Sardines
While watching an episode of Burn Notice on blu-ray last night a random, obtuse thought popped into my head, and before I could get the brain / mouth filter into gear I spouted the word “Sardines!”
“What was that?” Karin asked with a puzzled look in her eyes.
“Sardines. I’ve never tried sardines.” I couldn’t tell you why that particular thought had suddenly come to mind. Perhaps a long dormant, forgotten brain cell decided to spontaneously fire, projecting the thought of tinned fish into my frontal lobe. Or perhaps there’s a bit of subliminal advertising going on in the episodes of Burn Notice, with the good folks at Fox Television receiving a kickback from the sardine industry with each and every can of sardines sold.
Regardless of the origin, the idea had taken root, and I was bound and determined to try a can of sardines. From that night forward, I would not feel complete as a human being until I had accomplished this task which was set out before me.
Thus, the great Monday Morning Sardine hunt began. I jumped into the S2000 and jammed over to my local grocery store, where I found the object of my quest:
Running through the self checkout line, laughing maniacally and crazy-eyed, I swiped my check card and inputed my PIN number like only a man on a quixotic journey such as mine could. Gripping my newly acquired tin of sardines, my knuckles turning white from my kung-fu grip, my butt hugging close to the ground as I rushed towards the sliding glass doors in hunched, lurching, crab-like motions. Exiting the store I dove head first into my car (which I left running in the red zone by the front door), gunned the engine, and in a cloud of thick, acrid tire smoke made haste for home base.
Karin, confused by my singularly obsessive desire for canned fish, and having recused herself in the upstairs office to avoid any confrontations, heard me burst though the garage door and shrieked, “I think you need to calm down!!”…or something to that effect. I couldn’t quite hear her, but that didn’t matter now, for my quest’s journey was about to bear fishy, fishy fruit.
Ahhhh, there it be, laddies. Canned gold!
Oddly enough, sardines taste an awful lot like tuna, only a bit more mellow. The head and tails had been removed, but on my second fish I noticed that the spine was still in place. Oh, lucky day!:
The bones of these fish are so tender you don’t even notice them as you eat. Very interesting.
And so, satiated for the moment, I made a mental note to pick up a few more cans during our next shopping excursion. I can’t help shake the feeling that these would taste fantastic in a sandwich…
First of all, Burn Notice is excellent. I think the subliminal sardine message may be from Gabrielle Anwar’s bony appearance. Maybe her sternum and spine put you in mind of a sardine’s skeleton…though the sardine’s has a satisfying pop and easy crunchiness that I’d wager Anwar’s does not.
You should try my old favorite: Sardines with crunched up salt and vinegar potato chips on white bread. Just make sure you do it in a well-ventilated area, far from your loved ones’ olfactory nerves. Eating this is equivalent to cigar-smoking in public: a rude habit foisted upon the rest of the world.
Bon appetit!
And thus, a new favorite side dish is born. Thanks, Kath!
Burn Notice and Sardines.
Two great tastes that go great together.
Welcome to the Society.
Where I live we have many canned foods from China and those which contained bones will turn out to be tender as well. I think a close match with your can or sardines would be the Pearl River Bridge Fried Dace With Salted Black Beans.
The ones in mustard are better:)