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fish.
I went outside wearing shorts, a t-shirt and sandals this afternoon. M and I walked around the yard, and spring is so, so here. It is fabulous. Wonderful. Lovely, lovely weather. However, our yard? Yeah. No more walking around in sandals until we get rid of the damned moles and rid the yard of the soft bumpy spots. I nearly fell down a dozen times. I should really stop drinking so much. Ha! Bet that one made you blink. No, no drinking, just gracelessness. As usual.
I asked M what I should write about. He said fish. I don't have a whole heck of a lot to say about fish, except that he took his signature fish dish to the SHSK (going to start abbreviating.. it's the Scandinavian club) dinner on Saturday. This is a fish product that is so stinky that I really don't like it when he makes it, and no, it's not surströmming or anything like that. It's just smoked herring that's been marinated with red onions and apple cider vinegar. (Nasty stinky canned fish! AND HE ADDS VINEGAR AND ONIONS. Freak.) Apparently this is something his mama makes, and it is to be eaten with cracker/bread*. I feel no qualms in admitting that I haven't even tried it because a) I don't eat fresh fish if I can help it, unless it's been breaded and deep-fried, and b) eww, yuck-o. Anyway, it goes over surprisingly well, especially in this particular setting, for some reason ;) but he took it to work once when they had a potluck, and they actually ate all of it. So. Umm, the point. I had one. I was fiddling around in the kitchen this afternoon and noticed that the Kroger bag that contained the cracker things we bought for the nasty fish on our way there the other day was sitting by the sink still. Then I noticed that it was tied together at the top and thought.. that's odd, why would M bring the bag in and retie it after he took the leftover fish out? And then I realized. HE DIDN'T TAKE THE FISH OUT. Ewww. I made the executive decision to throw out the cheap plastic container rather than risk opening an already stinky item that's been sitting at room temperature for four days. I think it was the right one.. the smell would probably never have come out anyway.
*There is Discussion in the Yayer household as to whether or not this product qualifies as a bread item, but regardless, if you're not familiar with it, then it's more similar to crackers in form and taste and texture--whether or not you want to call it bread.
Also, "fish" is something that M and I say sometimes when we're expressing definite, strong, final agreement, accompanied by a decisive nod. It's been a thing since before we were married, and we were playing Go Fish in Swedish. Instead of "go fish", you say "finns i sjön", which translates to "is in the lake", roughly, but it means "go fish." But see, "sj" is the most unnatural sound ever uttered, and at the time, I couldn't say it most of the time, and the whole reason we were playing in Swedish was for practice, so I would get stuck on it every. single. time. "Finns i hun. whun. shun. Hun. Sjön." And then I would look pleased with myself and nod in that definite sort of final way. We played this a lot because.. well, that's another post. Anyway. Finally, after many repetitions of this, M finally sat back in his chair and laughed his ass off. "Fish!" he would say, before laughing again, and that was all I could get out of him at first. *nod* "FISH!"
Apparently there is a threshold for how many times you can hear the equivalent of "Go fish. Fish. Fish. Fish. FISH!" before you have to laugh or explode. M laughed. And now, "fish" means something completely different in this household than it does in yours.
And that is really all I have to say regarding fish. I can hear a certain someone breathing a sigh of relief.
I asked M what I should write about. He said fish. I don't have a whole heck of a lot to say about fish, except that he took his signature fish dish to the SHSK (going to start abbreviating.. it's the Scandinavian club) dinner on Saturday. This is a fish product that is so stinky that I really don't like it when he makes it, and no, it's not surströmming or anything like that. It's just smoked herring that's been marinated with red onions and apple cider vinegar. (Nasty stinky canned fish! AND HE ADDS VINEGAR AND ONIONS. Freak.) Apparently this is something his mama makes, and it is to be eaten with cracker/bread*. I feel no qualms in admitting that I haven't even tried it because a) I don't eat fresh fish if I can help it, unless it's been breaded and deep-fried, and b) eww, yuck-o. Anyway, it goes over surprisingly well, especially in this particular setting, for some reason ;) but he took it to work once when they had a potluck, and they actually ate all of it. So. Umm, the point. I had one. I was fiddling around in the kitchen this afternoon and noticed that the Kroger bag that contained the cracker things we bought for the nasty fish on our way there the other day was sitting by the sink still. Then I noticed that it was tied together at the top and thought.. that's odd, why would M bring the bag in and retie it after he took the leftover fish out? And then I realized. HE DIDN'T TAKE THE FISH OUT. Ewww. I made the executive decision to throw out the cheap plastic container rather than risk opening an already stinky item that's been sitting at room temperature for four days. I think it was the right one.. the smell would probably never have come out anyway.
*There is Discussion in the Yayer household as to whether or not this product qualifies as a bread item, but regardless, if you're not familiar with it, then it's more similar to crackers in form and taste and texture--whether or not you want to call it bread.
Also, "fish" is something that M and I say sometimes when we're expressing definite, strong, final agreement, accompanied by a decisive nod. It's been a thing since before we were married, and we were playing Go Fish in Swedish. Instead of "go fish", you say "finns i sjön", which translates to "is in the lake", roughly, but it means "go fish." But see, "sj" is the most unnatural sound ever uttered, and at the time, I couldn't say it most of the time, and the whole reason we were playing in Swedish was for practice, so I would get stuck on it every. single. time. "Finns i hun. whun. shun. Hun. Sjön." And then I would look pleased with myself and nod in that definite sort of final way. We played this a lot because.. well, that's another post. Anyway. Finally, after many repetitions of this, M finally sat back in his chair and laughed his ass off. "Fish!" he would say, before laughing again, and that was all I could get out of him at first. *nod* "FISH!"
Apparently there is a threshold for how many times you can hear the equivalent of "Go fish. Fish. Fish. Fish. FISH!" before you have to laugh or explode. M laughed. And now, "fish" means something completely different in this household than it does in yours.
And that is really all I have to say regarding fish. I can hear a certain someone breathing a sigh of relief.
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And I hate calling Wasa "crisp bread" because no one here knows what the hell that is. I actually had Wasa and laughing cow cheese for lunch and all the ladies were confused about it. They had never seen such a thing.
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I try to steer clear of the kitchen when there is stinky fish being prepared, but if it's properly sealed in the fridge, I don't mind it.. as long as it's properly sealed and with no stink.
As for the crisp bread, I never got the hang of eating it. I think it's because I'm not a big spreader-of-things, in general, and they're way too dry to eat plain.
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