Friday, January 16, 2009

Tuna Fridays


I’ve written before about my attending Catholic School from Kindergarten to eight grade. Many of you that were born after 1965 may have a different impression of Catholicism than what it really was before that year. 1965 was the rear of reform for the church. This reform was known as Vatican II and it changed everything. All the old ingrained behaviors went out the window, though many resisted the change and probably still do to this day.

Vatican II turned the altar around so the priest faced the people, removing the mystery of what was going on at the altar. Women no longer had to wear hats while inside a church. Mass was now done in English and Latin faded away. The nuns were allowed to show their hair and wear shorter skirts as long as they wore thick black stocking on their legs. We no longer had to eat only fish on Fridays.

The reason I post this is because I was recently made some tuna salad. You know how a smell can take you back? I made a tuna sandwich recently, but before eating it I had to go and get something from my shop that I wanted to work on after lunch. Upon re-entering the kitchen where my plated sandwich waited for me; the scent of tuna entered my olfactory sense that had been cleared by the visit to my shop. It took me back to walking into my school cafeteria on a Friday afternoon where there were a hundred children munching on their Friday tuna sandwiches. The tuna waft was best described as remarkable.

Then I think back to the beatings that some kids got when their moms screwed up and put a ham sandwich in their lunch by mistake. Peanut butter or cheese sandwiches were OK but no other meat other than fish was permissible on Fridays. The nuns would go down the row of tables inspecting everyone’s lunch.

I will post this memory on Friday, and if you read it around lunch time, you can bet I will not be eating tuna.

12 Comments:

Blogger Beth said...

I’m not Catholic but whenever I happen to serve fish on Fridays, I think of that tradition. Indicative of how pervasive an influence the Catholic Church had.

4:43 AM  
Blogger Auntie said...

No, you wont be eating tuna, you will undoubtedly be eating your usual PB sammy instead.

My dad had a name for us Catholics that stems from the Friday tradition. (and if he would have been alive when I converted to Catholicism, he would have cracked up).... anyway, the name was:

"mackerel-snappers."

5:45 AM  
Blogger weese said...

ah...public schools.
:)
I can't remember what we got for hot lunch on fridays. I bet it was pizza or something like that - since it was pre-'65 I am sure they had to somewhat conform... without the beatings that is.

6:12 AM  
Blogger Trish said...

Smell does have an incredible hold on our memories. I went to school in England as a small child and am taken back there the instant I smell anything like boiled beef, potatoes or peas.

And even though we are not Catholic, my mother always served fish on Fridays - just to be safe.

7:44 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Well...we are called herring chokers in my part of the country. And the province next door are called bluenosers...and then of course there are the Noofs. But I digress...sorry...auntie's fault. As far as today's post goes...all I have to say is...Abstinence makes the church grow fondlers...

Reminds me...think I'll go out and get some pickled herring.

Moose

7:48 AM  
Blogger dalia said...

love TF sandwiches. love them. i didn't eat them much as a child; discovered them i think when my babysitter served them one day. i was hooked since then.

i don't eat them often, but last week i made one and discovered that adding a wee bit of parm cheese to the mix really adds a nice flavour. umami!

i piled it on pumpernickel bread (not a usual choice, but the boyf bought it and it was all i had) and had prolly the best TF sandwich ever.

yum.

10:16 AM  
Blogger g said...

ah, the season of lent.

i look forward to it.

7:31 PM  
Blogger darev2005 said...

Tuna and hard boiled eggs and a bit of parmesan (yay dalia!) and just a dash of Kraft 3 cheese ranch dressing... the best!

Smells do have strong memory places in our brains. Some of my strongest smell memories I wouldn't want to discuss in the same column as food products.

I'm beginning to think it's time for Vatican III. I have yet to hear this new pope say anything at all that I liked. He seems to be a bit archaic and regressive. I think he would love to bring back the Inquisition. Just the kind of person we need right now.

3:53 AM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Beth it all came from a fasting tradition.

Auntie, it was chicken salad with pecans and cranberry. I am so over PB.

Weese, the beatings were strange. Everyone saying, "Whoa, that could easily be me."

Trish, you should ask her about that and what her motivation was for that Friday ritual.

Moose, what is the origin of Noof?

Dalia, I am a memory machine. Happy I could take you back.

g, I never heard of anyone looking forward to Lent. You could start now.

Darev, the new guy doesn't look like he'd be good at reading stories to children.

6:31 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thought you would never ask...Noofs come from the province of Newfoundland and are the butt of many many jokes...such as...

Two Noofs walk into a restaurant. Suddenly, a woman at a nearby table, who is eating a sandwich, begins to cough. After a minute or so, it becomes apparent that she is in real distress. One of the Noofs looks at her and says, 'Kin ya swallar?'

The woman shakes her head no.

Then he asks, 'Kin ya breathe?'

The woman begins to turn blue and shakes her head no.

The Noof walks over to the woman, lifts up her dress, yanks down her drawers and quickly gives her right butt cheek a lick with his tongue. The woman is so shocked that she has a violent spasm and the obstruction flies out of her mouth. As she begins to breathe again, the Noof walks slowly back to his table.

His partner says, 'Ya know, I'd heerd of that there 'Hind Lick Maneuver' but I ain't niver seed nobody do it!'

Moose

10:09 AM  
Blogger g said...

to me, lent is more important than Christmas.

it is the beginning of the new beginning.

11:38 AM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Moose, you are too much. Damn you are funny!

g, It's hard for me to believe that you aren't trying to pull my leg on this one.

6:16 PM  

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