How I got hooked on tinned fish

Big fish, as any fisherman can attest, get the attention. But little fish deserve the love.

Ask an ecologist (or connoisseur), and they’ll tell you that sardines, herring, anchovies and their pelagic brethren are the heroes and delicacies of the ocean.

Not that I don’t appreciate a silky slice of nigiri or hefty tuna sub. My childhood memories of albacore on a slab of crusty Italian bread (with a cream soda, please) remain the best. But I eventually concluded the collateral damage was too high. Rendering these fish – predators equivalent to wolves or tigers on land – into a can of commodity protein didn’t sit well with me.

So it’s been good to see that small fish, long celebrated in Europe, are finally having a moment in the United States, with chefs elevating them from their traditional tins into haute cuisine. These small, nutrient-packed species serve as the foundation of the ocean’s food web and school by the billions in roiling balls near the sea’s surface. When we catch them responsibly, and eat them directly, it’s far better for ecosystems – and us.

But could I become a tinned fish convert and get other skeptics to bite? I decided to throw a potluck tinned fish party with friends to find out. Our menu included pan-fried sardines with a peppery cilantro sauce and vanilla butter specked with anchovies on toast (stay with me, it works).

By the end, our taste buds had circumnavigated the globe, docking in ports sweet and salty and provinces in between. Most of us agreed there was little the little fish couldn’t do. So if you’re not into tinned fish yet, it’s time to give them a try. You may even get hooked.

The problem with

America’s seafood diet

Americans mainly eat three kinds of seafood. Salmon, tuna and shrimp account for more than half of the roughly 20 pounds of seafood consumed on average per American each year. “The others aren’t really close,” says Corbett Nash, of the Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood Watch program, which issues sustainability recommendations for wild and farmed seafood.

Generally, we’re told that seafood is good for us. It’s rich in omega-3 fatty acids, lean protein and packed with micronutrients such as vitamin D, B12, iron, zinc and phosphorus. It’s the protein at the heart of the Mediterranean diet, shown to help people enjoy longer and healthier lives.

But tuna, which are in steep decline, can accumulate toxins such as mercury and polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs). Overcrowded farms for shrimp and salmon have led to illicit antibiotics, overfishing for feed and, in the case of shrimp, the loss of vast areas of mangroves.

Yes, you can search for well-managed wild and farmed sources. Much of what reaches our plates, though, lands on Seafood Watch’s “red list” for practices such as illegal and unsustainable fishing and aquaculture, Nash says. The overreliance on three types of seafood is bad for all concerned.

Yet we can have our fruits de mer and a healthy ocean, too, by turning to what biologists call forage fish.

Tinned fish gets a new look

Forage fish like sardines and anchovies are well known, but dozens of others – capelin, herring, mackerel, menhaden, smelts – fall into this category, too. They feed on tiny plants and animals, and in turn, can nourish everything from seabirds to blue whales to humans.

In Europe, some of these have been delicacies for centuries. A thriving industry developed along the Mediterranean and North Atlantic shores in the 1800s. Small producers refined the art of conservas, preserving the likes of Cantabrian anchovies and octopus in olive oil.

But America’s history with fish in tins has been less delectable. Canned fish landed on U.S. grocery shelves and military bases amid rationing during World War II. These products prioritized cheap calories and long shelf lives, not taste or texture. Their unsavory reputation outlasted the war. Since then, generations of Americans have been raised on water tuna fish, which some millennials compare to cat food, or sardines in fishy tomato sauce.

That’s starting to change, says Anna Hezel, author of “Tin to Table,” a book of more than 50 tinned fish recipes and the inspiration for my dinner party. Tinned fish has been getting more favorable attention, thanks in part to colorful art deco packaging that’s perfect for social media, as well as the influence of new entrants, such as Fishwife, that have joined European stalwarts.

Many of the new options on U.S. shelves are prepared by hand, using high-quality seafood and recipes perfected over centuries. Connoisseurs even seek out specific “vintages.”

“So much thought and tradition has been put into it that,” Hezel says, “it can be almost like eating something that’s been prepared for you at a restaurant.”

With that in mind, I plotted out my potluck. We could make everything from appetizers to dessert. The only rule was a fish in every dish. I sent out invitations, a copy of the cookbook and waited.

But what if you threw a tinned fish party and nobody came?

The tinned fish dinner party experiment

I needn’t have worried. Four friends and their families, including a sommelier, enthusiastically accepted my invitation, and our table was bursting with inventive dishes.

For appetizers, we snacked on deviled eggs topped with mussels escabeche, a tangy twist on the 1950s classic; baked clam dip (“smoky, salty and yes on chips,” said one attendee); and Caesar popcorn, salty anchovy-flecked puffs of corn that offered “all the goodness, none of the lettuce.” Vanilla anchovy butter on fresh bread proved a smooth and heavenly hit with no trace of fishiness, only a satisfying hit of umami.

The main courses included spicy sardines in crunchy, tangy Vietnamese banh mi sandwiches; pan-fried sardines drizzled with a salsa verde, a pungent mix of lemon, herbs and capers; and an anchovy-forward spaghetti con alici. Stellar.

To round it out, we sampled fish straight from the cans: salmon in chili, scorpio fish paté and lemon-caper pickled mussels, to name a few.

There were misfires. A can of squid in tomato sauce, stuffed with something I couldn’t translate from Portuguese, tasted like a muddy mess. A few other conservas were either too fishy or too mushy for my taste. There is perhaps too much of a good thing, as well. If every dish at your dinner party is tinned fish, it might be too much.

But the experience was transformative for Michael Sesko, 44, chief financial officer of a technology firm, who attended the party.

“You can go beyond just eating it out of a can,” Sesko said. “You can prepare real meals that actually taste delicious.” He now has tinned fish of all stripes in his pantry, especially to help feed his two young children. “It’s improved the quality of my life,” he said.

Tinned fish

for first timers

I asked Hezel about the easiest way to dip your toe in the world of tinned fish.

One way, she says, is going out on the town. “Every big city in the United States now seems to have wine bars where you can order mussels or sardines,” she said.

To go tinned fishing on your own, head to your grocery store, where new varieties are now stocked by many major outlets. Online shopping offers endless options, too.

If you’re looking for inspiration for what to make, the Washington Post has published recipes for near-effortless tinned fish meals. Or just open some cans and lay out the equivalent of a charcuterie board, with several varieties. You can also head to social media, where “tinned fish date night” has been trending on TikTok.

In my own house, little fish are now in regular rotation – sometimes for fancy affairs but also for a weeknight dinner or instant sandwich. My new favorite is mackerel: a flaky, meaty and complex fish that tastes better than even the most delicious subs of my childhood.

I’ll never go back to my old canned tuna again.

How to (tin) fish responsibly

Knowing which little fish are sustainably caught is hard, admits Nash, of Seafood Watch. But here are a few rules of thumb: Anything certified by the Marine Stewardship Council is a good bet, along with sustainability-focused brands such as Patagonia Provisions and WildPlanet. If you’re shopping by region, buy sardines caught in Japan or Morocco; anchovies caught in Chile, Morocco or Peru; or Pacific herring from Canada. If sardines or anchovies are caught in France, Portugal or Spain, use caution or avoid. Some of the region’s fisheries are considered red-rated.

For a deep dive, read Seafood Watch’s guide to sardine, anchovy and herring.