A Different Drum: Relishing the ongoing debate: dill versus sweet

I spent time within Lent this year wondering where I could get a good fish sandwich that’s enhanced with good tartar sauce. I meant to ask around, but whenever I was with someone who would likely volunteer his/her opinion, I’d forget to pose the question. Some political pollster I’d make.

Lent would have been the perfect time to investigate the fish and fish sandwich scene, as restaurants frequently run specials on them during the season known for meatless traditions among some groups. On a brighter note, I did dine at one Catholic organization’s fish fry.

Growing up Catholic, I resigned myself that if it were a Friday night during Lent, I would be eating either fish sandwich or fish sticks. It would always be some kind of minced fish bits, reconstituted into a more palatable geometric shape — the nutritional equivalent of pressboard.

When times were better for our family, we traded up to battered fish fillets that came in triangular shapes with slightly rounded corners. I much preferred them, but understood the how and the why of family economic star alignment in order for them to show up in our freezer.  Therefore, I didn’t hold it against my mom for not serving them more regularly. Those fish fillets hailing from colorful yellow boxes seemed much more sophisticated than Mrs. Paul’s plain old fish sticks.

I did hold it against my dad for not being Catholic and therefore not having to play the fish shell game with the rest of our household. But he’d sit there and watch the rest of the family munching on minced fish while he’d opt for some meat-based leftovers. Grrr. What the heck?!

However, in that pre-Fry Daddy era, my Dad always eagerly helped himself (to loud protests led by me) to the fries on the baking sheet that also held whatever form of fish. The way I figured it, if you wanted the “chips”, you should have to eat the fish along with it.

I wondered who might lend some authority to this topic. I decided upon American culinary expert James Beard, who legitimized American and English cooking during the 40s-60s, and whose cookbooks I have collected. Beard’s recipe for tartar sauce can be found at www.jamesbeard.org/recipes/tartar-sauce:

• 1 cup mayonnaise

• 1/3 cup finely chopped dill pickle

• 1/3 cup finely chopped onion

• 1 teaspoon finely chopped capers

• 1/4 teaspoon Dijon mustard, or to taste

• Dash of lemon juice or tarragon vinegar

That’s pretty much aligned with how I fix tartar sauce, but by way of disclaimer, I will state I have NEVER added capers, which has always seemed like overkill. Additionally, if you’re short enough on money that you’re eating pressboard fish, odds are good you probably don’t have an optional ingredient like capers just sitting around. Let me also admit I like to used dried minced onions in place of fresh ones when I’m in a hurry or don’t have any onions diced ahead in the fridge (my immediate family is comprised of onion lovers).

Probably the most controversial aspect of the above tartar sauce recipe is that it contains chopped dill pickles, versus sweet pickles. The pickle or relish type serve as a tartar sauce dividing line. Chef Gordon Ramsay favors dill, while Chef Emeril Lagasse prefers a sweeter taste with his sauce. People generally feel strongly about their preference.

From my childhood, I can vouch for the imminent importance of tartar sauce and its almighty taste-covering-up properties when you’re dining on pressboard fish. Many evils were disguised before the phrase “kitchen confidential” was ever uttered.

Armed with that knowledge, I went about happily making Miracle Whip and sweet relish tartar sauce under the tutelage of my mother — until I experienced the modern miracle of mayonnaise and dill relish tartar sauce at a friend’s house.

I can recall coming home and pleading with my mother to let me make the non-sweet tartar sauce for our family. You’d have thought I’d proposed throwing in a walnut-sized measure of Drano as the secret ingredient. Not on your life, sister!

I’ve since discovered, after graduating to a higher grade of fish, it’s easier to avoid tartar sauce all together, which allows skipping the aftertaste of its memories.

— Kristy Smith’s Different Drum humor columns are archived at her blog: diffdrum.wordpress.com.

This article originally appeared on The Holland Sentinel: A Different Drum: Relishing the ongoing debate: dill versus sweet