I Ate Gravlaks and All I Got Was This Lousy Botulism
By Katy Spindler

I'll come out and admit it: I am allergic to fish. I can snarf the mollusks, devour the crustaceans, but the little silvery scaly dudes make my mouth burn and my throat close. This divides me, of course, from those who merely say they're allergic, when they really just don't much care for the stuff. This allergy is not a particularly helpful social trait if you happen to be in Norway and your host looks around blankly as everyone else prepares to dive into freshly caught mackerel.

Fortunately, this allows me to delve into the world, nay, universe, of Norwegian fish products without having to eat any of the ghastly things. I can see the appeal of tucking into a chunk of salmon, but in Scandinavia they have thought of much more diabolical cooking possibilities than broiled and garnished with a slice of lemon.

Probably the most famous of these unusual fish dishes is lutefisk. Lutefisk is dried cod which has been soaked in lye. Lye is a chemical used to make soap. Remember the scene in "Fight Club," where it causes painful chemical burns to Ed Norton's character? Besides being a fun alternative to tribal scarring, it's also intensely poisonous. Even Norwegians don't want a meal of lutefisk to be their last, so it is very important to leave the cod under cold running water for the better part of a day to gently rinse any deathly potions out of it. After that, steam it, dump a cup of melted butter and dill over it, and, voila, fish the consistency of jelly. I should point out that my mother loves this stuff, but she is half Norwegian and probably has some sort of immunity built up.

If lutefisk sounds a little too unusual, how about some caviar? I mean kaviar with a “k.” Caviar and kaviar have very little in common. Whereas fine Russian caviar is harvested from the best sturgeons and served with a horn spoon unto rounds of melba toast, Norwegian kaviar is teeny bright pink cod eggs squeezed from toothpaste-style tube onto a cracker or a slice of bread. My husband finds this a must have condiment for sandwiches featuring sliced chicken eggs. Clearly ovum attracts ovum. In a peculiar twist, this stuff is popular with Russians so the guys packing the finest grades might be eating the lowest ones during their lunch breaks.

Kaviar sounds fine, but you're more in the mood for a salty snack? Norway can do that. Witness dried cod chips, the Norwegian Nachos. Flat, oval, and white, these look suspiciously like those rawhide chews normally intended for dogs. They also smell overpoweringly like fish, similar to many kibble brands. The advertising all shows a vacuous blonde child with a chip held close to his/her/its moist lip. I know many children do eat dog food, but an adult acquaintance swears these are very good with beer. Lots of beer. I don't believe that there is a salsa-like component to go with them. They are to be eaten straight so that the heady dried cod flavor can blanket your tongue. My particular favorite brand has a pimped out cod mascot, complete with goatee, huge biceps, and a heavy gold chain. Curiously, and I state this only as fact and not drawing any unfair conclusions, they have identical cod chips on sale in pet stores—only with dogs on the labels.

The previous examples of the bounty of the sea gone horribly wrong pale in comparison to a single simple entree: the dread gravlaks. The name itself tries to warn the eater since "grav" literally means "grave." Sometimes you'll see "gravlaks" in posh delis or hotels, but this is not the real thing. Any gravlaks that looks recently caught and is festively adorned with fresh dill is basically marinated filet that has spent a mere 24 hours in the refrigerator. This is not the real thing. At the beginning of the process, it is simply a raw filet of salmon covered in seasonings like dill and mustard seeds. Then, just when things start to sound appetizing, the fish is wrapped in a sack and buried deep in the ground for a month. When the maker gets around to digging up this delicacy, the bacteria in the fish have actually cooked it leaving it, in theory, safe to eat. However, if it is not buried deep enough or the ground isn't cold enough or any other complications ensue, it breeds a healthy colony of botulism just waiting for the buffet table. Even once in a while someone dies from eating it. Strangely, this does not seem to deter people from eating it and a curious visitor could always dig some up anytime he is in Norway. I've considered making t-shirts with the phrase "I Ate Gravlaks and All I Got Was This Lousy Botulism" but demand is surprisingly low. If you want to be bold like the Vikings, you need to risk death at every meal!

No botulism t-shirt for me, I'm afraid. Due to that pesky allergy, I will have to pass on the fish and help myself to some freshly boiled North Sea shrimp, plump clams, pinkish lobsters, crimson Norwegian King Crab, and possibly a few delicate local mussels steamed in white wine and garlic. I'll be just fine! Please don't let me stop you from enjoying your fish meal. Heaven knows, I would hate to be rude.

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Katy Spindler has photos of all this delicious/diabolical stuff. Come to http://thoughtfulrabbit.blogspot.com and bug her to put it up. Please also see http://www.anthrid.etsy.com.

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