If you are squeamish about certain foodstuffs, consider yourself forewarned. The certain foodstuff today is SARDINES. In mustard sauce. Of course, unless I type up a bunch of filler, you are going to be exposed to the picture when you click on this post. And you'll see it in the thumbnail anyway. So maybe there's not much forewarning to be done.
How about this? I'll start out slow. With a non-triggery photo, of the can itself. The label. Then we can get to the hard stuff.
These are my sardines of choice. They come from Save A Lot. I've only tried one other version. I can't remember if they came from The Devil's Playground or Country Mart. They were probably The Devil's sardines, because I can't off the top of my head say which aisle is their home in Country Mart. Anyhoo...I find these PortSide sardines in mustard sauce to be delectable. Okay. Maybe not quite delectable. Tasty. Just right. Palatable. Not too fishy. Just mustardy enough.
This fact horrifies The Pony. And also Farmer H, who used to work with a guy in the city, at his workplace when we met, before Genius was born, who ate sardines and crackers for lunch every day. Then Farmer H would have to get close to him, like carrying furniture together close, and breathe in that guy's sardine breath. So I try to be considerate of Farmer H, and put my empty can inside a ziplock bag for disposal. Anyhoo... neither Farmer H nor The Pony likes to hear that I eat the whole sardine.
Sweet Gummi Mary! What do they think I'm going to do, fillet those fish? It's not like they have heads and tails, and I eat the eyeballs! No siree, Bob! But I DO eat the spines. They're inside the sardines, you know. So there might be a little crunch. And you can definitely see the spines as you're forking the fish, separating bite-size portions to dip into the mustard sauce. And yes, I eat them right out of the can.
All right. Get ready, because the picture of the inside of the can is coming up below. I hope that's all that comes up. I hope none of you have a delicate constitution like Velvet Brown, in the Enid Bagnold classic National Velvet. So get ready. It will be after the next paragraph.
There's been a problem of late with my daily Sardines in Mustard Sauce. For some reason, the fish are getting BIGGER. That's not a good thing. A long time ago, there were four sardines per can. But in recent years, there are three. NOW those three are like giant fish! Wedged into that can like a geometric puzzle. FAT giant fish. Not long and thin like I might prefer. LOOK at them!
I would prefer my sardines to be more svelte and dainty. Not these leviathans! I swear, I almost need a scaler! I've caught fish smaller than that, and been happy with my catch. I know that a sardine is not a specific species of fish. But there should be length and girth requirements, methinks. And some sorters along the canning line, hopefully more adept than Lucy and Ethel at the chocolates factory.
I don't mean to seem ungrateful for the extra protein for the price. I just don't like my sardines to look so much like...well...FISH!