A Twist in the Tail by Christopher Beckman – Worth Its Salt

The anchovy is a divisive fish—people either love it or hate it, with little room for neutrality. Seneca, the Stoic philosopher, detested it, while Horace described it simply as “stinky.” In contrast, Christopher Beckman, a former horror film producer turned food historian, is a fervent advocate. His book, A Twist in the Tail, is a charming homage to this small but flavorful fish.

Beckman contends that the anchovy’s bad reputation overshadows its true taste. If you sneak some anchovies into an unsuspecting friend’s meal, they likely won’t notice but might find the dish more delicious. That’s because anchovies are rich in umami, the so-called “fifth taste” that adds depth and savoriness to food, complementing the primary tastes: sweet, sour, salty, and bitter. The secret lies in “free glutamates.” While most meats and vegetables contain about 100mg of free glutamates per 100g, cured meats and sun-dried tomatoes boast 300-700mg. Anchovies top the charts with a whopping 1,200mg, making them true umami powerhouses.

Ancient Romans were well aware of this, favoring garum, a fish sauce used to enhance the flavor of meats and fruits. Aulus Umbricius Scaurus, known as the “ketchup king of Campania,” became wealthy selling cheaply-made anchovy sauce as premium mackerel sauce, even building a luxurious home from his profits. Though garum fell out of favor with the Roman Empire’s decline, it can still be found in some select places today, like Puglia.

Beckman traces the evolution of taste, noting that in 1500 France, the quintessential dinner was a bland blancmange, a rice and chicken puree considered helpful for maintaining humoral balance. By 1600, as humoral theory lost ground, anchovy dishes gained popularity. However, the anchovy’s resurgence was curtailed in 1833 when France’s leading patissier, Antonin Carême, established the classic French “mother sauces”—bechamel, espagnole, veloute, and allemande—which relegated anchovies to minor roles in hors d’oeuvres.

While anchovies fell out of favor in France, they found popularity in 18th-century Britain, especially in ketchups. The term “ke-tchup” originally referred to fish sauce in Javanese and Hokkien. Anchovies were only removed from ketchup recipes in the 1850s, and Heinz introduced its sweeter, molasses-laden version, giving rise to the American ketchup we know today. The British-style anchovy ketchup, however, survives in Worcestershire sauce.

In Italy, the anchovy had a humble image. Antonio Latini’s 1690s cookbook branded its anchovy sauce as “sfacciatella,” or “little harlot,” suggesting that it paired well with almost anything. This notion persists in spaghetti alla puttanesca, a Neapolitan pasta dish appreciated by budget-conscious cooks looking for quick meals.

In America, the anchovy’s fortunes waned dramatically in the 1960s, partly due to TV chef Julia Child. Beckman criticizes her recipes as being heavy on butter and dairy, but he acknowledges that American tastes had already shifted. Postwar America embraced sweet and mild flavors found in foods like Campbell’s soup, Tang, and mac and cheese, making the bold taste of anchovies less appealing.

Beckman concludes his book with compelling reasons to include anchovies in your diet. They are rich in calcium, iron, niacin, and vitamin D, and they even help lower the risk of cardiovascular diseases. His endorsement might just win over a few new fans.

A Twist in the Tail: How the Humble Anchovy Flavoured Western Cuisine by Christopher Beckman is published by Hurst (£18.99).

Source: The Guardian