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Fish paste should not have been hooked

- YOGIN DEVAN Devan is a media consultant and social commentato­r.

IT WAS a heartbreak­ing occurrence deserving of a week-long period of national mourning.

Flags should have been flown at halfmast and condolence books opened. Memorial activities should have been scheduled. The populace should have been urged to wear black.

But there was no such thing when, with no advance warning, the ubiquitous fish paste disappeare­d from South African supermarke­t shelves.

The death knell came when Pioneer Foods announced a fortnight into the new year that it was ending the production of Peck’s Anchovette and Redro Fish Paste. There was an immediate outcry by adults who digitally bawled out their eyes on social media platforms.

Jonathan Jansen, Professor of Education at Stellenbos­ch University, said fish paste should have been made a “a national key point” so that such an iconic item could not be simply wished away.

Jane Badham, a dietitian and nutritioni­st, said she was feeling woeful.

“I used to treat myself to anchovy toast when I went out for breakfast or tea.”

Desmond Naidoo, a TV show producer, said starving the nation of fish paste was like denying the sun the right to shine.

Linda Barron, the former CEO of the Comrades Marathon Associatio­n, recalled how when she was growing up, she would have anchovy toast with her mother after shopping in town. Fish paste remained on her menu ever since.

Jeremy Maggs, a journalist and television news anchor, wrote: “My world is shattered. I feel like a panicky sardine caught in a tight net off the South Coast.”

He recollecte­d that on a cold winter’s afternoon after school rugby, he would look forward to a pot of tea and anchovy toast.

Fish paste may not be everyone’s cup of tea – or slice of toast. It is an acquired taste. Many people detest it because of its strong saltiness and the fishy smell that hangs on your breath hours after.

Peck’s Anchovette, originally from the UK, dates back to 1891. It only arrived in South Africa in the 1960s, and until then, South Africans cosied up to Redro, a local fish spread developed from a local family recipe in the 1930s. When Peck’s gained traction locally, Redro was downgraded to a more “value for money” fish paste cousin.

To appease those who prefer hot food, Peck’s used to also make a peri-peri flavour which I have not seen in ages. I guess the zesty version would have found favour among those who enjoy canned Jutland sardines mashed with finely chopped onions, tomato, plentiful green chillies, salt and pepper and spread on fresh buttered white bread. I am sure such delectable fare could have easily qualified as a much craved for last supper on Pretoria’s Death Row.

Now just why would a food item that was around for decades be suddenly discontinu­ed? Pioneer Foods says the decision was part of its ongoing portfolio review and was necessitat­ed by a gradual decline in sales over the past few years. In short, fish paste was no longer profitable.

I grew up on fish paste. My mother would make sure it was on the weekly grocery list. We bought one small jar at a time because if you did not eat it all quickly, a grey layer of mould would cover the pink paste, never mind that the bottle was sealed tight and kept in the fridge.

If my mother was not looking, I could have just scraped off the mould and eaten the fish paste. After all, I am not averse to mould – Gorgonzola blue cheese which has mould is my favourite and is very rich in vitamin B2, B6 and B12. These are extremely important for the nervous system and the immune system. In any case you cannot make cheese without adding cultures or moulds. Now let’s forget cheese and get back to fish paste.

I enjoyed fish paste at home and took it as a sandwich spread all through my school years. I do not recall my siblings having the same affinity for fish paste as I did. But then I have always been partial to salty foodstuff, never mind that the weakness of the taste buds now makes me reach out for my daily dose of medication for high blood pressure.

There must be few pleasurabl­e food sensations as hot white toast smeared with dollops of real butter and then immediatel­y followed by a liberal applicatio­n of fish paste. The only other mouth-wateringly delicious experience that can compete with anchovy toast for me has got to be the smell of sizzling bacon drifting through the house when you are still in bed.

After marriage, my wife, who loathed fish paste, made me anchovy toast for breakfast regularly. For her, smearing fish paste on my toast gave true meaning to the second part of the marriage vow “for better, for worse”.

My children did not take to fish paste, no matter how much I cajoled them to share in my food experience­s. Why, even up to about a month ago, I would regularly coax my daughter to try fish paste and would promise to deliver in return for her gastronomi­c exploratio­n some item she hankered over, like wireless earbuds. I must confess my sweet-talking attempts failed dismally. And now with fish paste vanishing, I will never be able to get my girl to savour one of life’s last pleasures.

By the time fish paste lovers learnt the bad news about their favourite sandwich spread, stocks had run out on many supermarke­t shelves around the country. When I first heard that fish paste was to follow in the footsteps of Mainstay cane spirit and was destined for oblivion, I rushed to my local supermarke­t to find just three soulful bottles of Redro positioned as if they were ready to render The Last Post.

A box that would have contained at least two dozen green-labelled bottles of Peck’s Anchovette was empty. I picked up only one bottle of Redro. I reckoned two other people should also savour the melancholy of a final purchase.

For now, I am prepared to swop my 125g bottle of Redro that cost me R19.99 for a litre of 20-year-old single malt whisky. Later I may ask for a whole case – the expiry date for my bottled treasure is some time away on July 23, 2023.

Meanwhile, there would appear to be an increase in favourite snacks, drinks, and general food items silently disappeari­ng from supermarke­t shelves due to poor sales, health concerns and ingredient scarcity.

In 2020, Nestlé announced that it would be discontinu­ing its Chocolate Log product in South Africa. Last year, Simba discontinu­ed their “All Gold Tomato Sauce” flavour.

The chips may have been down for Simba’s tomato sauce, Nestlé chocolate may have logged out, but fish paste should not have been hooked. I say give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach him the taste of fish paste and you feed him for a lifetime.

 ?? Supplied ?? THE writer says by the time fish paste lovers learnt the bad news about their favourite sandwich spread, stocks had run out on many supermarke­t shelves around the country. |
Supplied THE writer says by the time fish paste lovers learnt the bad news about their favourite sandwich spread, stocks had run out on many supermarke­t shelves around the country. |
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