Day Two Hundred Forty Two

It's That Time of Year

With apologies to Christmas music purists:

"It's that time of year
When I gross everyone out

It's that time of year
For pickled herring salad"

(You will never be able to hear that song again without cursing me.)

Yes, my friends, a tradition in my family that used to make my stomach churn, but has mysteriously become extremely important in my old age, is my German grandmother's herring salad. My grandmother bordered on fanatical when it came to the ingredients. The herring had to come in a keg; apples had to be Red Delicious; pickles were non-garlic dills and everything had to be chopped to an infinitesimal size.

 

I have adapted the recipe to suit my laziness taste. The original recipe calls for herring packed in brine, dill pickles, Macintosh apples, chopped onion, boiled potatoes, sour cream and buttermilk. All of the ingredients must be finely chopped and mixed together with the sour cream and buttermilk.

When we lived in Pittsburgh, my poor hubby was often called upon to pick up the herring. It was in a fish market (aka somebody's basement) in the Hill District. He was chosen for this "honor" because he was a newcomer to the family - and the size of a linebacker. Those of you familiar with Pittsburgh immediately understand the reference. Those of you who aren't, think Hill Street Blues. Too young for that? Google it.

Here are a few things I simply can't do/use:
1) The herring my grandmother used came whole, in a keg. Her kitchen smelled so bad when she was skinning, beheading and fileting the poor fish even the fish were grossed out. I'm pretty sure her fingernails fell off every year and only grew back in time to fall off again each December. I have substituted already pickled herring filets in sour cream. The work has been done for me.
2) I hate buttermilk. It is halfway to vomit, in my opinion. My version omits that odious product.
3) I am on a low carb diet, so I have also eliminated the potatoes. I am perfectly happy with herring in sour cream, chopped (Envy or Sweet Tango) apples and German dill pickles.

I have made this every day for about two weeks. My husband doesn't say anything but I know this grosses him out. While I am sitting in my comfy chair, watching TV and chowing down on a low-carb version of herring salad, he finds ways to be otherwise occupied. The cats, however, think this is the greatest thing in the world. They look at me like I am huge, privileged cat. I tell them I can't share because the ingredients are toxic to cats. They aren't, but I'm not sharing.

Boo! was on a tear yesterday. She was into and on top of everything. The only Christmas decorations I have displayed this year are practically on the ceiling.

 

 

 

So far, thanks to ssscat, the tree is still standing. We opted out of adorning the tree. Andy said it would be too much of a temptation for Boo! and Dash. Everyone else is too lazy to care about Christmas decorations.