I just finished a story on pickling. Funny thing is, I like all sorts of pickled products, but it’s hard for me to eat an entire dill pickle. I like hamburger dills, pickled asparagus, pickled beans and, it turns out, pickled herring. Maybe the pickle spear thing is just too much for me. Do other people like the flavor, but thing a whole bugger is just too much?

About the pickled herring (I figured there was a double-take as you read herring). My friend and cubicle neighbor, Abby Holmes, is a good partial Swede. She has been touting the supreme goodness of pickled herring for the last month or two. Over the same time period, Abby threatened to bring some of the preserved fish stuff in for me to taste. Our editor warned us that we couldn’t put it in his mini fridge; I think he was afraid of stinking it up. So, last Friday, after said editor had left the building we had a feast, a feast of Wheat Thins and pickled herring. With a fair amount of trepidation — I had been warned of the stench — we opened the jar.

The verdict, by both myself and coworker Jefferson Robbins, was good for the herring. We enjoyed it quite a bit. Between the two of us and Abby, I think the jar was devoured in full. Honestly, the stuff isn’t pretty to look at, but I can definitely see why it’s been a staple of some societies. Maybe I’ll have to keep some on hand at work. Good stuff.