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| Usually, when visiting
a new place, I make a point of trying the local food. I want to eat what
the locals eat no matter how its been prepared or what it is. The way I
see it, if its tradition then surely enough people must have survived it
to make it so. Though, when I visited Piteå in Northern Sweden this
last summer, I was little prepared for the local delicacy of rotten fish!
After a few days in this little town of
40,000 people, on the shore of the Gulf of Bothnia, I had become familiar
with a fir-tree-thick landscape in endless daylight. I had already explored
some of the local delicacies. Pite Pils, the local lager, had been first
on my list, and it appealed to my taste buds in no time. Being almost in
Lapland, there seemed to be no shortage of reindeer, and in need of a snack
whilst out celebrating with friends at one of Sweden’s biggest street fairs,
I had Souvas, a reindeer kebab.
Apart from being perhaps a bit more peppery,
it was just like my usual. My palate had also been subjected to a
sort of ‘Parma Reindeer’ produced by the nomadic Lapps, but this was like
chewing a piece of wood. Then there was Pitepalt! ... Lumbering Dumplings
resembling cartoon bombs stuffed with bits of bacon instead of gunpowder.
After I had washed down a second with a glass of cold milk, they ka-boomed
in my stomach. When my hosts began to speak of a particular kind
of fish that had not been stored properly and in a sense gone off, I began
to wonder if my philosophy to savor local tradition really should know
its limits.
Lesson 1: The herring known as Surströmming
is not rotten! To imply as such is almost criminal. |
All photos are taken from The
Joliot Hahn Summer School in Reactor Physics 2000
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| If you try surströmming, or
fermented Baltic herring, be confident that you will never forget it. It
is sold in cans, and when you open them a strong, foul smell is released.
This method of preservation was invented long ago, when brining food was
quite expensive due to the costs of salt. When fermentation was used, on
the other hand, just enough salt was required to keep the fish from rotting.
Although lots of people do not like it, you have to eat it several times
before you really appreciate the taste. There is a hard core of surströmming
devotees located in northern Sweden, where they live virtually undisturbed
by the rest of the world. |
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The fish has instead merely “fermented”.
It is preserved in a manner that would make any bon vivant of Microwave
cooking retch. Eating “Sour herring” began some centuries ago when in harder
times the local supply of salt ran out and the people were troubled. Not
for long though!
| A half-starved population with a ‘what
the heck mentality’, decided to go ahead and try storing fish without such
trifles as preservation. There must have been an almighty stink when the
first barrels of fish were opened half a year later, but despite what anyone
sane might nowadays expect, the dish that has an eau-de-toilet pan perfume
was adopted and became tradition.
If it wasn’t for the sieve of Denmark,
the Baltic Sea would be a landlocked lake. Subsequently, this semi-sea
has a very low concentration of salt. This is a quality essential for any
herring destined to become sour. The herring is caught in spring, when
it’s in prime condition and just about to spawn. Once tinned, the rot ...
sorry fermentation, can begin!!
Half a year later gases have built up sufficiently,
to cause the pressure inside the once cylindrical tins to bulge into a
ball. These unusual containers of Surströmming can now be found in
supermarkets all over Northern Sweden and have been called the Northern
Swedes' candy! I’ve even spotted tins as far away as the Spanish Costa
Del Sol where holidaying Swedes no doubt miss a taste of home. But, who
knows? Maybe it's the nude sunbathers that make them reflect on the taste
of of rotten fish.
On a sunny balcony in soaring temperatures
of 15ºC, my hosts laid out a big table for the |
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| The art of eating surströmming
is most developed in the far northern areas of Sweden where the dish is
said to have originated. It is believed by some that eating surströmming
began as a joke, but quickly caught on as way to pass months of monotonous
darkness in the winter season. Later, it was determined that eating the
delicacy actually warded off many marauding Norsemen, and others bent on
conquering the Swedes, including beleaguered Nazis, rampant capitalism,
and more recently, tourists. Even Gengis Khan avoided northern Sweden. |
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Surströmming banquet. Kalle, the head
of the household, bravely takes the tins to the bottom of the garden and
covers them in a tea towel. Looking away, trying to protect his nose with
his shoulder, he carefully opens them. He tries hard not to inhale as the
pressurized stink emanates. Once he's poured out a suspect, murky brown
liquid, he brings the can to the table. The smell is so overpowering, I
wonder if somebody nearby has a very bad stomach problem and should make
a quick exit to the crapper, or leave altogether. After awhile, though,
nobody has moved. The smell can only come from one place. I begin to have
second thoughts. Should I really introduce this “food” to my mouth just
to avoid causing offense to my hosts?
| Copious glasses of ice cold schnapps are
raised to a position directly in front of our noses. Staring into each
other’s eyes, not daring to look away for a superstitious fear of seven
year's bad sex, we toast the meal and gulp.
Skål! The sandwiching begins.
I break off a piece of the bread known
quite aptly as ‘tunnbröd’. This thin, crisp bread comes in big square
sheets which are broken up and plastered with butter. Boiled potatoes are
then peeled and sliced, and together with some chopped onion, they are
sprinkled on the bread. My hosts are particular about spuds and maintain
that only the best small new ones, due to their shape known as ‘almond
potatoes’, should be used. Then we're all ready for the piece de resistance.
I fork a whole fish from the tin and slice
it down the middle. I remove its soft insides, including the dark
gray roe, and open the fish up like a book. Stamping the red flesh with
my fork the bone loosens and it can be filleted. I cut small pieces ready
for my sandwich. The final touch - a big dollop of creme fraiche and voila!
I Take A Bite!!! |
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| A favorite prank of Swedish
High School students is to open a can of Surströmming Herring and
hide it near the central duct of the school's heating system. Before long,
the entire school becomes the scene of utter confusion and despondency.
Schools use a modern apparatus known in Swedish as a "shtenky phinkersh"
to sniff out the culprits. When caught, the guilty are sent home
in the driving snow. Repeat offenders are made to wear surströmming
around their necks for several days. Some are even made to wallow in soiled
cat litter. |
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Just as I'm expecting everybody to roar
with laughter because I've just fallen for the oldest Swedish trick in
the book, I begin to enjoy. Nobody laughs! They're all too busy with their
own meal! Some hungry individuals are already on their fifth fish! Perhaps,
its only the relief of this delicacy, not tasting as bad as it smells,
but I think I'm developing a taste for the stuff and start a second sandwich.
My initiation to Northern Sweden is
complete. |
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| Following
the initiation ceremony, the author felt like a different person, both
inside and outside. |
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| Andreas
Grundtvig, the son of a renowned Danish artist, was born in Sweden.
He spent his childhood moving from place to place, ending up in England
where he was educated. Since 1994, Grundtvig has lived in Southern Spain
and has enjoyed a variety of vocations including teaching English. He spent
two years as editor of an online sports magazine, but turned his attentions
to travel writing and back to teaching in August 2001. He has one daughter
Vanessa, and lives with his Swedish girlfriend Ulrica in La Linea. Articles
by Andreas Grundtvig have appeared in Finlandia
Weekly and at Bootsnall.com. Travels include touring Europe by train, visiting
former Yugoslav republics, and hitchhiking to the four extremes of Great
Britain. He is currently working on a book and is interested to hear from
any publishers. |
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Additional
Resources
Living Overseas 
Unique Lifestyles
Working Overseas
Living in Europe
Contact Andreas Grundtvig
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