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A RISING TIDE STORY: PICKLED HERRING ANYONE?
ABOVE: Greg Peters and Editor B debate the merits of pickled herring.
The Rising Tide Conference is over and it was a success as was the post-RT soiree at Casa Dangerblond. But that's not what I'm blogging about this morning. No, the topic is pickled herring. Yumpin' yiminy as a movie Norwegian would say.
Dr. A, Lisa, Greg Peters, Editor B and I were sitting in the Yat Club Lounge on Friday evening. The topic of pickled herring came up. Bart was the only defender of this vile Norwegian so called delicacy in the crowd. He's a very nice guy but he's from the Midwest; home of polite people, great college hoops and sour-n-bland food. Give a Middie of Scandinavian heritage a food item and they'll pickle it. Rumor has it that they used to pickle bodies in Minnesota until the Food and Drug Act was passed in 1913...
Dr. A described how one of her colleagues, who was from somewhere near Lake Wobegone, fobbed off some pickled herring on us at the end of the last century. We, in turn, took it to a party and left it there where I suspect that it lurked in the fridge until thrown away; perhaps even post-K. Whatever happened to the herring: it was out of our lives. Woo hoo. <the preceding woo hoo almost merited an exclamation point but I'm made of sterner stuff than that.>
Greg Peters grew up in the Midwest and described a typical meal in his grandparents house; all the food was white: herring in white sauce, mashed potatoes and the like. Herring, herring, herring. This is probably why Greg moved to Louisiana to get away from *really* white people eating *really* white food. Hey, Ray, does this qualify as food porn?
As we left the Yat club, Dr. A turned to me and said: "You realize that Bart has a new cause."
"What's that?" I asked.
"He'll be out to convince you that if you try the right kind of pickled herring, you'll like it."
I was skeptical. But when I got home an email from Bart awaited: Haiku for u. Here it is:
Arriving home late
No pickled herring in fridge
Must run to the store
I bet none of you has ever received a herring haiku. Well, have you?
Pickled Herring is truely delicious. No idea what you are missing!
Have you seceded from the good food lovers league? Shane has really gotten
to you, dawlin'
Hmmm, now that you mention it, you're correct--I've never received a
herring haiku. Add that to the list of things I must have before I die...
Be careful, or someone will make you try lutefisk.
Tim: It was great meeting y'all too. I hope it was just our first of many
meetings.
Midwesterners don't just pickle things. Sometime they put them in a big vat
of lye (lutefisk). And there's that damn brown cheese that requires no
other preservative. I had a piece in the door of my fridge for about three
years and couldn't defect any change it color, aroma, etc.
So Middie food is perfect for natural disasters? I belive lutefisk may have
something to do with global warming...
Well, it takes a lot of fresh water to wash the lye off, so I'm not sure it
would be perfect disaster food.
Dear Adrastos,
The Becky's have it. Particularly yummy when made with water chestnuts. My
father puts up a batch every Christmas. Will invite you to join. And
kippers, heaven. Not sure what lutefish is though. If it is anything like
gevelta (no clue how to spell it) fish, I wouldn't touch it with a ten foot
pole. Might as well eat Kozy Kitten.
Pickled herring is the midget bukkake of food porn.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: Ray you are a nasty, nasty man.
Gina is a fricking saint.
I'm so ashamed of how awful that haiku is. Really, it doesn't even qualify
as a genuine haiku except in the most superficial sense. (I should know --
my boss is the <a href="http://haikuguy.com/">Haiku Guy</a>.)
But I am not ashamed of my fondness of pickled herring snacks, preferably
Nathan's brand in white wine sauce. Yum!
Damn that define: feature in Google. I really think I could have gone
through life without knowing what bukkake is, considering the appearance of
pickled hearing. Now I know what that white stuff is, and its not hair gel.
Dear Adrastos,
This seems to be a new blog-city thing. I had a mailbox full this morning.
Methinks we need to contact our fair Mayoress.
FWIW, my lovely wife loves pickled herring. Like, a little too much.
Dear Adrastoe et al,