Years ago, my beautiful wife introduced me to the tradition of eating pickled herring at midnight on new year's eve, in the name of ensuring good fortune for the coming twelve months. (It's no 12 grapes, but it's our tradition now...) I think it was introduced by our German or Polish ancestors as a practical joke, but we fell for it and every December 31 we forget to buy it, then go out scrambling to find some before it is too late and the year is ruined. Through years of testing this hypothesis, I can attest that this is
not an effective way to ward off bad luck, but I don't take any chances and eat it every year regardless.
This year, our good friends Chris and Pauline hosted us for a new year's eve dinner at their home. Chris comes from the same good northern European stock as my dearest spouse and he made sure we had the herring ready and available. Chris also knows how to do things right, and so the herring he set out was not the little chunks of Vita that can sneak by your tongue with a wash of the right beverage. No, these were the whole little (headless) fishes straight from Poland, skin, bones and all:
I ate mine. This better be a really good year.
My wife has dodged the herring tradition while I've preferred sardines. If offered herring on Dec. 31, I would partake. If offered a million dollars, I'd take my chances on that over the herring.
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