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. 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, shriveled 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 flavor. 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.
Anchovies 3 Ways
I grew up in an anchovy-loving family, so there have always been anchovies in our fridge. I store them in the fridge once the jars are opened, and they can keep for months. They usually come in three forms:Salt-packed Anchovies
These anchovies are sold whole, bones and tail intact, covered in coarse sea salt. You either find them in glass jars in supermarkets, or big cans in local delis. Rinse them thoroughly under cold running water to remove the excess salt, then simply fillet them by removing the spine; from each anchovy, you will obtain two neat fillets.If you’re looking for high quality and an intense anchovy experience, opt for salt-packed anchovies, as the preserving process concentrates the flavor, capturing the briny taste of the sea. Use these anchovies in pasta sauces or vinaigrettes, or to make acciughe al verde, anchovy fillets marinated in a herby sauce, or bagna cauda, Piedmont’s famous assertive, garlic-based dip.