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Postby Bailey » Mon Sep 11, 2006 2:01 pm

gailr wrote:not a big fan of herrings, whether sandwiched, sighted or pickled

I actually like it pickled but don't like red ones.

mark don't-be-dragging-one-of-those-smelly-things-across-my-path-thanks Bailey
Last edited by Bailey on Mon Sep 11, 2006 4:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Postby Palewriter » Mon Sep 11, 2006 2:14 pm

not a big fan of herrings, whether sandwiched, sighted or pickled


I like my herrings neither red nor read. :-)

Pickled, they are delicious, in my opinion. There is a northern Swedish speciality, fermented herring (surströmming), which takes quite a strong stomach and lots of practice to enjoy. It smells of...um...long-dead fish. It's actually delicious once you get it into your mouth, but it's certainly nothing for the faint of heart.

-- PW
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Postby Bailey » Mon Sep 11, 2006 4:36 pm

The Word Detective explains that the curing process turns the fish a red color and lends it a distinctive smell. The fish was tied to a string and dragged through the woods to teach hunting dogs to follow a trail. Later, red herrings may also have been used to confuse the hounds in order to prolong a foxhunt or to test their ability to stay with a scent.

red herrings

mark just-thought-you-might-like-to-know Bailey

fermented herring sounds like a whole 'nother kettle o' fish, and not all that appetizing

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Postby tcward » Mon Sep 11, 2006 5:25 pm

Doh! Of course I meant Douglas Adams.
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Postby gailr » Mon Sep 11, 2006 7:57 pm

Palewriter wrote:
not a big fan of herrings, whether sandwiched, sighted or pickled


I like my herrings neither red nor read. :-)

Pickled, they are delicious, in my opinion. There is a northern Swedish speciality, fermented herring (surströmming), which takes quite a strong stomach and lots of practice to enjoy. It smells of...um...long-dead fish. It's actually delicious once you get it into your mouth, but it's certainly nothing for the faint of heart.

-- PW

These kinds of confessions always just amaze me. At what point did primitive man (and kids, in this case, I won't quibble that it was, indeed, primitive man) get these ideas?

PM#1: "Oi! Let's kill a fish, do horrible things to it, and when it gets really disturbing, let's see who we can get to eat it by claiming it's a delicacy!"

PM#2: "Brilliant! Then let's curdle some cow's milk, subject it to processes too graphic to describe around impressionable children, swill it about in fermented grain, and call it 'Vieux Boulogne'."

PM#1: giggles madly

PM#2: giggles madly and farts

On a cheerier topic, mates,
What kind of fish can make a pirate hear better?
A herring aid.


-gailarrrrrrrrrrrr
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Postby Bailey » Mon Sep 11, 2006 8:37 pm

can't be worse Gailr than steak tartar originally made by sitting in a hot saddlebag all day. Remember most of these ugly concoctions were first made long before refrigeration, and Oh yes, PM was a bit hardier than we are, having had a few bouts with salmonella and Ptomaine and surviving to be more resistant to these diseases.



What does not destroy me, makes me strong. [Or, What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.] Friedrich Neitzche

mark civilization-make-us-weak Bailey

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Postby Palewriter » Mon Sep 11, 2006 9:42 pm

gailr wrote:
Palewriter wrote:
PM#1: "Oi! Let's kill a fish, do horrible things to it, and when it gets really disturbing, let's see who we can get to eat it by claiming it's a delicacy!"

PM#2: "Brilliant! Then let's curdle some cow's milk, subject it to processes too graphic to describe around impressionable children, swill it about in fermented grain, and call it 'Vieux Boulogne'."


Well, PM#1 seems to exist already in the form of said fermented herring. It's actually canned (tinned, for Garzo), but by the time the can is sold, it's as round as a baseball. The unwary (or unsuspecting) opener of said can must be vewwy vewwy careful not to be treated to a high-pressure shower of juice, which smells like rotting corpses and the tenacity of skunk.

PM#2 I encountered in Norway, where they have a particularly delicate cheese, the name of which I forget. It's prepared in some arcane Viking burial process and left underground to rot for months. To say that it smells of old jockstraps in November (or cricket socks in July, Garzo) is to err madly on the lenient side. The word that flew into my mind when I was reverently offered this succulence was, I think, PUTRID.

Most cultures have a heritage of such nastiness, except for the good old US of A. Here, we must make do with cold fries from Macdonalds (ew!) or Dominos Pizza (puke!).

-- PW
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Postby Stargzer » Mon Sep 11, 2006 11:56 pm

Not herring but at least it's a (reportedly) fish: Lutefisk (of Lake Woebegon (in)fame(y) ). See the quotes at the bottom of the article.
Regards//Larry

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Postby gailr » Tue Sep 12, 2006 12:22 am

Your descriptions were beautiful, PW!

I mock these things only because my maternal heritage included a truly penitential Christmas Eve tradition. I know that the ingredients would have been valuable and appreciated by my peasant ancestors under Good King W [digression] not to be confused with any other King W that might spring to mind [/digression] and featured a suet/raisin/fish parts/other...things, simmered-for-hours concoction. Children received a single plate awash with the flotsam and jetsam of all the other menu items. Your fried fish segments, your budyoshkies (spelling is anyone's guess), your red jello sprinkled with ceremoniously-chopped walnuts, your salad, your English classics added as a nod to the other side of the family, everything. The adults said we would remember this fondly when we grew up. Man, you just can't trust people over thirty...

In the Old Country, this cheery supper was concluded by slicing apples to see who would be the first to die in the coming year. Do I come from people who know how to party, or what! :D

-gailr
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Postby Huny » Tue Sep 12, 2006 12:52 am

Ye Gods, this herring stuff is enough to gag a maggot!

Maggot: The legless, softbodied larva of any various flies, often found on decaying matter.
I would have to deep-six whatever makes PM#2 fart if I ever came across it. I wonder if herring added to the mix would make the gaffe-I mean- gas-passing odor even more confounded!!

Huny-not-trying-to-be-gross-but-wearing-a-stylish-new-gas-mask-in-the-new-fall-colors.
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Postby sluggo » Tue Sep 12, 2006 1:53 am

gailr wrote:Your descriptions were beautiful, PW!

I mock these things only because my maternal heritage included a truly penitential Christmas Eve tradition. I know that the ingredients would have been valuable and appreciated by my peasant ancestors under Good King W [digression] not to be confused with any other King W that might spring to mind [/digression]


[undigression]"You hear dat? Winkelhof is king. Good King Sauerkraut must of is dead!" -Pogo (actually might have been Churchy LaFemme?)[don't not close /undigression]

Speaking of hearings, those are some snazzy new ones on yo' icon, Gail...
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Postby Perry » Tue Sep 12, 2006 9:09 am

Stargzer wrote:Not herring but at least it's a (reportedly) fish: Lutefisk (of Lake Woebegon (in)fame(y) ). See the quotes at the bottom of the article.


Let me tell you straight up. I can't abide a fish that lyes!

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Postby Bailey » Tue Sep 12, 2006 11:23 am

oh dear, I do lack y'all's culinary experiences; Thank God!

mark not-fonda-gagging Bailey
But, this is more like it, I think y'all have been pretty wimpy lately, one little thread from the poo-buts and y'all folded like a ladies fan. Way to go guys! :D

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Postby Huny » Tue Sep 12, 2006 11:36 pm

Bailey wrote:oh dear, I do lack y'all's culinary experiences; Thank God!

mark not-fonda-gagging Bailey
But, this is more like it, I think y'all have been pretty wimpy lately, one little thread from the poo-buts and y'all folded like a ladies fan. Way to go guys! :D


Hey, I resemble that remark-Mark. :oops:

Huny -who can remove my own stitches without so much as a flinch, but my palet is a little more discriminating.
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Postby gailr » Wed Sep 13, 2006 1:36 am

Huny wrote:Huny -who can remove my own stitches without so much as a flinch, but my palet is a little more discriminating.

Now you done gone and piqued [peaked? peeked?] my curiosity, Huny...
did you mean your palet
[n. 1. (Bot.) Same as Palea.
1. A small chafflike bract enclosing the flower of a grass.
2. The chaffy scales on the receptacle of a flower head in a plant of the composite family.]


your palate Share St. John's passion for good food, devotion to friends and family, and zest for life. A Southern Palate is a mouth-watering and soul-satisfying treat that will satiate your hunger for food and so much more or your palette?

-gailr :wink:
hastily dons palettes to dodge Huny's rebuttal...
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