Anchovies two ways
I’m an anchovy advocate, born into a family of anchovy lovers. These small, humble fish are brimming with flavour. Today I'm sharing 2 Italian recipes to learn to appreciate anchovies.
When I cook, I often get hungry. I like to nibble on something, so I’ll open the fridge and grab the unsalted butter and the small jar of salt-packed anchovies that is always sitting in a corner of my fridge. A slice of bread will do. I’ll slather it with butter, then tackle the anchovy. I rinse a fillet under cold running water, remove the bones, and then place it on my buttered bread. If I’m feeling sophisticated, I’ll add a tiny wedge of lemon; otherwise, I’ll greedily bite into my pane e acciuga with utter satisfaction. In its stark simplicity, this is food fit for a king.
I’m an anchovy advocate, born into a family of anchovy lovers. Trust me: Don’t let your past bad experiences with overcooked, shrivelled anchovies on pizza prevent you from discovering the extraordinary qualities of good anchovies, ones that have been treated or cooked with care.
These small, humble fish are brimming with flavour. You can eat them on their own, which for me is a treat, especially when paired with excellent butter and crusty bread. Drape one on half a hard-boiled egg, and you’ll elevate it to the status of cicchetti, the Venetian version of tapas.
Even more interestingly, though, anchovies can become your secret ingredient in the kitchen when slowly melted in warm olive oil. They add an umami boost not only to seafood dishes and soups but also to meat stews and braises, to salad vinaigrettes and vegetable stir-fries. The added flavour is not fishy at all, it just enhances all the other flavours.
Which is your relationship with anchovies? Love or hate?
