An American chap called Christopher Beckman has written a book all about anchovies.
It's called A Twist in the Tail.
Nigella says it's “a must-read for anchovy obsessives”.
And she’s right.
I definitely became an anchovy obsessive - if not addict - during my 6 years in Spain.
It started with boquerones fritos. They’re the whole fresh anchovies, dipped in chickpea flour and deep fried until golden brown, that are ubiquitous in the bars and chiringuitos of every Spanish summer. Simply delicious, and the perfect accompaniment to an ice-cold beachside beer.
Entry level stuff, I guess you might say.
But over time, as often happens, things got more serious….
As is usually the way, an older friend - Javier - introduced me to the hard stuff: anchoas.
The same fish, but pimped to the max.
Caught by horny-handed, hard-as-nails Basque fishermen in the treacherous waters of the Bay of Biscay, these anchovies are filleted and then manually pin-boned with tweezers (really!), before being salted and stuffed into barrels to age and ferment.
Over the course of those barrelled months, the white flesh turns a rich, dark brown colour; the texture develops a meaty succulence; and the flavour….
Oh! The flavour!
It’s genuinely difficult to describe, such is the magic, but let’s just say that the word ‘umami’ might as well have been invented for this taste sensation. Expansive and lingering.
Not so humble, after all, perhaps.
AND NOTHING AT ALL LIKE THOSE HORRIBLE SPIKY-BONY, SUPER-SALTY PATHETIC LITTLE THINGS THAT THEY STICK ON PIZZAS. (Just so we’re clear.)
You can buy proper anchoas here – but there aren’t loads and you can buy them on the condition that you promise to follow the 3 rules of anchoas, as laid down to me by Javi:
1. Anchoas MUST be eaten at room temperature. Only a scoundrel would eat them fridge-cold.
2. Anchoas MUST be savoured slowly, one-at-a-mind-blowingly-delicious-time.
3. Anchoas MUST be accompanied by a glass of either exceptionally cold, exceptionally dry sherry (ideally en rama), or a fabulous red wine* which should be served Spanish style, i.e. on the cool side.
And before you reject all this as top-down, classic European dirigisme, let me tell you that Javi is a guy who knows what he’s talking about.
He is, after all, the man who said to me -
“De only difference, Nick, between you Britiss and us Espaniss is dis: we Espaniss hab had 500 years to get over our empire.
Joo hab had only 50.”
Wise words, amigo.
Wise, wise words.
Nick
PS – If you know your liquamen from your garum, you’ll know there’s a whole other layer of the anchovy onion to peel. But we’ll save that for another time. Rome wasn’t built in a day. (Even if it was built on garum….)
*Amber and Chris’ Anjou cabernet franc will do this job brilliantly, for what it’s worth. I’ve done the hard yards on this for ya. You’re welcome.
