Went for my annual checkup--which occurs about every three years...

and my suspicions were confirmed. Cholesterol-ly speaking, I am not an average man. I am an unusual and very special member of a very small and elite population blessed with a physical constitution so remarkable that I am able to function and thrive under conditions that would put the average man in an ICU if not a premature grave.

So I have decided that my next goal in life is to become an average man.

Yes, I know it’s a meager ambition, but I’ve already accomplished so much in this general direction that I think it would be negligent, if not downright lazy of me, to apply the brakes at this late date and fail to reach the final frontier of the middle ground whose path to which I have been trudging along lo these many years.

So, with renewed vigor and determination I shall venture forth into a land where chock full of Omega-3 oil fishies slide daily down my gullet and high fiber grains and steel cut oats blend and boil in bowls of non-fat liquids free of the poisonous preservatives and processed palliatives that once trafficked down the clogged roads of my intestinal interstate.


No, it won’t be easy. I’ll miss my friends who I used to joke around with at the Deli and Chinese Take out joints. I’ll miss those funny, sweet, master chefs Mufi and his cousin on the corner of 6th Avenue who make the tastiest and juiciest Shawarma this side of Azerbaijan. I’ll miss the thick sliced Liverwurst they always generously layer on for me at the friendly and affordable local grocery on 8th Ave and I’ll miss those creamy rich Mocha Lattes I so heedlessly shell out 5 smackers for simply to linger in the luscious memory of Malteds and Milk Shakes from days of yore.

But here’s the good news.




I love these guys!



And did you know…?

Another name for Sardines is Pilchards

Sardines are named after the Mediterranean island of Sardinia, around which they were once abundant.

A small serving of sardines once a day can provide 13 percent of vitamin B2; roughly one-quarter of niacin and about 150 percent of vitamin B12 of the recommended daily value.

Canned sardines in supermarkets may actually be sprat (such as the “brisling sardine”) or round herrings.

Sardines are a prominent prop in Michael Frayn's farce Noises Off.

The traditional "Toast to Pilchards" refers to the lucrative export of the fish to Catholic Europe:

“ Here's health to the Pope, may he live to repent
And add just six months to the term of his Lent

And tell all his vassals from Rome to the Poles,

There's nothing like pilchards for saving their souls!"

So why aren't they more popular here in America?

Apparently, for a host of reasons, but it mostly comes down to fishiness.
Seems that though we like meaty meat, we don't like fishy fish.
But I think it's also lack of familiarity and tradition. Sardines don't taste fishy, they taste Sardine-ey.
The only fish that tastes fishy to me is fish that's not fresh. And I think when people say they don't like fishy fish, they usually mean they don't like fish that isn't fresh. Anyone who's ever eaten any fish cooked minutes after being caught knows what I'm talking about. It's practically sweet. From what I've read, the industry still thrives in other parts of the world, but it's on life-support here in the states.

Packers fill sardine cans at the Stinson Seafood plant in Gouldsboro, Maine, April 25, 2005, Once the nations's last sardine cannery, Stinson closed after a century in operation.


In Australia’s largest Sardine Fishery by weight, with about 30,000 tonnes harvested annually, Sardines are raised mostly to feed farmed tuna, but increasingly to supply the human consumption market.

So if you’re eating tuna, you’re likely also eating Sardines.

And they're not expensive.
Which is why they played a prominent role in my diet during my lean years when a couple of the closely aligned sea critters laid (missing) head to (missing) tail across a couple of mustard covered onion bagels with sliced onions and tomatoes constituted a fabulous feast in my cockroach infested Hot Water Flat on W. 10th St. in Greenwich Village.


All I gotta do is lose the bagel, and I'm back in business...30 years later and a bucket full of LDL points higher.