Bremen Fish Patty Sandwiches: Fischfrikadellenbrötchen

This is a fish sandwich that thinks it's a "hamburger," but it can't be, because it's from Bremen ... A little German humor, because a "Hamburger" isn't just a sandwich, it is also the name for a person from Hamburg; so, it can't be a "hamburger," because it's from Bremen ... oh the hell with it! Just remember, it's good, sloppy, but good! 

"Fischfrikadellenbrötchen" is one of those German words that strikes fear into the hearts of people learning German, because it looks so intimidating. The thing is, you simply need to break the combined word into parts: Fisch-frikadellen-brötchen; so, fish-patty-roll, with roll in this case taking the meaning you make the sandwich with it. German also uses "Brot" (bread) in this same sense; that is, typically a "one slice sandwich," often coupled with the other component, like "Käsebrot" (cheese sandwich) or "Schinkenbrot" (ham sandwich), the plural simply adds an 'e' to the end. German also borrowed the word "Sandwich" from English, but that generally means two slices of bread are used. The capital 'S' is correct, as all German nouns are capitalized. Fish patty sandwiches in northern Germany are often called "Bremer."

 

For this sandwich, northern Germans tend to use "Seelachs" (also known as "Köhler"), which is known in the British Isles as "coley," "coalfish" or "saithe," but in North America it is often known as "Atlantic pollock." Likely when Americans hear "pollock," they think of what is usually "Alaskan pollock," a fish related to the "Atlantic pollock," but not quite the same. The German "Seelachs" name, which literally means "sea salmon," has confused the issue even more, as it makes people think the fish is a type of salmon, which it is not. All of these fish names and this slight difference with this one and that little difference with that one may drive you nuts. The firmer white fish are better for making the patties, so here's a little list, mainly for North Americans, and these are certainly not the only fish that qualify: Alaskan pollock, tilapia, cod, haddock, flounder, halibut. If you live elsewhere in the world, you may well already know the fish commonly sold in your part of the world; otherwise, just do a little checking. 

 

These sandwiches aren't meant to be easily eaten and they are sloppy, but delicious. 

 

 

Ingredients (serves 4):

 

For the fish patties:

1 pound pollock, cod or other white fish

1/2 cup finely chopped or grated white onion; you don't want big pieces, as it likely won't cook properly

2 tablespoons finely chopped parsley

1 cup fine breadcrumbs, divided use

1 egg

2/3 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon lemon juice

2 or 3 tablespoons oil for frying (more if needed)

To assemble the sandwiches:

1 medium onion cut into rings, then sauteed in one tablespoon butter + 1 teaspoon oil 

4 slices tomato

4 lettuce leaves

3 inch piece of cucumber, peeled and thinly sliced

12 slices dill pickle 

6 tablespoons remoulade* or tartar sauce**

4 tablespoons ketchup

4 buns

lemon sections for serving

 

Rinse the fish, but drain it on paper towels or pat the fish dry; you don't want any extra moisture going into the fish patties. Finely chop or process 2/3 pound of the fish. Then chop the remaining 1/3 pound of fish somewhat more coarsely for texture (not in any big chunks). Add the finely and coarsely chopped fish to a bowl, and then add the finely chopped onion, 2/3 cup breadcrumbs (you will still have 1/3 cup left), parsley, egg, salt, pepper and lemon juice, mix together well, chill the fish mixture in the refrigerator for at least one hour, remove, and with lightly moistened hands, form into 4 patties (keep the thickness the same as possible, with the overall patties not being too thick, or they won't cook properly, as the outside may get too brown, but in the thicker part it may not cook through completely). Put the remaining 1/3 cup breadcrumbs on a plate and gently press each patty into the breadcrumbs to coat them all over. Heat oil over medium heat and then fry the patties, allowing the underside to form a bit of a crust before turning the patties over to finish cooking (this can help hold them together). In a separate smaller skillet, melt 1 tablespoon butter and add 1 teaspoon sunflower oil or vegetable oil over low heat. Add the onion rings from the medium onion and saute until the onion rings are softened and browned. Spread 3 tablespoons of remoulade or tartar sauce on the bottom half of the buns, which will help hold a lettuce leaf and 3 pickle slices on each bun, then place a fish patty on top of this, then top the fish patties with some cucumber slices and tomato slices, then put some browned onion rings on top of each sandwich and add a tablespoon of ketchup to each. Finish by spreading the remaining 3 tablespoons remoulade or tartar sauce on the top bun and cover the sandwich. Serve with lemon wedges.     

 

 

* For French remoulade sauce, here is the link:  https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2020/08/french-remoulade.html 

 

** For homemade tartar sauce, here is the link: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2016/09/homemade-tartar-sauce.html

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Schmaltz-This word is related to "melt," a word from the Germanic roots of English, to "smelt," the verb meaning "to soften or melt ore in order to separate metal from it," a word from Germanic, but in this form likely borrowed from Dutch and Low German, (the noun "smelt," the name for a type of fish is "perhaps" also related, but that is not a certainty), and to the main part of "enamel," which is Germanic derived, but borrowed by English from French, which had it from Germanic Frankish. "Schmaltz" goes back to Indo European "meld," and to its extended variant form "smeld," which meant, "to soften, to make soft." This gave Old Germanic "smalta," which meant "soft fat or grease," and this gave Old English "smolt," with the same meaning, and Old High German "smalz," also with the same meaning. The English form died out, but the German form later became the modern form "Schmalz," meaning "softened or melted animal fat," and regionally in some German speaking areas, "clarified butter." Yiddish developed in the Rhineland area of Germany. It was based upon the High German dialect of that area, with elements from various German dialects, Hebrew, Slavic, and some Latin-based languages, like Rumanian. It was initially referred to as "taytsh/taytsch" (which meant "German," compared to Middle High German "tiutsch" and modern German "Deutsch"). Yiddish had the word as transliterated "shmalts," which also had the "animal fat" meaning, but over time it came to usually mean "chicken/goose fat." The meaning "excessive sentimentality" also developed, but I'm not sure if that meaning developed first in German or Yiddish, as both have it, and long ago the two languages were so closely linked, it's hard to say. English borrowed "schmaltz" in the "animal fat/chicken/goose fat" context in the mid 1800s, likely from German immigrants to America (Jewish immigration became much more prominent a little while later, and that undoubtedly reinforced and boosted the culinary use of "schmaltz"), but the "excessive sentimentality" meaning seems to have come from Yiddish in the 1930s; thus also, "schmaltzy" developed.         

Portuguese Fried Fish Fillets: Filé de Peixe Frito

It's not uncommon for the Portuguese to simply fry fish in hot oil: no flour, no egg, no batter, just fish with head on in oil. Others may dredge the fish in some seasoned flour (some use corn flour), and then there is this method, which at first glance, you may think old Randy has wrongly typed into the text. What do I mean? Well typically, fish or other food items that are breaded are dipped into beaten egg, THEN tossed or rolled in flour or breadcrumbs. The Portuguese reverse the process by putting the fish into flour, then dipping the floured fish into beaten egg. When I first saw this, I was positive the author had made a mistake, but then I saw other recipes with the same process. It's all quite easy, made easier if you have a deep fryer, which will make the frying much faster, but you can put enough oil into a skillet to cover the bottom with about 1/4 inch of oil (more is even better, of course) and fry the fish that way, turning them over a few times to be sure they cook evenly. The fried fish fillets are often, but not always, served with Portuguese Tomato Rice,* and it's my understanding that some Portuguese serve the fillets with fried potatoes, perhaps in imitation of British fish and chips. You can buy pre-cut fish fillets, or you can cut the fillets yourself, but try to keep the fillets at about 1/2 inch to 3/4 inch thickness. The time needed to cook thick fillets will likely result in the breading being too dark or even burned, and Portuguese fish fillets are a nice light golden color.

 

Ingredients (4 or 5 servings):

1 1/2 pounds fish fillets (cod, haddock, sea bass and halibut are all good for this)

1 1/4 to 1 1/2 cups all purpose flour

2 teaspoons salt

1 tablespoon sweet Spanish paprika (naturally Portuguese, if you have it)

1 tablespoon garlic powder

1 teaspoon ground white pepper

3 eggs (might require another egg)

2 lemons, cut into wedges

oil for frying

 

Heat the oil over medium heat. While the oil is heating, the breading process is simple and you will only need two shallow dishes. Rinse the fish fillets and pat them dry with paper towels. In the first dish, add the flour, salt, sweet paprika, garlic powder and white pepper, then mix everything together well. In the second dish, add the eggs and whisk them briefly (we're not looking for frothy eggs!). Put a fillet into the seasoned flour and turn it to coat (don't forget the sides), shake lightly to remove excess flour and then dip the fillet into the beaten egg to completely coat it. Again, let the excess egg drip off. Put the fish fillet into the hot oil and quickly bread and add another fillet to the oil. Don't put too many fillets into the oil at any one time (I used a 10 inch cast iron skillet, and fried two fillets at a time). Turn the fillets a couple of times to be sure they are cooked through. The frying should take about 5 to 8 minutes for two fillets at a time, depending upon the thickness of the fillets and the temperature of the oil (if you use a deep fryer, it will likely take a couple minutes less time to cook them). Put the fried fillets on a platter lined with paper towels to absorb excess oil. Serve with tomato rice or fried potatoes and with a lemon wedge or two for each serving.    

 

* For the recipe for Portuguese Tomato Rice, here is the link: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2021/09/portuguese-tomato-rice-arroz-de-tomate.html

 

  

WORD HISTORY:

Program-This word is most commonly spelled "programme" in Britain. The main body of the word is distantly related to "carve," a word from the Germanic roots of English, and it is more closely related to the many words with the endings "gram" and "graph" ("gram" is not always a suffix), which are of Greek origin (examples: cardiogram, anagram, grammar, phonograph, photograph, pictograph). The "pro" part of the word goes back to Indo European "per," which meant "in front, in advance, before," and this gave transliterated Ancient Greek "per(i), which also meant "before." The "gram" (gramme) part of "program" goes back to Indo European "gerebh/gerbh," which meant "to scratch," which back a few thousand years ago had the further notion of "writing;" that is, "to scratch on stone or clay tablets with a sharp instrument." This gave transliterated Ancient Greek "graphein," meaning "to scratch, to carve;" thus also, "to write." The two parts together gave transliterated Ancient Greek" "prographein," meaning "to set forth to the public." This gave Greek the noun "programma," meaning "a written notice to the public," which was borrowed by Latin as "programma," meaning "a proclamation," and French took it as "programme." English borrowed the word in the 1630s from French (especially in the spelling "programme"), but with heavy influence from Latin. Gradually, the meaning began to move much more toward "a written agenda or plan of events," frequently regarding music entertainment, which later came into use for a schedule of radio shows, then later still, for television. The use of the word for computers dates to the end of World War Two and the use of "(computer) programs" dedicated to carry out specific tasks. The verb form came from the noun in the 1890s meaning, "to arrange in some order to be followed," and the mid 1900s saw the verb applied to computers for "to cause a computer or computers to take some course of action in an automatic way."    

Peruvian Fish Ceviche: Ceviche Peruano

"Peruvian Fish Ceviche"* is the national dish of Peru; but as such, there is no one recipe; thus, there are variations in the type of fish and chili pepper used, although there can be other variations. Also, the "side dish" of corn (maize) is most typically white corn, but often of the large kernel type, something that is not easily found outside Peru. Some people remove these large kernels from the cobs and then fry or toast them for this dish. The lime juice marinade "cooks" the raw fish in just a few minutes; so, you want to keep the fish pieces relatively small for the lime to penetrate the flesh of the fish. The chili pepper adds a bit of zest to the dish, without being mouth scorching.  

 

Ingredients (4 servings):

 

1 to 1 1/4 pounds halibut or sea bass, cut into bite size pieces 

1 red onion (baseball size), sliced into rings then cut into thirds or quarters

1 large clove garlic, minced

1 habanero chili pepper, seeded and finely chopped

juice from 8 to 10 limes (more if needed to completely cover the fish)

1 to 2 teaspoons salt

3 tablespoons fresh cilantro (known to some as coriander), chopped

2 ears of white (or yellow or bicolor) corn on the cob (boiled or grilled)

2 sweet potatoes, sliced (1/3 inch thick)

butter lettuce (Bibb lettuce is a type of butter lettuce)

Rinse the fish under cold running water, then cut it into bite size pieces and put the pieces to soak for ten minutes in a bowl of cold water. In another bowl of cold water with a pinch of salt, put the onion slices to soak. Drain both the fish and the onions well. Put the fish and onions into a bowl, then add the minced garlic, finely chopped chili pepper, salt and lime juice (you need to have enough lime juice to completely cover the fish pieces). Mix well (I do it by hand), cover the bowl and let the fish marinate for 20 minutes in the refrigerator. Cook the corn on the cob in some boiling water, likewise with the sweet potato slices (you can also grill the corn and sweet potato slices, if you like grilling). Cut the corn cobs into pieces of about 2 to 3 inches each. To serve: Place some butter lettuce on part of each plate and top the lettuce with some of the ceviche. Add a couple of slices of sweet potato and a piece a corn on the cob to each plate.

* "Ceviche" is also spelled "seviche" and "cebiche," and in the Spanish of Spain, the latter is considered proper. By the way, while there are theories as to the origins of the word, regardless of how you spell it, the word's history is very difficult, and at this time, I prefer to say its origin is "unknown."

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Halibut-This word for a particular type of flatfish is a compound of "holy" ^ and "butt" (flatfish), with the "holy" part added as the fish was often eaten on holy days. English has several words of the spelling "butt,"^^ although as it is used in the fish name, this version is related to the same form that gave English "buttock," as its general meaning is "the end piece (of something), often the thick end piece," and it is related to the word "beat," a word from the Germanic roots of English. This form "butt" goes back to Indo European "bheud/bhaud," which meant "to beat, to strike." This "supposedly" gave Old Germanic "butt," meaning "flatfish," although I'm more than a little skeptical about there ever having been such an Old Germanic word with the flatfish meaning; rather, I believe such a word was derived from the Old Germanic form that gave us "buttock;" that is, "but(t)a(n)," meaning, "that which is cut off," or, "the end piece, the short piece." It is interesting that "apparently" Anglo-Saxon (Old English) did not have a form of the word (this is one of the reasons I don't believe there ever was an Old Germanic form that referred to the flatfish), although it's always possible there was an unrecorded form of the word, and if true, it certainly wasn't prominent, which seems odd for these seafaring Germanic tribes from what is now the coastal areas of northern Germany, the northern Netherlands and southern Denmark, where fish, including various flatfish, were plentiful. After all, fairly large numbers of people from these tribes picked up and sailed to Briton. Old English seems to have used "flóc" to mean certain types of flatfish. "Butt," in reference to flatfish, appears in English around 1300, seemingly a borrowing from its close cousin Low German "butte." "Halibut" is from the late 1300s or early 1400s (it seems to have initially been "holibut," in English), when eating fish replaced the consumption of typical animal meat on certain Christian holy days. This seems to have been borrowed from the then Low German form "hellebütt."^^^ Relatives in the modern Germanic languages: German has "Heilbutt," initially as "heiligebutt," borrowed from the Low German form "hilligbutt," but then contracted to the modern form with influence from Low German "hellebütt" and Dutch "heilbot" (which is still the modern form). The North Germanic branch of the Germanic languages do not have forms of "halibut" nor of "butt," another reason why I don't believe there ever was an Old Germanic form (Note: Swedish once had "but/butta," but this was a borrowing from Low German). Unfortunately, the Brothers Grimm shed no light on these difficult words, as their entry is very sparse.        

^ For the history of "holy," this is the link to the article: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2011/08/german-question-part-one-hundred-twenty_47.html

 

^^ Several of the forms of "butt" are likely related, as most forms are from Germanic.  

^^^ It is important to remember, there is no standard Low German language, but rather there are dialects classified as being Low German. Hundreds of years ago, especially, most languages were developing standard forms, but dialects with different spellings and pronunciations were more the rule, rather than the exception; thus, lots of spelling variations. 

Venetian Seafood Soup/Stew

Some call the general recipe for this dish a "soup," while others use the word "stew." Fish and seafood are generally not cheap, so this is a rather costly dish to make, or if you're visiting Venice, it will likely cost you a "pretty euro" in a Venetian restaurant, but give yourself a treat, if possible, and make it at home. It is not all that common in the U.S. to leave shells on shrimp in soups or stews, but it IS common in many other cultures; so, use your own preference.

 

Ingredients (3 to 4 servings):

 

1 cup carrot, chopped

1/2 cup onion, chopped

1/3 cup fennel, chopped

5 whole cloves of garlic, crushed

4 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 pound cod or pollock, cut into bite-size pieces

1/2 pound tilapia or haddock, cut into bite-size pieces

1/2 pound squid rings (you can include cut up tentacles)

8 large shrimp, heads and shells removed (or you can leave the shells on)

3 1/2 cups clam juice or seafood stock

1/2 cup dry white wine

2 bay leaves

1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup parsley, chopped 

rustic bread, thickly sliced, lightly toasted

garlic for seasoning the bread

extra virgin olive oil for drizzling over the bread

 

In a pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat, then add the chopped carrot, onion and fennel. Saute for about 3 minutes, then add the garlic and saute a further 2 minutes. Add the bay leaf and red pepper flakes, then pour in the clam juice or seafood stock. Bring everything to a simmer and adjust the heat to maintain a steady simmer. Add the squid rings and cover the pot. After 20 minutes, add the white wine, cover the pot again and let it simmer for about 25 minutes, or until the squid pieces are tender. Add the black pepper and all of the fish pieces and the shrimp and cook until the fish pieces and shrimp are tender, add the salt and chopped parsley and stir. Lightly toast the bread and then rub each slice with some garlic. Place a bread slice into each bowl and drizzle each with olive oil. Put a couple ladles of the soup/stew into each bowl.    

You can even see some of the steam rising from the bowl. The small white pieces are fish, or in some cases, squid.

WORD HISTORY:

Spumoni-This word for a type of Italian ice cream is distantly related to "foam," a word from the Germanic roots of English, and to "pumice," a Latin-derived word borrowed by English via French (likely primarily Anglo-French). It goes back to the Indo European root "(s)poih-," seemingly meaning "froth, foam." This gave Latin "spuma," with the same meaning, which passed to Italian in the same form, which later produced "spumone" (ice cream type; creamy, foamy dessert) and its plural form "spumoni." English borrowed the word (plural form generally used as singular) in the mid 1920s with the meaning of "ice cream with layers of different fruit and nut ice creams." 

Sauteed Fillet of Fish & French Remoulade

You can use any flatfish fillets for this, like flounder, sole, plaice or halibut (just for the halibut). "Sole" is a flatfish that can generally mean something different to different people. Fish names at times came to mean a specific fish type in one place, but a different fish type in another place, although they usually are similar types of fish.

This is an easy dish to prepare, but unless you have a good knife to fillet the fish, it's probably a good idea to buy fish fillets or have your fishmonger fillet the fish for you. I've kept the salt to a minimum, because I used salted butter.

Serve with roasted small red potatoes and French remoulade sauce. For French remoulade sauce, here is the link to the recipe: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2020/08/french-remoulade.html

Ingredients:

3/4 to 1 pound fish fillet (I used flounder)
1 1/4 cup flour
1/2 to 3/4 cup panko breadcrumbs
1/2 cup melted butter
2 tablespoons butter + 1 tablespoon regular olive oil
1/2 teaspoon salt
parsley for garnish 

Mix the 1/2 teaspoon salt into the flour on a plate. Melt the butter in a shallow dish. Add the panko breadcrumbs to another plate. Add the 2 tablespoons butter and 1 tablespoon olive oil to a skillet over medium heat. Cut some light "X" markings on what had been the skin side of the fish, do not cut too deeply into the fillets (this helps to prevent the fish from curling up when cooking). Dredge the fish fillets in the flour, then put them into the melted butter. Place the fillets into the panko breadcrumbs, then put the breaded fillets into the hot butter/oil in the skillet. Fry until golden brown on both sides. Serve with French remoulade sauce.

Sauteed flounder with remoulade and roasted potatoes ...

 

WORD HISTORY:
Flounder-This is the noun for a type of flatfish, but English also has a verb form, which may well be related, but that is not a certainty. The noun form is related to "flat," a word from Germanic, but in this case, a borrowing by English from Old Norse; it is also related to "plate," a word borrowed by English  from French, which had it from Latin, which had gotten it from Greek, which had it from Indo European. "Flounder" goes back to Indo European "peleh," and its variant, "pleteh," which had the notion, "to spread;" thus also, "to spread out;" thus, "to make flat." This gave Old Germanic "flunthrjo," meaning, "a flatfish," but a word that seemingly developed more in the North Germanic branch of the Germanic languages, producing Old Norse "flyðra" (=flythra) also meaning "a flatfish." Old Northern French borrowed the word as "flondre," but exactly how the borrowing took place is unclear. Old Norse speakers of long ago have often been called "Vikings," and they frequently raided along the northwestern coast of what is now France, even venturing up the rivers leading inland. Perhaps this brought about the borrowing? Anyhow, the Norman dialect that developed in England (brought there initially by the conquering Normans) had "floundre," and English borrowed the word, as "flowndre" and "floundre," in the early 1300s for the name of a specific flatfish. Low German is a close relative of English and it had "vlunder" ('v' pronounced like 'f'), but it is likely a borrowing from Old Norse, and there was much contact between Old Norse and Low German, and the Baltic Sea and the North Sea, common to both language groups, had lots of the flatfish given this name. German borrowed the word from Low German (late 1400s?) in various forms, which became the modern form "Flunder." Danish has "flynder," Norwegian has "flyndre," Icelandic and Swedish have "flundra."      

Manchurian/Asian Chili Fish

Historically, this seems to be a dish of Manchurian Chinese origin, but which was taken by Chinese immigrants to India, where it is pretty well known in some regions. It is also known in other parts of southern Asia. You can certainly make this with more sauce, if you'd like. This is an easy dish to make. I used tilapia fish, but the second time I made it, I had tilapia, but I also had a small piece of salmon, so I used both, although recipes call for white fish. It was great!

Ingredients:

3/4 to 1 pound boneless fish, cut into bite size pieces
1 medium onion (red or white), chopped
1/2 green bell pepper, chopped
1/2 red bell pepper, chopped
1 tablespoon soy sauce (preferably dark soy sauce, but use what you have)
2 tablespoons Asian chili sauce*
1 tablespoon ketchup
1/2 to 1 teaspoon ground red pepper (like cayenne)
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 inch piece of peeled ginger, minced
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons flour
2 tablespoons cornstarch (also called cornflour in some regions of the world)
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/3 cup vegetable oil for frying
3 cloves garlic, chopped
2 green onions (also called scallions or spring onions), chopped with the green)
2 to 3 green chilies, chopped (serranos or jalapeños are good for this)
(optional) 1 tablespoon cornstarch mixed with 2 tablespoons water to thicken the sauce
chopped green part from green onions (scallions) for garnish

Marinate the fish pieces for 20 minutes in salt, minced garlic, lemon juice and ground red pepper. Then add cornstarch, flour and ground black pepper. Mix to coat fish pieces. Heat vegetable oil in skillet over medium heat. Add coated fish, piece by piece, to the hot oil. Fry fish until golden (approximately 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 minutes). Remove fish to a plate covered with a paper towel or two to drain excess oil, set the fish aside briefly. In a small bowl or cup mix together the soy sauce, chili sauce and ketchup, set aside. Pour off all but about 2 tablespoons oil from the skillet (you can keep the rest of the oil for some other dish). Over medium heat, add the chopped green onions and the chopped garlic, saute for about a minute or two, then add the chopped green chilies and saute another 30 seconds before adding the chopped green and red bell peppers (or other mild green or red peppers) and the chopped red or white onion, turn heat to high, cook for 2 minutes, then add the fish pieces and the soy sauce, chili sauce and ketchup mixture to the skillet. Mix together well. If the sauce is too thin, thicken it with 1 part cornstarch mixed with 2 parts water. Sprinkle some chopped green from some scallions on top of each serving.

* In the United States we have a product marketed as "chili sauce," which is more of a tomato-based sauce flavored with sweet peppers and/or mild chili powder, along with some spices. Generally speaking, this "American" chili sauce is not hot, although there could well be brands that have some mild heat. In other parts of the world the "chili" part of "chili sauce" means just that, that chilies from mild to hot are the main ingredient. These sauces vary from somewhat thick to more of a free flowing liquid, with the latter often being called "hot sauces" in the United States. Asian chili sauce is often something of a sweet and sour, or sweet and hot sauce of moderate thickness made of chilies, spices and sugar, but Asian chili sauce typically does not contain tomatoes.

WORD HISTORY:

Bait-This word is closely related to "bite," a word from the Germanic roots of English. "Bait" is something of a tough word, because it is so tied to "bite," and "bait's" Germanic ancestor simply meant "to cause to bite," which also gives it ties to "bit," meaning "a small portion of food," and also, "the part of a bridle for the horse's mouth." In other words, it's not easy to separate out these forms and meanings. "Bait" generally has two meanings, and while seemingly divergent, the meanings share "biting" in common, with the noun meaning, "food of some type put out to lure in an animal for trapping or hunting, or food put on a hook to lure a fish to bite it, thus snagging itself on the hook."^ The meaning, of course, broadened over time into "anything used to lure something or someone into a trap." The verb form follows that same meaning as, "to put food out as a lure for animals, or to put food onto a hook to lure fish," with another meaning being, "to let dogs loose to bite at and harass an animal for hunting purposes" (originally too it seems the word was used for "hunt, chase"). This meaning too expanded into "to harass something or someone to lure them into a fight or to get them to react," also further expanded to "to persecute."a "Bait" goes back to Indo European "bheid," which had the notion "to split." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "bitanan," meaning "to bite," and the derived "baitjanan," which meant, "to make or cause to bite;" thus also, "to feed, to graze." This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "bætan," meaning, "to hunt by using dogs;" thus also, "to harass," but also, "to use a bridle on a horse." The Old Germanic form also gave Old Norse, a Germanic language from the North German branch of Germanic, the verb "beita," also meaning, "to make or cause to bite;" thus also, "to feed or graze on pastureland" (the related Norse noun "beit" actually meant "pasture")," and further, "to use dogs for hunting," and also, "to use a bridle on horses." The Old Norse word is cited in references as the source of the modern English word (dating from the 1200s), but what about our own word? Did the Old Norse word simply reinforce the existing English word (its cousin)? German, a close cousin to English, has modern "beizen," the ancestor of which meant much the same as the English word, now has the main meaning "to etch, treat or cauterize with acid;" that is, "to use acid to 'bite' into a hard surface." It can also still mean "to hunt using a falcon." 

^ It "seems" the idea of "food," "that which is bitten and eaten," is what truly lies behind "bait," with the idea of using it as a lure being added to the meaning, and in more modern times being the more prominent idea associated with the word.

Norwegian Cod Gratin: Fiskegrateng

Fish is an important part of Norwegian cuisine. The various aspects of the fish industry, including exports, are a significant part of the Norwegian economy. This dish is usually made with dried and salted cod known as "klippfisk" in Norwegian, and literally meaning, "rock/cliff fish," "presumably" because the fish were laid out on rocks (or masses of rocks; that is, cliffs) by the sea to dry. The Norwegian word is a cousin of English "cliff" (see "Word History" below). It is often called "salt cod" in English, "bacalao" in Spanish and "bacalhau" in Portuguese.* While "salt cod" is traditionally used in making this dish, you can use fresh or frozen cod; of course, this may result in the Norwegians drying you out on a rock, but some times, you gotta take a chance. Many recipes for this cod dish are very similar to what I have here, but there are more elaborate recipes which include vegetables and/or cheese. 

Ingredients:

1 pound cod (usually salt cod, but you can use fresh or thaw some frozen cod)
3 tablespoons flour
4 to 5 tablespoons butter (divided use)
3/4 cup milk
2/3 teaspoon ground white pepper
2 eggs, beaten
1/2 cup breadcrumbs
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

If you use salt cod, you will need to soak the fish in a few changes of water for the better part of a day. This soaking will help to remove the salt from the cod. Heat the oven to 350 F. Once the salt cod has been soaked, or if you use fresh or thawed cod, cut the fish into bite sized pieces. Melt 2 tablespoons butter over low heat in a sauce pan, then stir in the flour to form a roux, allowing the roux to cook for a minute or two to remove the raw flour taste, but keep stirring to prevent the roux from browning (I turn the heat down to "very low"). Gradually stir in the milk until the mixture thickens. Add a couple of tablespoons of the thickened milk to the beaten eggs, stirring constantly (this will temper the eggs to prevent you from having scrambled eggs). Gradually add the tempered eggs to the milk, STIRRING CONSTANTLY. Season with white pepper and nutmeg. Butter a baking dish with 1 tablespoon butter, add the cod pieces to the dish, then add the thickened egg/milk and mix it in well with the cod pieces. Sprinkle the top with breadcrumbs and cut 1 or 2 tablespoons butter into little bits, then scatter them over the top. Bake for 45 to 60 minutes.

* Salt cod has a role in the cuisines of both Spain and Portugal, as well as in a number of their former colonies. 

With boiled potatoes and kale/tomato/red bell pepper salad ...

WORD HISTORY:
Cliff-The ultimate origin of this word is uncertain, but one major theory (and a good one, in my opinion) ties it to the Indo European ancestor of words "clay," "claw," "cleave" (the verb meaning "to cling or stick to"), all words from the Germanic roots of English, and to "glue," a Latin-derived word borrowed by English. The idea is that cliffs are masses of rocks "sticking together," or perhaps, "rock(s) clinging or sticking to the side of a hill or mountainside." Old Germanic had "klibijanan" meaning, "to stick, to cling." This produced the noun "kliban," meaning "a mass of joined rock, cliff." This gave Old English "clif" meaning, "a steep rocky slope." It's hard to find when the second "f" was added, but likely the process was gradual, in the sense that more and more writers spelled it "cliff," which finally made it the acceptable spelling. Relatives in the other Germanic languages^: German has "Klippe" ("rock mass protruding from the sea or above the seashore"), which developed in the 1300s from its old spelling of "kleb," from about 900 A.D. The "Klippe" spelling appears in writings in the Lower Rhine area of what is now the modern German state of North Rhine-Westphalia by the border with the Netherlands. Modern German also has "Kliff," but this is a borrowing from its English cousin, although with the more typical German "K," rather than "C" (properly, all German nouns are capitalized); Low German has "Klipp," and also "Kliff" (borrowed from English??), West Frisian has "klif," Dutch has "klif," Norwegian "klippe," Swedish "klippa," Icelandic "klif."

^ There have been a number of spellings in the Germanic languages over the centuries using "f" or "p," but exactly why that is, is unclear to me and I didn't really pursue the matter, as it goes far beyond my intentions for these word histories. Interestingly though, some languages, like Dutch, have had both spellings, but one spelling eventually prevailed, in Dutch "klif."  

Brazilian Seafood Chowder: Moqueca

This is a common soup in the coastal state of Bahia in Brazil. Like many popular dishes, it has numerous variations, including some that are somewhat more involved. Fish with a relatively firm flesh are used in Brazil, one of those being a large type of catfish from Brazil, but cod, swordfish, halibut or other catfish can also be used. Traditionally cooked in a "moquequeira," a type of pan, the name of this chowder, "Moqueca," is derived from that type of cooking pan. Also traditionally, oil made from palm fruit, known as "dendê oil" in Brazil, is used to make "Moqueca." This oil has a bright reddish or orangish color, but it has become highly controversial, both for reasons of health (high saturated fat level) and for the environment, the cutting down of palm trees, thus contributing to the deforestation of the rainforest, which in turn reduces the habitat of many animals. You can substitute extra virgin olive oil and then add some saffron threads, and/or soak a little annatto* in the oil, or add some ground turmeric (see recipe below). Generally, while the dish contains red chilies, it is not really hot, as the amount of ingredients dilutes the heat of the chilies, but leaves just a hint of spicy tingle for the dish. If you prefer more spicy heat to your food, add another chili pepper or two. 

Ingredients (for about 6 to 8 servings):

1 pound cod, swordfish or halibut, cut into about 1 or 2 inch pieces
1 pound medium shrimp(s)
1 medium onion, peeled and chopped
5 cloves garlic, minced
4 or 5 Roma tomatoes, chopped
1 heaping tablespoon sweet paprika
juice of 2 limes
1 large red bell pepper, cut into rings
1 medium green pepper/Anaheim pepper, chopped or cut into rings
2 hot red chili peppers, seeded and chopped
4 green onions, chopped
1/4 cup chopped cilantro
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
3 or 4 saffron threads, and/or a little annatto soaked in the oil, or 1/4 teaspoon ground turmeric (I used both saffron threads and annatto) 
1 can (13.5 to 15 ounces) coconut milk
1 teaspoon salt
cilantro for garnish

Put the fish pieces and the shrimps in a dish, then add the garlic, lime juice and salt; mix well, cover the dish and refrigerate for 30 minutes. Heat the olive oil, saffron (or annatto or turmeric) in a pot or large pan over medium heat, then add the onion, red bell pepper, green pepper, tomatoes and chili pepper. Let cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion softens somewhat. Add the paprika, green onions, chopped cilantro; stir to mix well. Then add the fish and shrimp mixture (lime juice, garlic and salt). Cook briefly until the fish and shrimp BEGIN to change color. Add the coconut milk, stir to mix, and let the dish come to a simmer; then adjust the heat to simply maintain a gentle simmer. Let simmer until the fish and shrimp are simply cooked through, then remove from the heat. Overcooked shrimp can often become tough. Often served with rice or good bread to sop up the excellent broth. 

* Annatto is a seasoning and food coloring product from the seeds of the achiote tree. It is commonly used in dishes from the Caribbean and Central and South America. 

WORD HISTORY:
Chowder-This word for a thick stew, often with fish or other seafood, is related to "cauldron," a Latin-derived word borrowed by English by way of Latin-based French. It goes back to Indo European "kelhe," which had the notion "warm, hot." This gave its Latin offspring "calidus," with the same meaning, and this produced "calidarium," meaning "warm or hot bath," which later produced "caldaria," meaning, "a pot for cooking." This passed into Old French as "chaudière," with the same meaning, and English borrowed the word in the mid 1700s as "chowder," but meaning "the fish stew cooked in a 'chaudière'."  

Indian Fish & Chili Curry: Meen Mulakittathu

This dish is from the state of Kerala in southwestern India. Kerala is a state with a substantial coastline, and thus, plenty of fresh fish, including what is called "kingfish" (one word) in India, which is a type of mackerel typically used in Kerala for this dish. This fish is also known as "king mackerel" in some other parts of the world, including in parts of the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico, depending upon the time of year, as these fish prefer fairly warm water temperatures. If you can't find kingfish/king mackerel, you can easily substitute tilapia (which is what I used), cod or halibut. India is a land of hundreds of languages and dialects, and in Kerala the main language is Malayalam, from the Dravidian language family. Just as a point of comparison, English is a Germanic language from the Indo European language family.

This is a spicy dish (with some mild tartness), but much of the "heat" will depend upon the chili powder/ground cayenne pepper you use, as the heat level can vary tremendously, just as with hot chili peppers themselves, when used fresh or dried. I often grind my own dried hot chilies, and usually it is quite potent, but when I used it in this dish, the cooking did mellow the heat level to some extent, and it was not as hot as I had anticipated. As I have mentioned in other Indian food articles, the people of the Indian subcontinent have lots of spices and seasonings, including hot chilies, and they are not sparing in their use, as "hot" spicy food is common there, but not every dish produces a blowtorch feeling in your mouth, and some are quite mild. Another thing I noticed about this dish, and I actually had read this somewhere before I ever made this, the dish is noticeably better, if you cook it, then refrigerate it for a number of hours, preferably overnight. I had fixed the recipe and served it, but placed the remainder in the refrigerator simply to keep it from going bad. The next day when I took it out for lunch, WOW! The taste was so incredible, and again, it was NOT unbearably hot for me, and although I like hot spicy food, a few adjustments as I've noted in the recipe, and even many folks who do not like "heat" will find this dish to be great. You can find tamarind paste in many supermarkets or most certainly in Indian/Pakistani shops, or online. It has a somewhat tart taste, and you could skip using it, or perhaps use a little lime juice instead. Tamarind paste is pretty concentrated, so you don't want to use too much, as it can overwhelm other flavors. As a point of information, tamarind is one of the components of Worcestershire sauce.    

Ingredients (about 6 servings):

1 1/2 pounds white fish fillets (king mackerel, halibut, tilapia or cod)
3 tablespoons vegetable oil (you can add a fourth tablespoon later, if needed)
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
1 cup chopped onion
1 inch piece of ginger, finely chopped or grated
5 garlic cloves, chopped
about 12 curry leaves *
1 1/2 cups water (a little more, if needed)
2 whole dried red chilies
2/3 teaspoon ground turmeric
3 tablespoons red chili powder (or 2 tablespoons cayenne pepper + 1 tablespoon mild red chili powder, like ancho, or for milder, 1 tablespoon cayenne and 2 tablespoons ancho chili powder**)
2 teaspoons tamarind paste
1 teaspoon ground fenugreek
1 teaspoon salt

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the mustard seeds and let them pop, then add the onion, ginger, garlic and curry leaves. Let cook for about 3 to 4 minutes, then add 1/3 cup of the water, the dried red chilies, the turmeric, the red chili powder (or cayenne and chili powder), the ground fenugreek and the tamarind paste. Cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the fish pieces and the remainder of the water. Let the mixture come to a boil, then reduce the heat to produce a gentle simmer and add the salt. Cook 12 to 15 minutes. The liquid will cook down some, but this is not meant to be a thickened sauce. Serve with rice and/or chapati (roti) bread. ***

* Curry leaves have a combination of a citrusy and basil like taste. You can find frozen curry leaves in Indian/Pakistani grocery stores, or you can substitute basil leaves along with some grated lime peel.

** When people from the Indian subcontinent talk about "chili powder," they mean "hot" chili powder. In the U.S., and presumably Canada, "chili powder" has far less, if any, notion of "heat," as it is mild. When "heat" is desired for foods, Americans (and presumably Canadians) most commonly use cayenne pepper, chili pepper flakes, hot sauce, or fresh hot chilies. I'm not sure what the term "chili powder" (more likely spelled "chilli powder") means in Britain; that is, "hot" or "mild," since influences from the former British colonies of the Indian subcontinent may have prevailed.   

*** For chapati/roti bread, here is the link, but actually in the Kerala region, roti is usually made with rice flour, but  : https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2018/10/easy-flatbread-of-indian-subcontinent.html

WORD HISTORY:
Key-English has more than one word of this spelling, but this is the noun for "small island," likely with its best known form being in the plural and used for the U.S. archipelago, "the Florida Keys." It goes back to Taino, a language from the Caribbean islands, and a part of the Arawakan language family of Central and South America.^ Taino had "cayo" (meaning, "small low level island") and this was borrowed by Spanish as "cayo," with the additional meaning of "reef." English borrowed the word circa 1700, but the word's spelling seems to have been influenced by the then fairly common spellings of "quay," which were "key(e)" and "caye."   

^ Arawakan languages have declined over the centuries, largely at the expense of Spanish and other European languages that came to the New World.

Honey-Paprika Salmon

This is easy to make and it is delicious. If you give it a try, I think you'll find yourself making it again.... and again. Good served with rice or a salad, or both. 

Ingredients (4 to 6 servings):

1 1/2 to 2 pounds salmon fillets, rinsed and cut into pieces (leave the salmon pieces wet)
2 tablespoons butter
6 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons teriyaki sauce
1 1/2 tablespoons Spanish paprika (it's smoked)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 to 1 teaspoon ground white pepper (you can use black pepper)
1/2 to 1 teaspoon salt
cornstarch mixed with water to thicken the sauce

In a large skillet or sauce pan, melt the butter over medium heat, add the honey, the teriyaki sauce and the lemon juice, stir to mix. Do not brown the butter, so remove the pan from the heat and reduce the heat if necessary. Add the salmon pieces and mix them into the sauce to coat all of the pieces (as I've noted for other recipes, the wide surface of a skillet makes it easier to maneuver). Sprinkle on the salt, pepper and Spanish paprika, then mix in the seasonings. Cook until the salmon is cooked through. If you'd like to thicken the sauce (the juice from the salmon will also add to the liquid component), mix together a teaspoon or two of cornstarch in a couple of tablespoons of water, then carefully mix the cornstarch into the sauce a little at a time, or you can remove the salmon pieces and then thicken the sauce. Garnish with a slice or wedge of lemon for those who like a squeeze or two of lemon juice on their fish.

Honey-Paprika Salmon with a tomato and green onion salad ...

WORD HISTORY:
Canny/Uncanny-This adjective, closely related to "cunning," is derived from the verb "can" (meaning: "to be able to do, to have the knowledge to do something"). The meaning of "canny" tends toward, "shrewdly, but often warily, knowing how to do something, often, but not necessarily, in financial matters." In northern England and southern Scotland it tends to mean, "nice or pleasant." The derived form "uncanny," which means, "weird, mysterious," came from the notion of "beyond knowledge;" thus, "mysterious," and it was originally used in reference to the supernatural and magic. For the history of its close relative "cunning," here is the link: http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2015/05/is-it-rumania-or-romania-part-6final.html

Icelandic Fish Stew: Plokkfiskur

Iceland is an island nation in the North Atlantic where the language is Icelandic, a Germanic language from the North Germanic branch, which still has many similarities to its ancestor, Old Norse. English too is a Germanic language, and it came from what developed as the West Germanic branch, although it was later influenced by its relative, Old Norse.

Iceland "Plokkfiskur" (pronounced pretty much like it's spelled), literally means "plucked fish," and indeed, the "plokk" part of the name is related to English "pluck" (see Word History, below), and the "fiskur" part is related to "fish." It is a simple stew, more on the order of a hash or paste, traditionally served with well buttered dark rye bread (Icelandic: (rúgbrauð").* Traditionally, cod or haddock is used, but you can use the less pricey pollock. 

Ingredients:

1 1/4 pound cod fillets (or haddock, or pollock), rinsed and cut into pieces
1 1/4 pound potatoes, peeled and cut into pieces 
2/3 cup diced onion
3 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons flour
1/4 cup water from the cooked fish
1 cup milk 
2/3 teaspoon salt  (or to your taste)
2/3 teaspoon white pepper

Cook the potatoes in some water until they are softened. Also, cook the fish in some salted water until cooked through (it doesn't really take very long). While these things are ongoing, melt the butter in a skillet over "low heat," and saute the onion, taking care not to brown the onion, but to soften it well. Stir in the flour, a little at a time, until it is all mixed with the butter and onion. Let this cook briefly, on low heat, to take out the raw flour taste. Add about a quarter cup of the milk (doesn't have to be an exact measurement), stirring constantly to mix it into the flour mixture. Gradually add more of the milk, stirring constantly, until the milk is all added. Drain the fish and the potatoes well, saving about a quarter cup of the hot fish liquid. As you did with the milk, gradually add the hot fish broth, stirring constantly to incorporate it into the stew base. Now add the fish and, using a fork, break it up into the desired sized pieces. Add the potatoes and do the same, leaving the potato pieces as large or small as you like. The mixture should be thick, but if you'd like it thinner, add a little more milk. Stir in the salt and white pepper and get ready to eat. I had some chives, so I chopped them and used them as a garnish for the stew, but you could certainly use some parsley, or just leave it plain. Traditionally this dish is served with well buttered Icelandic dark rye bread. Let's face it, unless we live in Iceland, we don't just walk into a bakery or store and say, "Give me some dark Icelandic rye bread;" so, pumpernickel bread is a decent substitute, with the "softer" style pumpernickel, as opposed to the "crumbly" style, being closer to the Icelandic bread texture. The softer style is the most common style of pumpernickel in the U.S., and it is not uncommon to see it used with part of the inside removed so it can hold spinach dip.

* Like the name for the stew, the bread, "rúgbrauð," is also related to English: "rúg"=rye, and rye also once had a "g" in it, but the sound died out. And Icelandic "brauð" is simply their form for English "bread." The "ð" symbol is called an "eth," and represents "th." For the history of the word "rye," here is the link to the article: http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2012/09/its-about-coalitions-not-purity-part_13.html 

WORD HISTORY:
Pluck-The ancient history of this word is in question, but after a good deal of research, I think it was a borrowing by Germanic dialects from Latin, although it was so long ago, it is quite understandable that some believe it to be an original Germanic word. It is distantly related to "plush" and to "pile" (the word meaning "hairs or fibers"), both words of Latin derivation borrowed by English from French. It goes back to Indo European "piloh," which had the notion, "covering;" thus also, "hair" or "feathers/down." This gave Latin "pilus," which meant "hair," which produced Latin "pilare," which meant, "to pull out hair." This spawned "piluccare," meaning, "to pull feathers or hair." This was borrowed into West Germanic from Latin in ancient times, "seemingly" from the Roman grape cultivation they established around the region of the Moselle and Rhine Rivers, and the "plucking (picking) of grapes." This gave West Germanic "plukkonan," which gave Anglo-Saxon (Old English)^  "pluccian," meaning, "to pluck, to pick, to tear off, tear away from." This later became "plukken," then "plucken," before the modern form. Forms in the other Germanic languages: German has "pflücken," Low German Saxon "plücken," Frisian "plukje/plokje (?), Dutch "plukken." Old Norse, the North Germanic ancestor of the modern North Germanic languages, seems to have borrowed a form somewhat later, as "plokka," from Old English or Old Saxon (the Saxon that remained in what is now northern Germany after some Saxons emigrated to Briton). This gave Danish and Norwegian "plukke," Icelandic "plokka," Swedish "plocka."   

^ It seems the Germanic borrowing from Latin took place before the Germanic tribal elements, often collectively called, "Anglo-Saxons," left the North Sea region of the European mainland for Briton, where they founded England. "Briton" is often used, instead of "Britain," when the reference is to the Celtic-Roman lands that existed before the invasion by elements of several Germanic tribes, led by the Anglo-Saxons.   

German Fish Goulash (Helgoländer Fischgulasch)

Heligoland is a two island German archipelago in the North Sea, about 30 miles from the German mainland. In German, it is "Helgoland" and it is part of the German state of Schleswig-Holstein. During most of the 1800s, Heligoland was a British possession, having been seized by Britain from Denmark during the Napoleonic Wars. Denmark was Napoleon's ally. In 1890 the British and the Germans reached an agreement giving control of the archipelago to Germany in exchange for some German territories in Africa. The fact that Britain's Queen Victoria was the grandmother of the then German Kaiser, Wilhelm II, likely helped move the deal along.

The main island is only about a half square mile in size, while the second island, "Düne," lying just a very short distance to the east, is only about a quarter square mile in size. Heligoland is essentially motor vehicle and bicycle free, by law, except for authorized vehicles, like for emergencies. Heligoland is known for its beaches and sunbathing areas, its geological rock formations and red sandstone cliffs, its use as a stopping point by seals and a number of birds, making it a great place for bird watching (a bird observatory is there). Heligoland's airport is located on Düne. The actual population of Heligoland is less than 1400, many of whom are Frisians, and they speak a form of North Frisian, alongside standard German, and likely, Low German. From what I understand, a couple hundred thousand tourists visit Heligoland each year. By the way, Heligoland is exempted from collecting European Union taxes and duties on purchases, which means... CHEAP BOOZE! Ah, I mean, reasonably priced alcoholic beverages.

Food wise, Heligoland is famous for its lobsters, but naturally other seafood is common there too (hey, it's in the North Sea). This recipe from Heligoland is subtle, unlike many of the dishes I tend to like, which have strong flavors, but it cannot be highly seasoned, lest the mild taste of the seafood be overwhelmed, although there are other German recipes for fish goulash with much stronger flavors. In this recipe, however, the taste of the seafood shines through so much, you may just have a wish for some "German Egg Grog" to top off your lunch or dinner. (Here is the link to the recipe for grog: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2018/06/german-egg-grog-eiergrog.html  

Ingredients:

1 pound cod (or substitute the cheaper pollock fillets)
1/2 pound small shrimp, shelled
1/2 pound crab meat
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon white pepper
juice of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons butter
5 green onions, including some green, chopped
2 potatoes, diced
2/3 cup dry white wine
3/4 cup fish broth or clam broth
6 white peppercorns
3 juniper berries, crushed
1 cucumber, halved lengthwise, seeds scooped out, then sliced
2 to 3 tablespoons dill
1/2 cup sour cream (or creme fraiche)

Cut the fish into chunks (like bite-sized or a little larger), put in a bowl, then season with salt, ground white pepper, salt and lemon juice; set aside. In a pan over low heat, melt the butter and immediately add the chopped green onion. Cook for about 2 minutes, stirring enough to make sure that neither the onion nor the butter brown. Add the potatoes, the white wine, the fish broth, the white peppercorns and the juniper berries. Cook for 3 minutes, then add the cucumber. Cook until both the potatoes and cucumber are tender, but not falling apart. Add the fish, the shrimp and the crab (along with any of the lemon juice collected in the bowl), stir well. Cook until the fish and the shrimp are just cooked through, then stir in the dill and the sour cream. Remove from the heat after about a minute or so.
 
Click the photo to enlarge it

WORD HISTORY: 
Cod/Cuttle-The history of these "seemingly" related words is shaky, at best, but there does seem to be some logic to what I've compiled here. They seem to go back to Indo European "gewt," which meant, "to bend, to bow;" thus also, "sack, bag." This gave Old Germanic "kuddon," meaning, "bag, sack." This gave Old English "codd," meaning, "bag, sack;" thus also, "husk for a pod." This then became "codde," before the modern version. The name "seems" to have been applied to a number of similar fish in the North Sea area in the late 1200s, with the theory being that Englishmen back then thought the fish looked like a pod husk. "Cuttle" has the same origins, but it was "cudele" in Old English and it was the name for the "cuttlefish." It then became "cutil," before the modern form. Forms in the other Germanic languages include: German "Kudele," for "cuttlefish," but the German word is now confined to some dialects (the standard German word for "cuttlefish" is "Tintenfisch; literally, "ink fish"); I found references to Dutch "kodde" being a term for "scrotum," which certainly fits in with the "sack, bag" meaning in Germanic, but "apparently" this usage is dialectal or archaic; likewise with Danish "kodde," which seems to be an archaic term for "scrotum" or "testicle;" Swedish "kudde," meaning, "pillow" (a bag stuffed with feathers, straw or rags); likewise with Icelandic "koddi," which also means "pillow."   

The Way We Were, By Necessity

There have been many changes in how we buy and keep our food over the decades of my life, although there has been a gradual return by some consumers to the use of fewer preservatives in certain foods. I thought I'd jot down a few things to let younger folks read how things were, and to perhaps give their parents and grandparents a chance to say, "Yep, that's what we did back then." It's nice to look back, at times, to things from the past, as long as we remember to return to the present and look to the future.

Back when I was a kid, bread went stale within a day or two, and it would get moldy, even faster in warm weather. Not much air conditioning back then, as not only were the air conditioning units themselves expensive, but the amount of electricity the units used could have caused a horse to drop dead, if a horse could have read the electric bill. There were supermarkets back then, but not as many as there were a little later, and they were generally not as large as those of more modern times. There were many little "mom and pop" grocery stores in most places, and in cities, there were apt to be a couple of these stores, if not more, within a short walking distance across city neighborhoods. Most had deli cases with various lunch meats (also called "cold cuts") and cheeses, which they would slice to order for you, and some even would grind meat for you, or cut up pork for pork chops. Separate butcher shops were common back then too, and you could get fresh cut meats of just about any type, as well as sausages and smoked meats. The southern part of my neighborhood had a large Polish and (western) Ukrainian population, and one family store there made their own kielbasa, which drew in people from all over. Further, depending upon your state or local area, many bars sold basic food products like bread and milk, and also that great staple food of childhood, candy! With the money value so different back then compared to now, there was a section in each candy display case with "penny candy," as the term was. Little grocery stores and bars put your candy into little brown paper bags, and if your were lucky enough to have a dime, you could get one of these small bags pretty much filled up. My paternal grandfather once gave me a DOLLAR! I was the richest kid on the block; well, for a little while, at least. Most candy bars were like about 3 cents to 5 cents. Whether you called it soda or pop, some was a nickel a bottle, but others were 6 or 7 cents. The famous Coca-Cola bottles were 6 1/2 ounces, if I remember right, but some other brands were maybe 7 or 8 ounces. Beverage companies then increased the size of the bottles to 12 ounces, and even to 16 ounces, if my memory is right, but of course, the price was a bit more. There was a penny deposit on the bottles, as they were returnable glass bottles, although again, some companies later began using non-returnable bottles. We kids would go through the neighborhood looking for discarded bottles to take in so we could get candy from the pennies we got back for returning those bottles. Maybe some of you remember, but I don't recall soda/pop in cans (12 ounces) until somewhat later, especially so in the 1970s, when their use became common.

Besides bread being sold in stores, bakery trucks came through the neighborhoods selling various kinds of bread, pies, cakes and other baked goods (ah, I guess that's why they called them bakery trucks). Customers could order special baked goods when they were produced and the driver might tell people, "Thursday, they're making apricot sweet rolls. Do you want to place an order?" They naturally could only fit so many items on a truck, so he took orders for these specialty items. Often the deliveryman would ring a bell to let people know he was in their neighborhood.

Milk was not always homogenized back then, so it separated and you had to shake the bottle before using it. Milk also spoiled within a few days, so just like with bread, trucks traveled through neighborhoods and rural areas to deliver milk and dairy products. Other trucks had produce, and the driver would yell out the various fruits and vegetables he had on sale on that day. If I remember right, there was a truck with fish, and because of religious beliefs, many people ate fish on Fridays in those times, a practice which even carried over to other folks who just got used to eating fish on Fridays, even though they didn't hold those religious beliefs. The practice was so prevalent, neighborhood bars did a banner business on Fridays by having a fish fry. And, just as you may have seen in movies about the "Old West," bars still had spittoons all around the barrooms, as tobacco chewing was still a common practice. Bars also had "back rooms" with tables where ladies and families could sit, as it wasn't considered "proper" by many people for women or children to sit in the main barroom in those days. Bars even had side or rear entrances so that ladies wouldn't have to be seen entering through the front door, which usually was on a main street, as this would likely lead to neighborhood gossip among some people, and perhaps even a condemnation to Hell by some self righteous religious zealots.      

Ice cream and popsicle trucks were around back then, a business which continues to this day. Some trucks only sold frozen products like popsicles, ice cream sandwiches or fudge bars, but others sold ice cream cones, sundaes, milkshakes and banana splits, with the ice cream dispensed right in front of the customers from machines inside the trucks. Of course, you could also go to a pharmacy, often simply referred to in the U.S. as, "drug stores," to get some ice cream, as they had "soda fountains" in those days. Oh, and they too had candy display cases with penny candy and candy bars. We had a food truck, actually more of a van or RV from more recent times, run by "Harold," a man in our neighborhood. I can't remember everything, but I believe he sold many early morning items like: doughnuts, pastries, coffee, tea and hot chocolate, and he may well have sold sandwiches and lunch items too, I just can't remember. Of course, this part of the food business has really expanded in more recent times, as trucks selling all sorts of fresh, refrigerated or frozen products are big business nowadays, with many specialty foods now being sold, including pizza, a food item that was growing in popularity when I was a kid, but at that time, pizza shops hadn't sprung up on many street corners, as yet, but they were around, just not in anywhere near the numbers we have today; and off hand, I don't recall any national pizza chains at that time; at least, not in my area. Certainly pizza's popularity stemmed from soldiers who had served in World War Two in Italy, which gave Italian-Americans a good way to go into business, especially in cities with Italian neighborhoods, particularly in the eastern half of the U.S. But it didn't take long for the popular, delicious and easily eaten food to spread all over the country.

As the years passed, more and more supermarkets were opened all over, putting a bit of a crimp in some family owned grocery stores and butcher shops. Preservatives were added to many foods, air conditioning and refrigeration became more widely used, and the need for things such as milk and bread delivery declined to the point where most were just unnecessary, although some hung on for awhile, and some might still be in existence in places? Improved roads and highways made rural deliveries largely unnecessary too, and I'm not sure the last time I heard, "Peaches, onions, cabbage on sale today," yelled out by a driver on a produce truck. Changes happen, often they creep up on us, and we eventually accept them, however grudgingly, but it sure can be nice to think back on the way we were, but then we need to move on. 

WORD HISTORY:
Spit-English has more than one word of this spelling, but this form is closely related to "spew" and goes back to Indo European "spyu," which meant "to spit, to discharge fluid from the mouth," but its exact history is a bit cloudy. The Indo European form gave its Old Germanic offspring "spitjanan," ^ seemingly a parallel development with the ancestor of "spew," as it had the same meaning, but it was not as commonly used. This either gave Old English, or the West Germanic dialects that later came to form Old English (Anglo-Saxon), but while still on the Continent, both "spæten"and "spittan," dialectal differences, although as noted under the original Old Germanic form, these forms were also not as common in usage as the ancestor of "spew." The Old English forms then melded to become "speten/spitten," before the modern form. The noun came from the verb circa 1300. Danish and Norwegian have "spytte" (to spit, Danish noun "spyt" and Norwegian noun "spytt"), Swedish has "spotta" (perhaps a dialectal "spetta?" and the noun "spott"), Icelandic has "spýta" (both verb and noun form).

^ It's possible that this was rather a form developed in the North Germanic branch of Old Germanic, or perhaps a survivor from Old Germanic in the North Germanic branch. It is unclear, but forms are only found in modern North Germanic, with the exception of English, which is West Germanic. The West Germanic dialects of what are today northern Germany and the Netherlands, as well as southwestern Denmark, had much contact with North Germanic speakers, which remained true, even after many of these West Germanic speakers migrated to Briton and founded England. As a guess, I would lean to a borrowing from North Germanic after the Anglo-Saxons were in Briton, which might account for the more sporadic use of the word compared to the ancestor of "spew," which was the common word among the West Germanic dialects/languages for "to spit." If "spit" had been borrowed while Ango-Saxon was still on the Continent, it begs the question, "Where are forms in Low German and/or Frisian," as they likely would have borrowed it too, but I found no forms of such, not even from centuries ago. Low German and Frisian are both the closest relatives of English, and they were especially close (linguistically and geographically) when the Anglo-Saxons were still on the Continent.