‘Happiness is a place between too much and too little.’ ~ Finnish proverb
The Danish concept of hygge has a different term in Finnish: Kotoilu. Our family friend Tuija taught me that, as I was referencing some lace cookies she had made many years ago during the holidays at the Ko family home. One of their first exchange students, Tuija came from Finland, and was one of those people who were there at most pivotal moments and family gatherings from my childhood. Thanksgivings and Christmases and birthdays and graduations, she was part of the Ko household, and as such was part of my happiest childhood memories.
The Ko family considered her one of their own, and after she finished her exchange stint and graduated high school in Finland, she returned to their home to start her college career. I still remember a sepia-toned photograph of her in traditional Finnish garb which hung in the dim hallway of their Victorian home. She was the same age as Suzie’s older brothers, so we were mostly removed from their adult concerns, content to remain in the unnoticed and untroubled background world that childhood afforded. Even so, I always admired Tuija and her artistic talents. That translated into the kitchen as well, and one of the desserts I remember so well is the Finnish lace cookie platter she once made, piling them in an elegant tower atop a pretty plate.
On their own, they were little works of art – lace-like snowflakes of sugar and butter and oats that practically melted in the mouth. They were the epitome of holiday warmth – hygge and kotoilu – all comfort and joy and holiday enchantment. That memory has remained one of my favorites for many years, and during my first few holidays with Andy, I’d found an approximation of the cookies that I made for him to share the warmth they always kindled.
This winter I asked Suzie if she had the original recipe, and her Mom got in touch with Tuija and from across the ocean it arrived. There were a couple of twists from the recipe I’d been using, and these turned out closer to what I remembered. It was a happy little kitchen triumph, and I’ve learned my way around the oven in the past few months and years of cooking. I sent some to my Mom who gave them her appreciative approval.
As I was making them, the wind raged on one of the chilliest days of the year thus far, but all I felt was that charmed holiday warmth of happy memories and family connections, no matter how much time has passed, no matter how many miles are between us. Thinking of Tuija, my Mom, Elaine and Suzie, my heart was warmed, rendering winter a most magical time, and connecting me to a blissful moment in childhood. We were all together back then, and in the delicate lace veil of these sweet cookies, it was almost like we were all together again.
