Swedish Herring Is A Favorite Dish To Eat - If You Get Past The Smell

SKAGSHAMN, Sweden - Fermented herring is the national dish Swedes love to hate.

Enthusiasts savor the subtle taste, but most people turn their noses up at the dish's overpowering aroma. Some liken it to unwashed feet or ripe compost.

"Nothing would make me come close to a fermented herring. It stinks like a decomposed cheese," says Pia Heckscher. "I have never tried it."

The taste is milder than the smell, and the annual harvest is a cause for celebration among connoisseurs.

"It is an important part of the Swedish cuisine," says Otto Ekdal, chef at the Tennstopet restaurant in downtown Stockholm. "It is one of the few traditions left in our country."

He has his own tradition. The third Thursday of August is "Fermented Herring Day" at the restaurant. The event usually is fully booked.

"Surstroemming" - literally sour herring in Swedish - has been part of Swedish summers for centuries. The silvery herring are caught in the Baltic Sea in April and May, fermented in June, canned in July and eaten beginning in August.

These days, fermentation takes place in plastic containers instead of wooden barrels. Otherwise, the process is little changed since the 17th century, when fermented herring went south to Europe as war rations for Sweden's conquering armies.

Fermenting was developed as a way to preserve food harvested in summer for eating during the long Scandinavian winters. Similar processes are used to convert grapes to wine and milk to cheese or

yogurt.

Skagshamn, a village about 310 miles northeast of Stockholm, has been a center for fermented herring since the days when pots of it were brewed in fishing huts along a 186-mile coastline.

The best fermented herring comes from less fatty fish carrying roe. They're placed in brine for about 36 hours, then transferred to barrels with a lower salinity so fermentation continues at a slower rate. As that happens, the aroma grows stronger.

The wind blowing inland carries a powerful message that the dish soon will be ready to eat.

Nationwide, production is about 1.2 million cans a year. An approximately one-pound can holds about a dozen sardine-sized herring and sells for about 25 kronor ($3).

In late summer come picnics where surstroemming is the main course. It's usually served with red onions and almond potatoes, and washed down with aquavit, beer or milk.

It's the smell that sets fermented herring apart from other traditional Swedish dishes, such as cured salmon, pickled herring, smoked reindeer, boiled crayfish, flat bread, the ubiquitous Swedish meatball and black soup (made of goose and pig's blood).

Even those who love the taste often open a can of surstroemming at arm's length and immediately douse the contents with soda water.

"Eating it is a unique experience," says Jan Flanck, who serves fermented herring several times a year in his home. "You have to eat to feel it. It is a dish you consume with fellow herring lovers."

Opening a can requires dexterity. Pressure from the fermentation causes cans to swell over time. Opened inexpertly, they can spew out a liquid so intense in aroma that a trip to the shower or dry cleaners will probably be needed.