Anchovies, Blue Cheese, Fish Sauce, Shiitake Mushrooms and Worcestershire Sauce; these are a few of my favorite things. Besides being among my favorite things they are all fine examples of that elusive fifth taste Umami, the others being Sweet, Sour, Salty and Bitter. Practitioners of the Ayurveda recognize six flavors, but we can leave that discussion for another day
Most of us add umami to our dishes when we're cooking without giving it a much of a thought. Topping a plate of pasta with grated Parmesan or adding a splash of soy sauce or tamari to a stir fry becomes second nature as we became more skilled as cooks.
But what happens if we start thinking more critically as we cook? Most chefs taste as they cook and adjust seasonings to maximize the flavors of the finished dish. Do you taste as you cook or do you just follow the recipe? When you've followed the recipe and the dish isn't what you expected do you say "that would have been better if I'd added this or that" or does the recipe just hit the scrap heap? Enough with the damn questions!
Many times when I'm cooking and tasting, I find the dish is lacking. There's something missing; salt, pepper or perhaps an herb or spice. Often a dish has all the flavors, but it lacks a certain pop or wow factor. When a savory dish doesn't sing I find it's often lacking or missing the umami element.
I love virtually all things Umami. Often the Umami is a subtle ingredient; enhancing rather than dominating the dish other times they can be the focus. Anchovies are often the ingredient in a red sauce, like Puttanesca, that gives it the wow factor.
Ask most folks and they'll tell you that they hate anchovies and who can blame them. Most anchovies we're exposed to in the US are the ones that come in the small oval tins packed in soybean oil. Instead of smelling briny and of the sea, they smell fishy and tinny on their own. They might be fine or even essential cooked in a sauce or dressing, but they lack the subtlety of a good salt or olive oil packed anchovy. The tinned anchovies certainly can't or shouldn't stand front and center in a dishes like Caesar Salad or an Anchovy topped pizza where they're not cooked or just quickly cooked. But those folks that claim to not like anchovies will eat them up when they're the umami in a dish.
The problem with salt packed anchovies the that they usually come packed in a commercial sized 700 gram tin or about one and a half pounds of salty goodness. Unfortunately that's more than I can comfortably use in six months or a year, so most of the time I use the ubiquitous 2 ounce oval tins are always present in my pantry for sauces and the like. I like the Roland or Star brands of tinned anchovies. If you're lucky enough to have a good upscale market in your area they may sell salt packed anchovies in repackaged in smaller amounts.
Most of my friends will tell you that I'm anything but subtle. So it shouldn't surprise you that when it comes to using anchovies I also often lack subtlety. Once or twice a year I get a craving for this dish that was first served to me by a former neighbor. Over the years I've adapted it to my own tastes. It's basically Bagna Càuda, a sort of Italian fondue for vegetables, painted on bread and topped with cheese.
Bagna Càuda Bread
Put a couple of tablespoons of the olive oil in a small skillet and heat up over medium heat. Add the anchovies and cook until they dissolve. Add the garlic and cook until the garlic is fragrant.
Remove from heat and stir in the rest of the olive oil. Paint the olive oil, garlic and anchovy mix on the inside faces of the bread and set on a baking sheet.
Sprinkle the cheese over the top of the bread.
Cook for 10 to 15 minutes until the house smells heavenly or it drives out the whimps!
Garnish the bread with the minced parsley and cut the bread on the diagonal into easily held and eatable slices.
Serve this up with a tossed salad to make a fine lunch while watching a football or basketball game. I like a light red like a Dolcetto with this. It would also go well with a dry rose or a medium bodied un-oaked white like an Oregon Pinot Gris. Tannic reds or oaky white wines will clash with the anchovies.
Ask most folks and they'll tell you that they hate anchovies and who can blame them. Most anchovies we're exposed to in the US are the ones that come in the small oval tins packed in soybean oil. Instead of smelling briny and of the sea, they smell fishy and tinny on their own. They might be fine or even essential cooked in a sauce or dressing, but they lack the subtlety of a good salt or olive oil packed anchovy. The tinned anchovies certainly can't or shouldn't stand front and center in a dishes like Caesar Salad or an Anchovy topped pizza where they're not cooked or just quickly cooked. But those folks that claim to not like anchovies will eat them up when they're the umami in a dish.
The problem with salt packed anchovies the that they usually come packed in a commercial sized 700 gram tin or about one and a half pounds of salty goodness. Unfortunately that's more than I can comfortably use in six months or a year, so most of the time I use the ubiquitous 2 ounce oval tins are always present in my pantry for sauces and the like. I like the Roland or Star brands of tinned anchovies. If you're lucky enough to have a good upscale market in your area they may sell salt packed anchovies in repackaged in smaller amounts.
Most of my friends will tell you that I'm anything but subtle. So it shouldn't surprise you that when it comes to using anchovies I also often lack subtlety. Once or twice a year I get a craving for this dish that was first served to me by a former neighbor. Over the years I've adapted it to my own tastes. It's basically Bagna Càuda, a sort of Italian fondue for vegetables, painted on bread and topped with cheese.
Bagna Càuda Bread
- 2 small baguettes or 1 Italian loaf cut in half lengthwise
- 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
- 6 plump cloves of garlic finely minced or put through a garlic press
- 4 to 6 salted anchovy filets (rinsed and boned) or one 2-ounce tin of anchovies
- 1 cup or more of grated Parmesan or Romano cheese - You can use a good domestic version - please don't use the stuff in the green shaker!
- A few sprigs of flat parsley minced
Put a couple of tablespoons of the olive oil in a small skillet and heat up over medium heat. Add the anchovies and cook until they dissolve. Add the garlic and cook until the garlic is fragrant.
Remove from heat and stir in the rest of the olive oil. Paint the olive oil, garlic and anchovy mix on the inside faces of the bread and set on a baking sheet.
Sprinkle the cheese over the top of the bread.
Cook for 10 to 15 minutes until the house smells heavenly or it drives out the whimps!
Garnish the bread with the minced parsley and cut the bread on the diagonal into easily held and eatable slices.
Serve this up with a tossed salad to make a fine lunch while watching a football or basketball game. I like a light red like a Dolcetto with this. It would also go well with a dry rose or a medium bodied un-oaked white like an Oregon Pinot Gris. Tannic reds or oaky white wines will clash with the anchovies.
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okay - I'm an odd ball :-) I neither taste as I'm cooking nor do I follow recipes. Although I love recipes/cookbooks as starting points, there just that...
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