Swedish Pickled Herring - I enjoy eating it, but did NOT have much fun preparing it... once, only once. In fact, it was so NOT FUN that I swore I wouldn't mess with herring again. But that was in 2008. Today I went back to reread my old post, "The Great Herring Experiment", and had to giggle. Was it really all that traumatic?
There's not a fresh herring in sight today, so what brought that episode to mind? I found a Pickled Herring recipe at Hank Shaw's site Honest-Food that tempted me to try again, just one more time. But only IF I discover an easy way to get rid of all of those stubborn little bones. Please, share the secret if you know it.
Does pickling herring work as a metaphor for life? Well, it's quite a stretch to link the two. Both surprise us with unexpected challenges that invite analysis and adjustment. We can give up to avoid frustration when things don't go as planned. Or we can persist by learning new skills or developing other approaches. Forget the whole metaphor notion, I should just revisit the whole pickled herring issue again in Petersburg this Spring. Just because.
Confession: two years have passed since I wrote this draft and left it sitting unpublished in my files. We still enjoy pickled herring, the refrigerator currently holds a brand new quart jar of Vita brand labeled "wild caught of Canada". Could this be the year I take Hank's advice to ignore the tiny bones and get on with it? One more time, it's the year for Petersburg and pickled herring. Maybe... in June... or...
...and now I'm going to open that jar of store-bought herring the refrigerator and enjoy a snack. No pressure, Petersburg is weeks and miles away.
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