I love these sardines in oil since the day my parents brought this 6 year-old to their friend’s gathering. My family would never buy these sort of sardines but only of the more economical regional brands in regular with tomato sauce in cylindrical cans for our meals. In my family imported Norwegian sardines were considered an extravagance at RM1.20 a pop in 1971 for the cheapest brand with what I couldn’t make out if it was a green-capped gnome, midget or dwarf sleeping under a mushroom on the label (PIXIE).
Dad would pick up a can just for me whenever he had to visit this particular supermarket (Fitzpatrike’s) situated along Jalan Raja Chulan in Kuala Lumpur for work. I didn’t have to share with my siblings because they didn’t like it and would prefer the ‘economical’ ones with tomato sauce; good riddance for that!
In retrospect, Chinese fathers hardly showed any signs of endearment, especially from my dad’s generation but these little gestures among the countless were telling signs. To me they were never tactile with affection probably in fear of breaking some kind of an invisible wall to reveal some sort of weaknesses? They showed up by being present in every challenging circumstance that life threw at us…while I occasionally gave him and my mom headaches no asprins could have elevated!
This is why every time I see a can of these Norwegian sardines, I immediately think of him. No, Dad wasn’t a sardine…I am referring to his unconditional love.
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