lutefisk and loonies

Oh what a memorable dinner it was. Let's start with the loonies. They are always there, my boss's two kids, three and five. They have more energy than the synchrotron downriver and bounce around the apartment aimlessly and tirelessly. When I walk through the door, they suddenly find focus and climb up and down me. I get rid of them by throwing them on the sofa in a nice parabolic arch. They don't seem to mind but come back for another toss. Fifteen minutes later I'm exhausted. Water for me, please. Wine would knock me out.

A while later, dinner is ready. This is when lutefisk comes into play. Here's the background. I went to Oslo two weeks ago. My boss likes fish. She asked me to bring something. In Oslo I heard lutefisk mentioned a lot, apparently something that Norwegian gourmets eat during Christmas season. On my last night, I went to a grocery store and happened upon it, an innocent looking fish, virginally white meat, a full four pounds of it, vacuum-sealed for convenience. I bought it and brought it with me. I was oblivious of what I had got.

My ignorance was dispelled yesterday when I read about lutefisk on wikipedia. The dinner suddenly didn't seem like such a good idea. Eating a bit of lutefisk is apparently like vomiting a little. It's just as bad as a lot. This has to do with the way the fish is prepared.

It starts out as cod and is dried. Nothing unusual so far. Fish is dried for preservation in a lot of places. The Norwegians figured out it'd be a good idea to rehydrate the thing and then soak it in sodium hydroxide for two days. It's still considered food at this point. To make it non-toxic, it's washed in water for another six days. I was praying the fish I bought had gone through the washing step.

In its plastic wrap, the fish looked like any self-respecting fish, but it didn't take the half hour cooking too lightly. What came out of the oven was hardly recognizable, a translucent gelatinous mass spreading across the baking tray.

In good agreement with all the malice on wikipedia, the fish tasted very foul indeed. It was as if the animal had swum one too many laps in a hyperthermal pond and then been mashed into goo, from which strong sulfurous odors were now exuding. The challenge was substantial, but all guests braved it and tasted their share, though the host declared it inedible almost upon seeing it. I tried to trick the loonies into eating by claiming this was "que pour les grands" but after one try they would have no more of this nonsense.

Good for us that there were also potatoes and ratatouille and, best of all, ice-cream and cake. There was also no way of avoiding the wine now, excellent as always in this house. As the aftertaste of lutefisk was fading out, we started to arguefy why Norwegian ever came up with lutefisk and why it is considered a delicacy. Does it come down to guilt for Viking aggressions? Are they still doing penance for sins committed centuries ago? And why did I decide to join them? I could have gone over and played with the loonies just so.