Fishy

A shoal of herring

I like fish. And so does my Dad. So, as a belated birthday present (his was in June), I had asked a colleague of mine who was going to Sweden, to bring back some fish for me. Herring in fact. Which I like. And so does my Dad. This fish however... was special!

Apparently this herring is a Swedish speciality. A delicatessen. It just has a bit of a rumour about it. Now, back in the old days, fish and meat was preserved by using salt. Use enough salt and you could keep fish for ages. One day though, there wasn't enough salt. But the Swedes weren't that bothered (apparently) and put it in the barrels anyway. Where the fatty tissue of the herring started to ferment. And ferment. A terrible smell started. But, still the Swedes weren't that bothered and ate the herring. It tasted good and a new dish was formed. 

Fast forward a few years and instead of barrels, they now use cans. The herring is still salted and when it starts fermenting, they wait for juuuuust the right smell and then can it. As in: put it into cans. Where the fermenting continues and the can grows in size! Which you can buy in stores. And give to your Dad as a belated birthday present.

Our can (not this brand) didn't look quite this bad,
but you could feel how it had expanded.

We had heard the stories, we had seen the videos and we were prepared: NO WAY were we going to open that can indoors. In the back of the garden, in the open air. Perfect. I set up the camera, pressed record and off we went. My Dad wielded the can-opener and the minute one hole was in, the pressure was released. Some of the liquid contents (herringy water) and some of the smell. He continued opening the can. 

But the smell was fine. My Dad brought the can right up to his nose: fine. I did the same: fine. My Mum came over: fine! That was a bit of disappointment. Ah well, the taste test then. I took a large bite of the (complete, including innards) fish and started chewing. It was awful and I started spitting it out amongst the flowers. My Dad is not one to shy away and he tried a bite as well. Smaller than mine and he never got to chewing. The minute the fish hit his tongue, he started fertilizing the flowers as well. And no: we did NOT throw up! We just spat out. 

My Dad got rid of the liquid in the can and then he (without thinking) carried the can inside to throw away. Right, did we say anything about the smell? Outside it was fine, inside however: blergh! Absolutely terrible. So, a bag was found and then my Mum walked to the outside bins (on the other side of the street) to throw it away. 

We kept smelling it though. My Mum said it might be a good idea to do the dishes, since we had both gotten it on our hands. Well, it was worth a try, but it didn't work for me. Every time I moved, it smelled. In the end it turned out one or two drops had gotten onto my shirt, causing the awfulness. It was washed that afternoon!

Of course you now want to see the video. I know you do. You lot being a curious lot. But alas, even though I pressed the right button, I hadn't set the camera to video, so nothing had happened! And me and my Dad didn't think it worth it to get another can...

PS: there are lots of videos out there, if you want to see a really funny (and yes, really gross) one, try and find 'surströmming caravan'. It had me in stitches!