A world without hot buttered toast smeared with fish paste is too horrible to contemplate. Since the announcement at the end of 2021 that Redro fish paste and Peck’s Anchovette have been discontinued, the public has been rather vocal about it, showing us there is in fact still a significant demand for the products. 

If you’ve lived long enough, the discontinuation of various products, from toiletries and cosmetics to food, is inevitable and annoying. When you think about something as intrinsically woven into our culture and collective memories as a Chocolate Log, you have to wonder what went on in that boardroom that prompted the decision to delete it. Did anyone speak up for the poor Chocolate Log? Did no one there that day ever get chocolate and sticky mallow all over their faces?

Were there really so few people still buying it that canning it was the better option? When PepsiCo, owner of Lay’s and Simba chip brands, dumped the All Gold Tomato Sauce flavour, it was the result of a public vote, with Salt & Vinegar and Cheese & Onion holding on relatively tightly. For now. PepsiCo said at the time: “South Africans have changed their taste preferences over time and are moving away from sweet, salty, creamy and tangy favourites… customers are now moving towards braai flavours such as Shisanyama, Chilli Biltong and Chakalaka.”

Fascinating. Like two minute noodles, I’ve never once put a chip in my mouth and thought “oh yes, that’s the taste of smoked beef right there”, so why does it matter? There is a flavour and it corresponds to the description on the packet. But not a heck is it a representation of the real life article; obviously, since it’s all artificial flavouring, preservatives and ingredients without names, only letters and numbers. That chip didn’t come anywhere near a steak.

When PepsiCo stopped making Redro fish paste and Peck’s Anchovette at the end of 2021, there was no vote of which I am aware. It was part of an “ongoing portfolio review”. Sure, I get it. Nothing lasts forever, things change, the world moves on. But looking at the ongoing commentary on Facebook, as well as the enormous interest in separate Daily Maverick stories Jeremy Maggs and I wrote a month ago, and the 93K plus views of Georgia East’s homemade fish paste recipe on Instagram, which she shared with us, it becomes clear that, had the masses been consulted, perhaps the outcome would have been different.

Or not. South Africans are strangely apathetic even when they are allowed to have their say, like on Dear South Africa, a platform which grants us our democratic right to weigh in on all sorts of serious matters that affect our lives a lot more than a toast spread. Complaining after the fact is what we’re really good at. Plus it’s human nature to want what you can no longer have.

Jeremy Maggs and his precious loot. (Photo: Supplied)

Look at that picture of Jeremy Maggs with all his fish paste. Is that not the face of a delighted man? And look at all that fish paste. While supermarket shelves around the country had been emptied, from dorpies to the big cities, PepsiCo had been hoarding this stash. My theory is there is always “more” somewhere, which comes from being around wine people who swear it’s the last case, but they mean for sale; they have at least six in their private cellar.

“The smiling fish lady arrived in a jar laden car,” Maggs described the special delivery, made over a weekend, which was impressive in itself. “I wept quietly. She was clutching 12 bottles of Peck’s and 12 of Redro.

“I took them into my man cave and snarled at the managing partner as she suggested we give some away.

“She won.”

A small online competition ensued on managing partner Anne Maggs’s Facebook page, which was won by Helen Holyoake. Offers of payments, kidneys and blood sacrifices were out. You had to tell Maggs “the best description of anchovy toast in your mouth” to win a free bottle of either Redro or Peck’s – depending on his mood.

“Mmmm, latherings and latherings (sic) of Lurpak butter on cold toast with a generous layer of Pecks (sic), slices of cold tomato and fresh ground black pepper,” submitted Holyoake.

“She’ll have to prise her prize out of my fishy hands,” said Maggs ominously. 

He feels the “excruciating pain” of fish paste fans left without their favourite spread. “It’s like ripping an infant away from the nipple.”

Maggs is a genuine devotee: “I’d like to partake hourly. But slathered on buttered toast every Monday morning at 7am,” he said.

Twenty-three jars of fish paste in the pantry at this point is like a pile of gold for a dragon. I asked Maggs what he plans to do with his riches. “A few close friends will benefit. Otherwise it’s mine, I tell you, all mine.”

Further than that, to avoid being reported to some condiment regulatory authority, he had no comment.

Commenting on the Facebook post, acclaimed author Gus Silber put his tongue in his cheek and said: “Further proof for my personal theory that this is an artificial shortage created for marketing purposes. I expect a full-page ad and social media campaign any day now: ‘Dear South Africa, we’ve heard your pleas. Your favourite fish paste is back on the shelves!’ It’s all very fishy, if you ask me.”

If that turned out to be the case, and there is in fact a hidden supply, said Maggs, he’d call in a navy SEAL team to find it.

There’s an old Blues song that almost goes, “You don’t miss your fish paste ’till the ocean runs dry,” Silber said. “It’s a reminder that we tend to take consumer products and commodities for granted in a world of abundance, until the day arrives that the shelves are mysteriously bare, and then we suddenly notice what’s no longer there. Result: mass fishsteria.”

This is 100% accurate. I suspect that for the longest time, nobody wanted fish paste as much as they do right now. It’s also basic economics, supply and demand, one of the few things I remember from school.

“We saw this phenomenon with the Great Toilet-Paper Run of the early pandemic (there never was an actual shortage of toilet-paper, just a critical shortage of common sense and supermarket etiquette) and now we’re seeing it again with the supposed nationwide shortage of fish paste,” said Silber.

Anne Maggs, stoic wife of Jeremy, has her own take too. “Maybe PepsiCo is making a mistake getting rid of these two brands. We just needed to be reminded of how much we love them, and now that we miss them and wish we had bought them more often, maybe they should be introduced – maybe in a different format, a tube perhaps,” she said. “I know that one of the reasons I didn’t buy them too often is that one doesn’t really want to eat fish paste every day and if you didn’t finish the jar quickly it grew mould.”

Of all the scarce commodities for South Africans to get “devastated” about, as one headline put, why this? Silber wants to know. “Fish paste is not a sophisticated foodstuff, and nor can it be considered a basic good. Most of us grow out of the taste of fish paste by the time we are three. Any lingering yearning for it after that age is either nostalgia or a repressed Freudian instinct brought to the surface by a trending hashtag and a stock picture of a jar of Peck’s Anchovette. Well, I’m not buying it. 

“Empty shelves are a capitalist trick, as anyone who has ever shopped at Woolworths after 5pm will know all too well. The emptiness panics us into thinking we are living in North Korea, and so we transform into Fish Paste Zombies, scouring the lesser-known supermarkets for jars of remainders, whether or not they are past their expiry date.”

Mandy Murphy, GM Foods at PepsiCo SSA, said: “There is absolutely no stock available in any of our depots. I’m sure there are still a few jars floating around in retailers, but to try and track that info down is a mammoth task, and will probably be outdated by the time we report back.”

Hmmmm. Sooooooo the stash sent to Jeremy Maggs came from…..?

“There is no consideration of reinstating it,” continued Murphy, dashing hopes across the country. “We have sold the assets and trademarks etc to a third party. They are still planning what to do with it – they might start it up again – or not…”

Perhaps when “they”, whoever “they” are, investigate they’ll take consumers’ feelings into account and all will be well again, and the Fish Paste Zombies can come back into the daylight and smear their fix all over their hot buttered toast just like in the good old days.

“I don’t for a moment believe that there is a real shortage of fish paste in South Africa,” said Silber. “Why people have jumped to this conclusion on the basis of a simple transfer of assets from one company to another is beyond me. Still, I’m stocking up on Black Cat Peanut Butter, just in case.” DM/TGIFood

Follow Bianca Coleman on Instagram @biancaleecoleman

The writer supports Ladles Of Love, which in six years, has grown from serving 70 meals at its first soup kitchen, to one of the most prolific food charity organisations in South Africa.