The curiosities of food

by P. L. Simmonds

Frezier (Voyage to the South Seas) speaks of seeing a sort of anchovy on the west coast of America, in such great numbers, that whole baskets full of them were readily taken on the surface of the water.

The anchovy and tunny fisheries of Dalmatia are important, though not so much so as during the last century; at present they furnish employment to about 8,000 men.

Anchovies are imported in small kegs, weighing about 12 lbs. each. The consumption varies here, from 50 to 100 tons a year.

Sheridan used to relate an amusing story of an Irish officer, who once belonged to a regiment in Malta, who returned to England on leave of absence, and, according to the custom of travellers, was fond of relating the wonders he had seen. Among other things, he one day, in a public coffee-room, expatiated on the excellence of living in general among the military at Malta. But, said he, ‘as for anchovies, by the powers, there is nothing to be seen like them in the known world;’ and he added, ‘I have seen the anchovies grow upon the trees with my own eyes many’s the hundred times, and beautiful is the grove of them the governor has in his garden on the esplanade.’ A gentleman present disputed the statement that anchovies grew on trees, which the Irishman with much warmth re-affirmed. The lie passed, a challenge was given, and the upshot of the matter is thus humorously related.

‘The Englishman gave his address, and the next day the parties met, attended by their seconds; they fired, and O’Flanagan’s shot took effect in the fleshy part of his opponent’s thigh, which made the latter jump a foot from the ground, and fall flat upon his back, where he lay a few seconds in agony, kicking his heels. This being observed by the Irishman’s second, he said:—‘You have hit your man, O’Flanagan, that is certain, I think not dangerously, however, for see what capers he cuts.’

‘‘Capers, capers!’ exclaimed the Irishman. ‘Oh! by the powers, what have I done? What have I done? What a dreadful mistake!’ and running up to his wounded antagonist, he took his hand, and pressing it eagerly, thus addressed him:—‘My dear friend, if you’re kilt, I ax your pardon in this world and in the next, for I made a devil of a mistake: and it was capers that I saw growing upon the trees at Malta, and no anchovies at all.’

‘The wounded man, smiling at his ludicrous explanation and apology, said,—‘My good fellow, I wish you had thought of that a little sooner; I don’t think you have quite killed me, but I hope you will remember the difference between anchovies and capers as long as you live.’’

That highly esteemed fish, the sardine (Clupea sardina), which is closely allied to the pilchard, though much smaller, is found chiefly in the Mediterranean. It is taken in considerable quantities on our shores, and is exceedingly plentiful on the coast of Algarva, in Portugal, Andalusia and Granada in Spain, and along the shores of Italy. The small sardines, caught on the coast of Provence, in France, are esteemed the best. The French frequently cure them in red brine, and when thus prepared, designate them anchovied sardines. Sardines constitute a considerable portion of the food of the lower orders in Lisbon. 6,269 cases of sardines were imported into San Francisco, in 1853.

In 1852, 576 millions of sardines were taken on the coast of Brittany, which extends about 200 miles. Half of these were sold fresh and the other half preserved in oil. 160 vessels manned by 3,500 sailors and fishermen are engaged in the trade. The preparation, transport, and sale of the fish employ 10,000 persons. 9,000 of these, of whom one half are females, are occupied all the winter in making and mending of nets. On shore, the preparation, conveyance, and sale of the fish give occupation to 4,500 persons, of whom 2,500 are women; and in the interior of the country 4,400 other persons are occupied in the sale.

The fishing lasts about 200 days, and yields a net profit to all concerned of three millions of francs. The sardines disappear in November and return in April. Where they go during these four months, why they go, or what they do while gone, has never yet been discovered. The fishermen say that the same individuals never come twice, that every successive arrival is composed of fish of smaller size than those that left last, and that they appear to be their young. At any rate, they count implicitly on their appearance, and no sardine was ever yet known to break an engagement thus tacitly entered into.