Pine tar: The surprising, smoky goo that Finns can't stop eating

Once used to waterproof boats and treat infections, this smoky plant byproduct is now used to flavour everything from schnapps to bread. But how does it taste?

I've been in the sub-Arctic city of Oulu, Finland for only a few hours when I'm caught under a torrent of late summer rain. I take refuge in a cafe and order a coffee and sugar-dusted pannukakku (a thick pancake). The waiter asks me, "What flavour? We have almond, tar, blueberry..."

I'm certain I've misunderstood: "Did you say tar?" He nods nonchalantly.

Welcome to Oulu, the northern Finnish city where terva (pine tar, usually translated in English simply as "tar") is on the menu. Produced by heating pine wood without oxygen, this thick, dark substance flavours everything from lager to ice cream, lending a distinct, rich smokiness.

"It's an intense flavour, so a little goes a long way," says Matti Moller of the Arctic Food Lab, an initiative showcasing northern Finland's culinary culture. "But it's brilliant to experiment with in everything from fish to desserts."

To Finns, pine tar's aroma has long been associated with wooden boats, summer cottages and sauna scents. So what's the recent culinary appeal?

I've decided to find out.

Hugging the northern coast of the Gulf of Bothnia, Oulu is renowned as a tech hub, and as the European Capital of Culture 2026, this scenic Baltic port city is flooded with events this year.

Yet just two centuries ago, Oulu had a very different reputation. Encircled by dense pine forests and the winding channels of the Oulujoki delta, it was famed as the tar capital of the world.

"Oulu has been a major trading hub since the 15th Century thanks to its position on the Oulu River," says local guide Sirpa Törmä. "By the 1860s, it had become the world's largest tar-exporting port."

Essential for waterproofing wooden sailing ships, tar was produced by smouldering wood in tar pits across villages along the river, then transported in narrow boats to Oulu's harbour for global export.

Thanks to its antibacterial properties, tar had also long been used as a natural wound treatment all over Finland. "As the well-known saying goes: 'If sauna, spirits and tar do not help, the disease is fatal,'" explains Ritva Kylli, a food historian at the University of Oulu.

But how did it make its way to the Finnish palate?

Tar-as-flavour made its debut on pharmacy shelves. Archives at the National Library of Finland reveal that tar-flavoured medicinal lozenges date back to the early 1900s, and Oulu's local papers advertised tervakaramellit ('tar sweets') as early as 1902. "These were medicinal lozenges sold in apothecary shops for coughs and respiratory diseases," says Kylli.

Even if not every Finn enjoys the taste of tar, virtually everyone has tried the iconic black terva pastille. The nation's most famous brand is Terva Leijona (Tar Lion), sold to this day. Launched in 1933, the pastilles were created by Oulu pharmacist YW Jalander after watching locals inhale smoky tar fumes for their health. Facing low profits, he invented a tar essence (tervaessanssi) and infused it into liquorice pastilles, which he sold through his confectionary company, Merijal. Terva Leijona eventually changed hands, but it is still made using his recipe.

As popular as they were, tar didn't make the leap from pastille to gourmet treat until the end of the 20th Century, says Kylli, as living standards rose and interest in regional heritage cuisine grew across the country: "[It] seems to be connected to a growing interest in the cultural memory of Oulu's tar economy, a trend spreading beyond northern historical trade routes to all of Finland," she says. "It was reimagined into a distinctive heritage flavour."

Matti tells me he buys tar chocolate and syrup a few times a year.

"The taste is unique – sweet, smoky, medicinal and completely unmistakable," he says as we walk across the picturesque island of Pikisaari, connected to Oulu's city centre by a short bridge. "Why do we love it? Perhaps we're tasting our roots, the Finnish forest and our heritage."

The Oulu region, as the historic heart of the pine tar culture, has also become the symbolic centre of pine tar cuisine, with a high concentration of restaurants, cafes and bakeries that produce terva foods.

At Pekka Heikkinen, a family bakery in Kajaani founded in 1913, owner Kaisa Marin bakes traditional bread and pastries. "Tar boats used to sail right past our bakery to Oulu," she explains. "When pine tar food innovations emerged in the '90s, it was natural to start baking tar-flavoured bread."

For Marin, the connection is deeply personal: "My grandmother washed my hair with tar shampoo in the sauna, and our cabin's boat was sealed with tar. To me, the scent is cosy, nostalgic and rooted in home. I love it!" She always keeps thinly sliced tar bread in the freezer, ready to fry in butter when guests arrive. Though not for everyone, she warns it can be addictive. "My uncle, a master confectioner, created a rich tar chocolate that we bake every Christmas. We've even made cakes with pine tar and spruce needles."

Rina Hirviniemi, owner of the cosy Kahvila Kiikku, also bakes tar bread at least once a week, usually pairing it with gravlax. "In summer, I serve vanilla ice cream with tar syrup, and in winter, we grill with tar outside," she says. "I like keeping tar products on hand, though I don't put them on the menu – I have an eye for people I can recommend it to."

Convinced, I decide to – literally – bite. According to Marin, ice cream is the best starting point for tar newcomers, so I head to Market Square's ice cream van. Cone in hand, I sit by Toripolliisi, the brawny bronze police statue keeping watch over the square, and take my first hesitant taste.

A smoky-sweet aroma rushes from nose to palate – the unexpected whiff of bacon. Yet, it's surprisingly sweet. Intrigued, I can't stop eating. Bite by bite, it completely wins me over.

Just as Marin predicted, I find myself becoming addicted. I head next to ChocoSomnia, an Oulu chocolate maker. "We make tar pralines, chocolate bars and tar coffee. We get curious first-timers, but also loyal regulars," says co-owner Mika Lähteenmäki. Sampling a square of dark chocolate infused with pine tar and cranberry, I'm struck by the balance of smoky depth, rich cocoa bitterness and soft berry sweetness; the very taste of a pine forest in midsummer.

I can't stop there. My local friend leads me to a supermarket for Terva Leijona pastilles. Like impatient children, we tear open the box and pop the tiny black sweets. Instead of subtle sweetness, an intense, smoky rush clears my airways. My friend introduces me to two of his mates, and I discover that local usage varies widely: some drizzle tar syrup on bacon, others serve tar schnapps before nights out. For others still, tar candies reign supreme.

While most Finns buy ready-made tar products, today's skilled chefs craft them from scratch. This is what brought me to Lasaretti, a restaurant tucked into the riverfront oasis of Oulu's Hupisaaret Park. Today, head chef Laurance Robinson is serving smoked whitefish pasta with tar pearls, pickled fennel and red onion. "I can't build a tar pit, so I buy flavouring from Kujala's farm to make my syrup for sweet and savoury dishes," he says. "Balancing its strong, pungent taste took time." Resembling caviar, the tar pearls burst in my mouth against the whitefish, sharp fennel, and sweet archipelago bread. It is pure umami with subtle smokiness.

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Originally from the Isle of Man, Robinson cooked across Europe before settling in Finland. "I'll never forget my first taste of tar in 2011 – a sauna soda from my future father-in-law. It tasted like an ashtray at first, but the smokiness mellowed. Later, when I had the freedom to experiment, I said, 'I want to be the tar chef.'" His tar pavlova recently won best dessert at an Oulu culinary contest. "I wonder how far I can push it."

Watching passersby drift through the sunny park, I marvel at how tar shifted from a maritime necessity to the flavour of local identity. "You know what," says my friend. "I've had a horrible headache since morning, but after eating this dish, it's completely gone."

I can't promise it cures headaches, but in every sense, tar remains a uniquely Finnish ingredient that still works its quiet magic.

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