After moving to Finland, I’ve pretty much lost touch with the kind of barbecue I used to have back in China. The last time I had what I’d call a “proper” barbecue was about a year ago, grilling by the seaside. Finally, I couldn’t resist the craving anymore. Last Saturday, I invited a few good friends — three families, six adults, three kids, and a baby — and we had our “first” barbecue at Teurastamo in Helsinki.

In Finland, gathering ten people for one activity already counts as a “big event.”

In Finland, barbecue is actually nothing unusual. Parks and forests often have free public grills, and some even thoughtfully provide firewood. Anyone can just light a fire and start grilling.

Open from 9 a.m. to 10 p.m., completely free — just bring your own charcoal.

For Finns, this is everyday life: put a few sausages on the grill, tuck them into bread, add some ketchup, and in ten minutes the “barbecue” is done.

Finnish barbecue style, much like their lifestyle: simple and low-key.

Our Chinese-style barbecue setup, however, was a whole different story: marinating meat, chopping vegetables, skewering everything. Not only is the process complicated, but many of the seasonings and ingredients require a trip to the Asian supermarket. That’s why every barbecue feels like a rare and special occasion.

That day, everyone gathered at my home first, and then we walked ten minutes to the destination — Teurastamo. The place itself is fascinating. Built in 1933, it used to be Helsinki’s main slaughterhouse. After shutting down in 1992, it stood abandoned for twenty years before being transformed into the city’s shared “kitchen and living room.” The red brick walls, iron gates, and tall chimneys are still there, giving it a raw, industrial heritage vibe, very similar to Shanghai’s “1933 Old Millfun.” Today, Teurastamo houses restaurants, cafés, a distillery, art spaces, and also offers a public barbecue area open to everyone.

When we just arrived, it suddenly started raining, but luckily it stopped quickly, leaving only thick clouds hanging low. We carried back two big bags of charcoal from the nearby supermarket, set up the grill, lit the fire. Flames leapt up, the charcoal crackled, and the air slowly filled with that long-missed smell of smoke and fire.

We had a real “chef” in the group — you could tell from his fire-starting posture!

The six adults each took on their tasks: someone stayed by the grill turning skewers, someone prepared fruits and vegetables, someone kept adding charcoal to maintain the fire, and someone fanned the smoke to keep the heat steady. In contrast, a Finnish family nearby quietly flipped sausages and beef patties, and within half an hour they were done, enjoying coffee and chatting — the contrast was striking. Meanwhile, the three kids ran around on the grass, while the baby lay peacefully in the swaddle, curiously watching the crowd.

Yimo lay quietly in the stroller, while the kids curiously came over to greet her.

The most interesting part was when a foreigner barbecuing nearby saw our big setup. He came over to chat, and even enthusiastically helped us add charcoal and fan the fire. At that moment, people from different cultures were brought closer together by the fire and laughter.

The friendly foreigner tried his hand in front of our “chef” — a bit clumsy, but utterly endearing.

The aroma of grilled meat, children’s laughter, teamwork among friends, plus the kindness of strangers — all these moments intertwined, making us feel: even though we’re far from home, it somehow felt like home.

Not bad, looks pretty professional, right?

This time we even brought oysters — quite a lineup.

This gathering had no fancy setup and no complicated plan, yet with the coolness after the rain, the warmth of the fire, and the sincerity of friends, it became truly unforgettable. Perhaps it’s exactly these ordinary little moments that piece together the warmest memories of our life in Finland.

I really love this candid shot — calm and harmonious.

If you ever come to Finland, would you want to try a “free barbecue” like this? Or perhaps somewhere else, have you ever had a barbecue so memorable you still think about it? Feel free to share in the comments.