We laid down the tablecloth, place mats, napkins and party hats. I hung the paper sun over the table and the garland over the door. We were ready for our late-season kräftskiva, (crayfish party) inside our boathouse on the water.

And then it dawned on us.

“This place is going to stink.”

We carried the table outside, into the fresh air, overlooking the calm water.

“We will be happy we did that,” said Jennifer, with a knowing look in her eye.

What was going to make the house stink?

We had shrimp. We had crayfish, we had a couple of varieties of seafood salad. None of those should post a problem, right? So what was so scary?

What was scary was the thing that was making this kräftskiva unique. Something not normally eaten at a crayfish party but something Jennifer really wanted us to try nonetheless: Surströmming. Fermented herring.

Yep. Fermented. Herring.

You open the can and the smell of rot hits you like a Mike Tyson uppercut. It is powerful and deep, implying of forces beyond normal human experience.

Unlike a usual Mike Tyson match, though, most people survive the initial assault and ultimately discover an interesting, complex and even delicious party food.

On its own, the flavor is strong: “fishy,” yes, but more than that. Just as fermentation changes grape juice into wine, it does the same to herring, adding layers of flavor and texture that unveil themselves as you eat. But just like any kind of alcohol, you won’t appreciate the flavor if you don’t ingest it thoughtfully. You’ll just get knocked out.

Here is what I was instructed to do: take a piece of Swedish flatbread, then layer on butter (of course), boiled potatoes, hard Swedish cheese, red onion, dill, sour cream and plenty of small pieces of Surströmming, all strategically placed to get a little bit of everything in each bite.

The result is a complex strata of flavor - at once rich, creamy, sharp, sweet and savory. The fermented funkiness doesn’t go away, it just sits at the bottom, providing deep, deep flavor.

It goes well with beer. It goes even better with Aquavit, or Swedish Snaps.

Sure, every once in a while a corpse-like smell would waft over from the can. And yes, the occasional belch would remind me that I was still in the ring with the Mike Tyson of seafood,. But I really did enjoy it. I had two helpings of the stuff.

We sat at the table eating and talking, interrupting our feast occasionally to sing a song and knock back a snaps.

As the sun went down we moved inside to eat ice cream and drink a little more. And then off to bed we all went, dreaming of nautical adventures and serene seascapes.

Our dear Swedes had held a crayfish party, and just for us they had included the unusual guest appearance of Surströmming. This is the style of giving and kindness they’ve shown us for years, and the kind of thing I will always remember fondly. No matter how bad it smelled.