On Fri, 03 Apr 2009 23:55:15 +0200, Victor Sack wrote:

> Puester > wrote:
>
>> I won't eat raw fish or raw meat, either, after some microbiology
>> courses.
>
> After some microbiology courses, it would be nearly as logical to refuse
> to eat anything at all.
>
>> They served a large platter of "mixed" herring as an appetizer: Pickled
>> herring in wine with onion, in mustard, in tomato sauce, in sour cream,
>> and gravalax salmon. I was quite unhappy because I thought it would be
>> awful, but I actually liked most of it quite a bit.
>
> Herring is a religion all of its own and its supreme god is
> matjes/maatjesharing/jonge haring, as far as I am concerned. They have
> something that they call matjes herring in Sweden and the rest of
> Scandinavia, too - and it is mentioned by Apple - but it is not the real
> thing. The real thing is available practically only in The Netherlands
> and Germany. It is a very slightly salty, soft, fat, plump, tender,
> melting-in-the-mouth goodness. It can be found around the year easily
> enough, but the best appears in the sping-early summer. It is only good
> when sold quasi fresh, by the double fillet, never canned or otherwise
> packaged.
>
> Below is a delectable chapter on herring from _Apple's Europe_ by the
> late, lamented R. W. Apple jr.
>
> Victor
>
> Clupea Harengus
> From _Apple's Europe_ by R. W. Apple Jr.
>
> For the peoples who live around the Baltic and the North seas, preserved
> fish has always been a staple. Scots, Englishmen, Dutchmen, Germans,
> Danes, Finns, Norwegians and Swedes have devised dozens of ways of
> salting and pickling the catch taken off their shores. Salt cod, smoked
> salmon and mackerel and eel, pickled shrimp, the elegant cured salmon
> called _gravlax_ -- all have their honored place on the tables of modern
> Europe.
> But the humble herring (Clupea harengus) reigns supreme in
> Scandinavia. Herring bones have been discovered in Scandinavian mounds
> dating from neolithic times; in the Middle Ages it was the herring trade
> that brought the merchants of Lübeck into the region, giving birth to
> the Hanseatic League. No visitor should miss the chance to explore the
> astounding number of changes that talented Scandinavian cooks can ring
> on this ancient regional theme.
> There is such a mind-boggling array of herring recipes in Scandinavia
> that it is enough to make one believe the story, told by Alan Davidson
> in his book _North Atlantic Seafood_, that in certain Finnish villages a
> girl is not considered marriageable until she can prepare the fish
> twenty-five ways.
> Here are just a few of the commoner varieties:
>
> _Pickled Herring_. Salt herring cut into strips, pickled in a
> white-vinegar-and-sugar solution that also contains allspice and bay
> leaves, topped with red onion rings.
> _Curried Herring_. Salt herring in a cold curry sauce. _Matjes Herring
> with Sour Cream_. The only one, curiously enough, that is routinely
> encountered in non-Baltic countries, except in families with Baltic
> roots.
> _Stromming or Baltic Herring_. Split, battered, fried and then
> marinated in dill, that most Scandinavian of herbs. _Glassblower's
> Herring_. So called because it is made in a tall glass jar with carrots
> and onions.
> _Herring Salad_. Herring, beets, cucumbers and sour cream. _Smoked
> Herring_. But enough. You get the idea.
>
> The tiniest of herrings, sometimes no more than six inches long, come
> from the Baltic, and many people think that the most delectable of those
> come from the waters surrounding the Danish island of Bornholm. They
> are extremely perishable, so they are caught, cleaned and smoked on the
> same day, then rushed to Copenhagen. The smoking turns them from silver
> to reddish-gold. (Smoked herring drawn across a fox's path, the English
> discovered, destroys the scent and confounds the dogs: hence the phrase
> "red herring" for diversionary tactics.)
> As with other delicacies, the Danes tend to turn Bornholmers into
> open-faced sandwiches or smørrebrød. The herring is filleted, laid on a
> buttered side of dark bread and garnished with sliced radishes, chives,
> and sometimes a raw egg yolk. Taken with one or two smørrebrød of
> contrasting taste and texture and, of course, with a glass of potent
> ice-cold aquavit tamed by beer, they make a splendid lunch.
> In the old days, one would have sought such a meal at Oskar
> Davidsen's, a waterside pavilion in Copenhagen that listed 170 kinds of
> sandwiches on a five-foot-long menu. Alas, it is no more. But the
> daughter of the house, a cheery, round-faced woman named Ida, carries on
> the tradition in a trim little restaurant bearing her name, open for
> lunch only, at 70 Store Kongensgade. Tell her that you are interested
> in herring, and especially Bornholmers, and she will help you make an
> apt selection of smørrebrød.
> Scandinavians also eat herring for breakfast, along with cheese and
> ham and salami. You will probably find a small dish or two, perhaps one
> of herring in tomato sauce, another of plain pickled herring, on the
> overladen breakfast buffet at your hotel. They sometimes fry larger
> fish, if they are not too fat, for dinner. And at the Tre Kokker you
> will be served herring in a thin, clear, vinegar-based sauce, garnished
> with grapefruit.
> But it is in the traditional Swedish smorgasbord, it seems to me,
> that Scandinavian herring reaches its peak. And the fines smorgasbord
> in the world, without question, is the enormous copper table, fitted
> with bains-marie and ice chests and a wooden spindle to hold wheels of
> flatbread, that dominates the main room at Stockholm's Operakälleren.
> This splendid place, all deep carpets and rich panelling, is not, as the
> name suggests, a cellar, but it is, in fact, part of Stockholm's
> nineteenth-century opera house.
> Each lunchtime, the table is set, with herring at one end, other fish
> dishes, cheese, cold meats, salads and so on along the sides, and warm
> dishes at the other end. It is not done to heap your plate with a
> mishmash of delicacies; you take first as many sorts of herring as you
> like, and go to your table to eat them, accompanied by aquavit (I would
> suggest a Danish Jubilaeums or a Norwegian Linie or, for the bold, a
> spicy Swedish Stenborgare) and beer (what else but Tuborg or Carsberg?).
> When you have finished, the waiter takes your plate, and you return for
> a second, this time with other fish, a third, with cold meats, cheese
> and salads, and a fourth, with hot dishes, such as Swedish meatballs and
> Jansson's temptation, a succulent casserole of potatoes and anchovies.
> It is a slow, relaxing process, to be undertaken when the afternoon
> presents no greater demands than a long walk or a nap.
> Lunch at the Operakälleren is one of my favorite meals in Europe. I
> would no more miss it while in Stockholm, even if for economic reasons I
> had to eat hamburgers during the rest of my visit, than I would miss a
> beer garden or a _Brauhaus_ in Munich. The main reason, aside from the
> grace of the place and the kindness of the waiters in their
> old-fashioned, stiffly starched wing collars, is the herring.

Fine explanation, Victor.

On Saturdays, if we, DW and me, are in Holland, we breakfast with herring,
the Dutch way. White bread, butter and herring. Fresh, raw, Maatjes.

Next trip will be to Stockholm !!
--
Groet, salut, Wim.