f i s h y

Sally Solomon sits up in bed beside her boyfriend Don as he sleeps, watching late-night TV. Carefully, she peels back the metal lid on a tin of sardines, recoiling slightly as their pungent aroma wafts up to her nose; ooo, stinky, she says as she digs in.

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Philip Fry sacrificed a fortune in order to procure the last can of anchovies on Earth.

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My friend once told me how her mother pronounces their name 'anne-chois'; an elegant name for an elegant creature.

I first ate anchovies on a pizza (with bacon and extra cheese) which I shared with a boy who, at the time, I'd been quite enamored with (ultimately, he hadn't been on the same page as me). The fish were beautiful and salty and complex and almost fancy. Whenever I eat them now, I feel like I'm part of a secret members-only club (the 'people who like things which everyone else despises' club). The only drawback of indulging in anchovies(besides the sodium!) is the presence of their translucent bones, which tickle your mouth and throat like feathers as you swallow them. 

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The tin of sardines pictured above was an impulse purchase; colourful little packages of fish were something I'd have previously filed away under "things never to buy" (much like pickled eggs or sauerkraut). I learned two things that day: one, that sardines and anchovies are not interchangeable; and two, that I should always read the ingredient labels of items before taking them home so as to not ingest MSG unnecessarily (sorry fish).