h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

The worst for me, it was. Lutefisk, as offered in Minnesota, USA.

I do not like fish, to begin with. Call it a psychological *thing*, I just don't. I heartily disliked it without ever even trying any. For the record, I have since been converted and will now eat fried fish, preferrably if I caught it myself and it it is served with lots of garlic. But I digress - and in any case, I would prefer a steak any day...

So, lutefisk. Defined as dried fish which is then soaked in lye for a number of days before it is cooked. Sounds ghastly? It is. Looks like... well, if you smeared some of that whitish, glutenous stuff around your lips and had your picture taken, you could pass it off as a believable imitation of certain porn pics. Erm.

My host mother, back in the day, insisted that whoever stayed with them try everything at least once. The smell of lye soaked dry fish cooking was enough to make me want to throw up. I actually wanted to throw up to dodge the meal. However, the anticipation of said meal had stopped me from eating much before so there was nothing to throw up. So... in comes Yelbakk, looking as sick as he feels, taking exactly one tea-spoon of lutefisk and lots of potatoes. I should add at this point that my host mom cooked lutefisk only once a year for her Norwegian heritage Christmas dinner, with lots of people invited. All of whom I had informed beforehand of my disliking fish in general and the idea of lutefisk in particular. Certainly not the best way to try and dodge the eating of said fish. So imagine a whole bunch of people watching me getting ready to swallow *that*. Imagine how dry your mouth can get. Imagine how self-conscious you become. Imagine trying not to chew. Imagine to get it all over with somehow.

And then imagine some smart-ass shouting, post-swallowing: "I think he likes it!"

Y.

Ouch.

I'm not a fish fan either, especially the oily ones. This lutefisk sounds ... bleurgh.

TRiG.