Friday fish fry remains a bastion of togetherness — just hold the muskrat | Nissa Enos
Those who went to Catholic school might recall the preternaturally colored, bright orange, sea-creature-shaped fish sticks that appeared on Fridays. In case anyone out there does not know, Catholics abstain from eating certain types of meat on Friday, often substituting fish instead.
This means an abundance of fish fries held at restaurants, bars and VFW posts. Anyone can enjoy a good fish fry. Attendees come from all backgrounds.
According to catholicism.org, the tradition arose as “a penance imposed by the Church […] to enable us to make a small sacrifice for the incredible sacrifice,” referring to the crucifixion of Jesus.
It is not fish that is prescribed but the flesh of warm-blooded land animals that is forbidden. Technically, reptiles and insects would be on the menu.
Certain fish, such as the tuna, which has a heated body core, might not be allowed. Or are the cold-blooded parts allowed but not the warm-blooded parts? Save the warm-blooded parts for Saturday?
An underlying tension prevents Catholics from developing snake as a culinary item. The dissonance would be too great for a believer to say, after scarfing down a particularly gourmet snake fricassee, “verily, the serpent is good.”
The central concept is one of austerity. I am forced to admit that today’s meatless Fridays are more feast than fast.
Fish, shipped in from exotic locations, deep fried in a salty breaded or battered crust, ran out with gratuitous side starches until the platters hold more food than most mere mortals can eat in one meal, is not the picture of continence for which the church was aiming.
On one hand, for it to count as a fast it has to feel at least slightly like a sacrifice, not just an indulgence. On the other hand, Catholics have always been good at turning a hardship around and making it into an occasion for social togetherness and enjoyment.
If we can’t eat the flesh of the land, at least we can eat the flesh of the water, and we can come together to do it. Under this concept, some interesting animals have counted as fish and, therefore, been assigned a spot on the Friday dinner plate.
The Archdiocese of Detroit allows certain Michiganders to count muskrat as fish. They go by the logic that it is a long-standing tradition and that the animal lives primarily in water.
Lest this seem like a silly way to classify something, remember that we currently classify the same cloud as being different types based upon whether we see it from below or from the side.
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Some point out that this work-around amounts to cheating. Others point out that eating muskrat is more of a punishment than eating fish.
Muskrat preparation critically involves removal of the musk sacks, odoriferous glands located at the hind end of the animal. That is only the beginning. Further treatment includes parboiling, onion, spices, butter, frying and garlic, before it starts to become palatable to the masses.
Even then, it is largely men who flock to muskrat dinners. Women are thought to be less enthused about the animal’s naked tail, its “flavorful” meat, and the fact that it has “rat” in the name. As a result, they are saying, “I’ll just go with the perch, please!”
Even though it has become feast not fast, I can’t veto the Friday fish fry. Former Surgeon General Vivek Murthy has pointed out that premature mortality caused by loneliness “is similar to that caused by smoking 15 cigarettes a day, and it’s greater than the impact on life span of obesity.”
The most precious and dwindling resource is each other, and at least the fish fry is a still-standing bastion of togetherness.
Community columnist Nissa Enos is a Manitowoc resident.