You've seen the videos, the reactions, the sheer disbelief. The question lingers: what does surströmming, that famously pungent Swedish fermented herring, actually taste like? It's a culinary enigma wrapped in an olfactory assault, and frankly, it's a journey few are prepared for.
Let's be clear, the smell is the first hurdle. It's not just a hint of fishiness; it's a powerful, lingering aroma that seems to permeate everything – your clothes, your hair, the very air you breathe. The initial wave from an opened can is often described as intensely rotten, arresting, and yes, deeply unsettling. It's the kind of smell that makes you question humanity's culinary choices, wondering how something so potent could ever be considered food.
But here's where the story gets interesting. Beneath that formidable olfactory barrier lies a taste that, for those who brave it, can be surprisingly complex. Surströmming is made from Baltic sea herring, caught in spring and then fermented in salted water for about two months, before being sealed in airtight tins to continue fermenting for up to a year. This process, known as 'souring' (surs-), transforms the fish.
When you finally get past the smell and take a bite, the taste is often described as intensely salty, with a strong, pungent, and distinctly fishy flavor. It's not a clean, fresh fish taste; it's a deep, fermented funk. Some liken it to a very strong cheese, others to an extremely potent anchovy. There's a certain umami richness, a depth that comes from the fermentation. It's sharp, it's bold, and it's definitely not for the faint of heart.
Traditionally, surströmming isn't eaten straight from the can. It's usually served on thin bread (tunnbröd), often with toppings like finely chopped potatoes, onions, and sour cream. These accompaniments are crucial; they help to balance the intense flavor of the fish, providing a creamy, sweet, and sharp counterpoint. The bread acts as a vehicle, and the toppings create a more palatable, even enjoyable, experience for those who can appreciate its unique profile.
So, while the smell is undeniably the star of the show (or perhaps the villain), the taste of surströmming is a different beast altogether. It's a testament to a long history of food preservation, a tradition born out of necessity and evolving into a unique cultural delicacy. It's a taste that challenges, that provokes, and for a select few, that delights. It's an experience, more than just a meal, and one that will certainly leave a lasting impression, for better or for worse.
