I leaned back to open the tin in case anything spurted out... but no.
In fact I couldn't understand what all the fuss was about.
And then, Jesus Christ... the smell hit me. A rancid dead dog and pla ra stench all in one. I tried to drain the juice away and got the putrid stuff all over my hands... it bladdy stank. It really was awful. I wiped my hands on my jeans by mistake... (they now stink, as does my coat and even my phone).
But what can ya do... gotta try it once you've gone that far...
Now, I can eat almost anything so long as it's not
pet maak maak... but not this. About the only thing I can't stomach is pla ra and the neighbour's dark brown Ya Dong... they both give me neck shake. But now I've found a third thing... surströmming... I cannot possibly see how anyone can enjoy, or even just stomach it.
I love fish... fresh or smoked... and it's not the slimy texture of this awful stuff... I love gravlaks and pickled herring. This was something different... you could just taste the disgusting putrid rottenness of rancid rotting fish. It was absolutely revolting... and the smell... God... a rotting stench that went right up the back of the nostrils... no way should this be food.
Back where they belong...
Never again...
Empty tin, towel and bowl... all in the bin. They were not coming back with me.
The smell...
Katie... you owe me!