I am obviously not a very faithful practician of Christianity. That much should be inferred from this site. I employ more secular forms of ethics, which deviate from the religious system of absolutes.
So what is this edict of giving something up for a few weeks to demonstrate piety about? Is it a moral reset to prevent personal decadence? The practice doesn’t make me feel like a better person. Would I give up caffeine and explain to my coworkers that I’m incredibly cranky and late to meetings because I’m currently trying to appreciate Jesus’ suffering? I fail to see the net gain for anyone in that scenario.
But as it is, Christians eat fish on Friday during Lent for this reason – because it’s giving up “meat” for one day a week and therefore a personal sacrifice. I don’t think this lesson is very effective, given the ubiquitous excitement for Friday Fish Frys and the restaurant deals that run during this time. Eat a fillet of fried cod instead of a burger? Oh darn. Such a demonstration of faith! Such self-inflicted suffering!
Whatever the reason, it’s also tradition. I like fried fish, any my in-laws like Catholic customs. So here we can align on the end goal, if not the reasoning. Fish fry it is!
Plus onion rings. Yum!
But wait! It gets better.
If we’re going to eat fish and “suffer” for Jesus, let’s actually suffer. This can, gifted to my by my sister several years ago, contains Surströmming! Dun dun dunnnnnnnn. Frequenting the top of many a lazy blogger’s “stinkiest foods in the world list”, this funky fish hails from Sweden. What begins as an already stinky fish – herring – becomes enhanced through years of fermentation. I thought shrimp paste and fish sauce were bad. Oh no, Asians got nothin’ on the Scandinavians.
Having passed this can back and forth with my mother-in-law who talked a big game but then chickened out, it made a fitting appearance at our annual Catholic fish fry. And, ignoring cautions from my sister about opening it under water, I dug in a can opener with conviction and promptly sprayed the deck with primordial marinade. But at least I opened it outside.
Imagine a sweaty foot stepping on a washed up dead fish in a saltwater marsh. Apply that visual imagery to your sense of smell and you’d be close. Then think of that bag of greens you left sealed in the bag in the fridge until they got slimy, combined with a raw fillet of fish that you didn’t get to in time but wondered upon discovery if it wasn’t too late too cook and opened to find out. That would be how it tasted – as well as how it felt.
Traditionally, it’s meant to be served in very small portions upon other strong foods – somewhat in concept to a solid version of the aforementioned fish sauce and shrimp paste. Sensing a lack of group interest, however, I decided to dive right in and get the experience over with.
I could sort of comprehend a culinary use. My conclusion, however, was that this was invented by an old Swede who couldn’t taste anymore and kept yelling at his kids to feed him something nice and fishy like he remembered.
Points for bravery at least. Perhaps the Vikings of old, and Jesus, would be proud.
–Simon