of paper on the counter, his recipe.
And I found out about the clever invention. At any larger supermarket, you can stop by a recipe machine right by the entrance. You look up a category and narrow down to a recipe, this time Pasi had chosen Noodles with Zucchini and Prawns. The recipe machine prints out your desired recipe (four 4) - and includes a shopping list. A brilliant invention by a Finnish woman who knew how to entice men to the kitchen! And Pasi’s ‘reseptikone’ dinner, cooked by Tuija’s assistance turned out excellent!
I know that later today when I go food shopping, I have to allow extra time, so that I can play with the recipe machine. This, on top of the pajazzo and the slot machines that are waiting for gamblers. Yes – in the entrance area of every supermarket you have a chance to gamble your change away!
PS. I rode my bike home around midnight. I passed many people walking home from town + a few still exercising, walking briskly with poles. I did run into a young drunk outside one of the student housing units. An older man was taking care of him, and the police arrived just when I was passing by. The police seem so harmless I had to chuckle. They drive a soccer mom style minivan and arrive without sirens or flashing lights. I don’t believe they carry any guns either. I felt safe – not scared.
Reseptikone – my mind kept wondering, around the word and the idea. Kone means a machine, and it is very widely used in Finnish. There’s lentokone = a flying machine (an airplane), tietokone = a knowledge machine (a computer), partakone = a beard machine (an electric shaver), ruohonleikkuukone = a grass cutting machine (a lawnmover), etc. The word, kone, can be used alone in context to mean any of these machines, without the first part of the compound word. So, if you say, I arrived iltakoneella = on the evening machine, every Finn knows you had just flown in on an evening flight. But reseptikone still left me puzzled???
We stopped in the state liquor store, Alko, to get a bottle of wine, Vinho Verde, a young Portuguese, almost bubbly white that even I, the red wine drinker, approve of. After we arrived in Tuija and Pasi’s beautiful apartment in a thirties functionalistic style building, I walked straight to the kitchen in search of the reseptikone. But I couldn’t see any obvious strange kone. Of course, there were the astianpesukone = a dishwashing machine, kahvikone = a coffee machine, etc. but nothing out of the ordinary. Pasi was standing in front of a wok with a store receipt size, narrow piece of paper on the counter, his recipe.
And I found out about the clever invention. At any larger supermarket, you can stop by a recipe machine right by the entrance. You look up a category and narrow down to a recipe, this time Pasi had chosen Noodles with Zucchini and Prawns. The recipe machine prints out your desired recipe (four 4) - and includes a shopping list. A brilliant invention by a Finnish woman who knew how to entice men to the kitchen! And Pasi’s ‘reseptikone’ dinner, cooked by Tuija’s assistance turned out excellent!
I know that later today when I go food shopping, I have to allow extra time, so that I can play with the recipe machine. This, on top of the pajazzo and the slot machines that are waiting for gamblers. Yes – in the entrance area of every supermarket you have a chance to gamble your change away!
PS. I rode my bike home around midnight. I passed many people walking home from town + a few still exercising, walking briskly with poles. I did run into a young drunk outside one of the student housing units. An older man was taking care of him, and the police arrived just when I was passing by. The police seem so harmless I had to chuckle. They drive a soccer mom style minivan and arrive without sirens or flashing lights. I don’t believe they carry any guns either. I felt safe – not scared.
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