It was a beautiful day out and I had a strong craving for herring but doubted (correctly) that I could find anything as scrumptious as you can get in Holland. Still, with dreadful-to-ghastly offerings in the departmental and neighbouring cafés, I decided to brave the throngs of tourists and made my way to Hayman’s Fishmongers in the Covered Market.
“Do you have any herring?”
The poor guy looked anguished as he answered slowly, “noooo.” He sounded Dutch, so I was probably breaking his heart.
“Oh. Not even in a jar?”
Brightening, he pointed to a cooler inside. “Come around, there are some there.”
I really just wanted a little vinegar, salt and water but these would have to do. The ones I took were brined in sherry with a little blackcurrant for the acetic acid as a preservative, but at least there were some onions in there (although I would have committed all sorts of sins for some fresh, chopped onion).
I got some soft rolls from the baker down the hall and retired to dine in front of Hertford College whilst watching the tourists mill about. The fish were a little sweet, but my feast of loaves and fishes really hit the spot.