Anchovies. You either love ’em, or you hate ’em, right? WRONG. In my experience, everybody loves anchovies—it’s just that some people don’t know they do. Talk to almost any chef or experienced home cook, and they’ll tell you that anchovies are one of the industry’s favorite not-so-secret secret weapons. Because they’re a concentrated source of glutamic and inosinic acid—two molecules responsible for triggering our sensation of savoriness—they’re irreplaceable for adding depth of flavor and a meaty backbone to, well, pretty much anything. Think you’re an exception to the rule? So do the long string of dinner guests to whom I’ve surreptitiously fed anchovies in various sauces, soups, salads, and stews.
3. Agostino Recca
Before we go any further, let’s get a few things straight. All anchovies are not created equal. Fresh out of the water, anchovy is actually a relatively mild fish—light, plump, briny, and pretty universally inoffensive. You can also get your hands on salt-packed varieties, which are minimally processed before packing—they’ve still got their bones and fins intact, which means that for most preparations, they need to be filleted and soaked in water or milk prior to use.
And then there are the anchovies you’re probably most familiar with, the ones that come in jars or cans and turn up in pizzas, pastas, sandwiches, and, um, my stomach. Those are the anchovies we’re talking about today—the kind that have been filleted, salt-cured, and stored in olive oil. It’s that curing process that produces the intensely salty flavor and pungent, fishy odor commonly associated with anchovies. It’s also what’s responsible for breaking down the myosin in the fish—one of the muscle proteins that hold its flesh together—making it exceedingly easy to mash up and dissolve.
Jar or can, cheap or expensive—which is the best and, more importantly, does it always matter?
Some of us love that bold flavor and readily eat anchovies whole (cough, me); others shy away from it and only pop that lid when a recipe tells them to.* But regardless of which type of anchovy person you are, chances are you’ve experienced that moment of grocery store paralysis, staring down those colorful battalions of tiny filleted fish. Jar or can, cheap or expensive—which is the best and, more importantly, does it always matter? We decided to find out.
*If you’re someone who cuts them out of recipes altogether…we’re done here.
We sampled eight common brands, several of which are available in both canned and jarred packages. We opted to test both types of packaging, landing us at a grand total of eleven different samples. Each contains just three ingredients: anchovies, salt, and olive oil.
Agostino Recca (Jar)
Agostino Recca (Can), Bellino (Jar), Cento (Can), Crown Prince (Jar), Crown Prince (Can), Merro (Jar), Ortiz, Polar, Roland (Jar), Roland (Can), The Criteria
They say you shouldn’t cook with a bottle of wine that you wouldn’t drink (we’ll grapple with the veracity of that statement some other time); we wondered if the same concept would apply to anchovies. To make our evaluation as thorough as possible, we had tasters try each package in three different iterations: plain, in a Caesar salad dressing, and in a puttanesca sauce. All ingredients were weighed out and prepared identically across all samples, with no variable in play aside from the anchovies themselves.
Tasters were asked to evaluate the overall quality of the two preparations on a scale of one to ten. For the whole, plain anchovies, we asked for scores along three different axes—overall quality, saltiness, and texture (more on this below). Crackers and water were provided to help combat palate fatigue. Nonetheless—and I say this as an anchovy enthusiast—this was easily the most challenging taste test we’ve attempted in my tenure at Serious Eats.
In that spirit, I would like to pause here and ask that you join me in a moment of silence in honor of the intrepid and loyal tasting troops who sacrificed their palates in service of the greater good. Because yes, for those of you doing the math, that’s 33 samples and 55 ratings.
Plain anchovy tasting results.
One thing that rapidly became clear is that our tasters had some vastly different feelings about anchovies. The good news?
If you’re going to use anchovies for cooking, it doesn’t matter what brand you use
If you’re going to use anchovies for cooking, it doesn’t matter what brand you use—our tasters couldn’t distinguish between the puttanesca sauces or the Caesar dressings from sample to sample.
Never, ever planning to eat an anchovy in any other way? Feel free to grab your hat and head out the door. If, on the other hand, you intend to keep your fillets intact, do read on. This is where things start to get interesting (and, admittedly, kind of confusing).
First off, there was limited consensus in our group as to what constitutes a great anchovy. Me? I look for a fillet that’s been, well, properly filleted, meaning not too many of those pesky little bones. Saltiness is inevitable, but if an anchovy has been excessively cured, it loses its meatiness and develops a metallic saltiness and grainy texture. And when it comes to flavor, I look for a clean brininess that walks the line of fishy territory, without taking the plunge into what one taster described as, “The bottom of a chum bucket.”
Well, it turns out that not everyone agrees. Like me, some preferred firm, meaty anchovies; others wanted something with a pronounced fishiness or a texture more likely to dissolve on the tongue. A number had never eaten anchovies on their own before, and all felt overwhelmed by the saltiness of the experience. It’s worth noting that we had two significant outliers in the group; had their results been eliminated, the top three products would have been even more distinguished from the rest of the pack, while the remaining scores would’ve remained roughly the same.
What we can conclude is that the storage vessel didn’t have a conclusive impact on quality—our winner and our clear loser were both stored in jars. Perhaps most interestingly, tasters did notice a significant distinction between the canned and jarred versions within a given brand. And while Ortiz, our winner, rings in at the highest cost per ounce ($4.75/oz. on Amazon), down the rest of the line, there are plenty of solid options to be had for significantly less.
Note: Prices reflect supermarket purchases in New York City and are not a standard cost issued by the manufacturer or distributor. Depending on volume and bulk orders, pricing varies drastically.
The Winner: Ortiz Jar (6.9/10)
Ortiz is certainly the most gourmet brand that we tried—every other sample cost us less than $2.00 per ounce. What sets it apart? Tasters applauded its “smooth texture,” describing it as “tender and meaty.” A number noted its relatively mild, clean flavor, a certain “pleasant sweetness” and “cheesy Parmesan flavor.”
If you have demand with these products. Please contact us anytime via email or skype, quantity as well as all questions you need.
HP/Viber/WhatsApp: (+84) 985867630
SAFIMEX JOINT STOCK COMPANY
Head Office: 216/20A Duong Ba Trac Street, Ward 2, District 8, HoChiMinh City, Vietnam.
Tel: (+84)-(28)-3636 2388 | Fax: (+84)-(28)-3636 2399