Ian Jarrett goes into bat for Finnish food, described by French PM Jacques Chirac as "even worse than the British".

When the French prime minister Jacques Chirac looks back on his career, the past few weeks will not be ones he will relish. Things started badly and became unbearable when London shaded the 2012 Summer Olympics vote over Paris.

Then red-faced Jacques had to front British PM Tony Blair at the G8 summit in Scotland knowing that not only had the Brits scored the Games, but that he had been caught out lambasting British food – and in particular Scottish haggis - to Russia's Vladimir Putin and Germany's Gerhard Schroeder.

(I've always wondered what heads of government talk about when they have their Super Power summits. Silly me for thinking they discussed climate change or world poverty. Now I know they bitch about the each other's cuisine.) 

The British media hit back against the ungrateful gourmet with predictable outrage, The Sun declared on its front page that Chirac should not "talk crepe"

Now I'm not here to defend British food, although I will say that London is home to 35 Michelin-starred restaurants, second only to Paris, and British chefs from Jamie Oliver to the delicious Nigella Lawson are famous the world over.

I'm standing up for Finnish food following Chirac's gibe, recorded by a French newspaper, that "the only thing that [the British] have ever done for European agriculture is mad cow disease", adding, "You cannot trust people who have such bad cuisine. It is the country with the worst food after Finland."

This remark sent me scurrying from my well-thumbed food bible, Quentin Crewe's International Pocket Food Book. It's now more than 20 years old but I value its opinions, explanations and useful words for ordering food in foreign countries.

How would you know, for example, what you were getting on your fruit salad in Yemen if you didn't know the word for ice cream is bouza dondurma?

Or that it's a myth about Arab food that a sheep's eye is always offered to the guest of honour. Quentin writes that the day he had lunch with an emir, his host gobbled up both eyes.

Under Finland, he writes, "My grandmother once had a Finnish cook. She seemed quite unable to prepare any dish. Asked what she could do, she replied succinctly, "Milk elk".

But Quentin wryly explained, "Of course, the whortleberries and forest mushrooms, the cloudberries and reindeer tongue were not freely available in Cheshire."

This week the London Times recalled the menu served to the French PM when he visited Finland six years ago

"What could be more enticing," wrote The Times, "than a terrine of lavaret, a delicate white fish from Finland's pristine lakes, a creamy soup of morels picked from the damp forests, delicate fillets of reindeer garnished with dill and lingonberries and an exotic wild fruit dessert?"

The Times also pointed out that "Helsinki boasts at least two Michelin-starred restaurants, and there are dozens of elegant eateries to tempt tourists now enjoying the long and lingering summer evenings."

My suspicion is that all those inflated egos that comprise the International Olympic Committee were not voting for the city with the best sporting facilities to stage the Olympic Games.

Quite clearly they were voting for the city with the best restaurants at which to spend their huge expense accounts.

They were voting for The Ivy in London, rather than Michel Rostag in Paris.

It was a victory for roast beef and boiled carrots over white truffles and foie gras.

*Kalakukka – literally "fish rooster", a small fish baked with pork in a rye flour crust. A Finnish specialty, according to Quentin Crewe's book.




IAN JARRETT is based in Fremantle, Western Australia from where he travels frequently in Asia on assignments for travel magazines.

He is a member of the BamBoo Alliance, a group of leading travel writers in the region. He can be contacted at ianjarrett@mac.com