Meat/Fish Aspics: Boeuf a la Mode en Gelee (beef and vegetables in aspic), Compote de Caille en Gelee (quail in aspic), Oeufs en Gelee (eggs in aspic), Sulze (pork in aspic), Carpe a la Juive/Jedisch Fisch (jellied carp), Gefilte Fish (freshwater fish dumplings in aspic), P’tcha (jellied calf’s foot)

Miscellaneous: Pasta Pagliata (with chopped calf or lamb intestines), Okroshka, Kholodynk, and Botvinia (Russian and Ukrainian cold soups), Tuna Salad Sandwich, Snoek (oily fish), Natto (fermented soybeans)

1000 Foods (pgs. 60, 68, 105 – 106, 314, 430 – 431, 436 – 437, 459 – 460, 219, 416 – 417, 633 – 634, 744, 811)

            For centuries, people have made gelatin by simmering meat and fish scraps. The time and effort necessary to strain and chill it made jellies and aspics high-status foods in the past, but times have changed. Perhaps people are still scarred by midcentury monstrosities full of hot dogs, canned fish, and mayonnaise. There are seven aspic dishes in the book, three French, one German, and three Ashkenazi Jewish. None of them sound appealing. In my mind, aspic seems like a broth or gravy that no one bothered to reheat. Cold soups have the same problem, even if they’re supposed to be cold.

            There are some dishes that, no matter how good they taste, I have trouble eating if they contain certain ingredients. This makes sense for the calf/lamb intestines in pasta pagliata (that’s where it gets its cheesy flavor), but I don’t understand why I have such a problem with ketchup, mayonnaise, and most bottled salad dressings. A dislike of mayonnaise means no tuna salad sandwiches (and the canned fish looks too much like cat food). For ketchup, the issue is so bad that I have trouble eating a dish if I think it might possibly contain ketchup (ex. sweet and sour pork at a buffet). Even watching someone else eating ketchup is difficult. I won’t say anything, but mentally I’m gagging. When I was little, I actually tried to train myself to eat it, but that went about as well as training myself to write with my left hand. That is to say, not well at all.

            Finally, I don’t like most strong-smelling, fermented ingredients. Mimi Sheraton compares the smell of natto, Japanese fermented soybeans, with the notoriously stinky Swedish herring surstromming. That alone is reason enough not to try it. Supposedly, a man in Germany got evicted after spilling a can of surstromming in his apartment hallway. When he took the landlord to court, the landlord won the case by opening a can in the courtroom. Whether the story is true or not, I would rather not risk eviction over fermented soybeans.