Finnan Haddie – a Moment in History

A beautiful poem by Ellen Winter came to me via amazingly creative blogger Judy of the awesome lifelessons.  Go visit her blog, Beautiful People, and be impressed, amused, and delighted with her whimsical poetry and art!

Meet the adorable couple, Ellen and her boyfriend Fred:

Enjoy Ellen’s poem that actually contains the recipe for a traditional Scottish Finnan Haddie.

Finnan Haddie

My mother used to make it.

Smoked fish and potatoes

With hard-boiled eggs in cream sauce.

Croutons on top.

 

Finnan Haddie

Slim creatures of the ocean

The offspring of birds,

Tubers from under the soil, the essence of cow,

Wheat from the fields. Smoke from fire.

Bird, beast earth air water fire

All creamed together and poured over rice.

 

Finnan Haddie

 

Fishermen cast their nets in a sea of stars                            

And come up with a shimmering haddie,   

 Fins flashing with phosphorescence.                                          

The fair maid carries all of her eggs in one basket

 And cries over spilt milk.

 Icelandic fishermen since the time of barrows and runes have built fires on the beach and smoked their fish on wooden racks.

Enough to feed the village all winter.

Haida, Nootka and Kwakiutl packed dried,

smoked fish into carved cedar boxes

or hung them from strings over rafters.

 

But where were the potatoes?

 

Inca farmers were grubbing them from

Terraced fields with ancient pulaskis

Until the conquistadors seized them by

The sackful and sailed off to Spain

Their holds groaning with tubers and gold.

 

And where were the eggs and the milk

to make finnan haddie then?

 

Wild muskoxen with blood in their eyes

Had to be corralled from the windswept moors

Of Scotland or Slovakia or Mesopotamia,

Tamed and fed,

Until the milkmaid could approach

them with her bucket

 

The eggs were a bit easier.

The first hens were stolen from the jungle

By nimble young Javan princes in jeweled turbans,

Kept in bamboo cages and fed on the fruit of the

Kedodong tree until they dropped all their eggs in one intricately woven basket

And settled down to domestic servitude,

Forever.

 

 

And then at one tremendously momentous but long forgotten

Moment in History

Somewhere on the planet, in somebody’s kitchen,

The fish, the eggs, the potatoes, the milk

All came together.

Slowly, they were warmed on top of the stove

Until the sauce

Was creamy and thick and the aroma

Of smoky fish and eggs and potatoes filled the house

And the whole family ran in hungry from

The fields and asked,

“What’s that absolutely delicious smell?”

And their mother answered… . . . . . . . . .

I have not tried it myself yet but I will, by substituting non-dairy plant-based milk and eliminating eggs. In fact, even though the Google image does have eggs, most recipes I’ve been able to research include neither eggs, nor potatoes (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finnan_haddie).

Enjoy a little song and please remember, my book is only one click away at amazon.com/author/koolkosherkitchen.

https://youtu.be/eCAUMJzBDnM

Thank you so much, Ellen, for a great poetic contribution to my humble blog!