This is Fish Party, a new series about tinned fish, friendship, and dyke domesticity. I took a long break from this series as I settled into my move from Miami to Orlando, but we’re back baby! And today, we’re slurping on anchovies, and if that phrase sounds unappealing to you, then mayhaps this is not the series for you!
In the time since I last offered up a Fish Party missive, I got engaged, and if you think I haven’t been saying “I can’t wait to be your fishwife” to my fiancé on the reg then you would be very mistaken!!!!!!!!
We have dabbled in Fishwifery before in this series, including at the very beginning with my rundown of the trendy collab between Fishwife and Fly By Jing. The best part about tinned fish company Fishwife in my personal opinion is that Autostraddle A+ members get a sweet lil discount on their products via the A+ Marketplace. Hot girls eat tinned fish and support indie queer media.
The latest Fishwife tinned product to hit the market are the company’s new Cantabrian Anchovies, hand-packed in extra virgin olive oil, sold in three packs, and boxed in a slim green and yellow case with Fishwife’s signature look. And let me tell ya…these are NOT your average grocery store anchovies!!!!! As much as it pains me to find another product I’m used to scooping up in a Publix aisle for like $2, I’m already hooked. The anchovies also meet certain markers for sustainability that a lot of grocery store brands do not. And sometimes you gotta pay a bit more for better options in that regard.
If dabbling in Fishwife has been cost-prohibitive or otherwise daunting for you, my tip is to look up to see if there are any specialty markets or grocers in your area that sell Fishwife, which you can do on the company’s website. A lot of these third-party retailers sell loosies of the product so you’re not having to commit to a three-pack. (Have I mentioned you can also join A+ and get a discount? Rule of threes says I’m allowed to plug this one more time xo.)
This was actually how I came to the new anchovies. I was admittedly skeptical about the idea of special anchovies that taste better than the various inexpensive brands I’ve depended on through the years. So I picked up a single pack to try them out when I was in Louisville visiting my sister. Shoutout to Breeze Wine Bar x Canary Club for basically being my DREAM establishment as a combination speciality grocer and natural wine shop AND bar with a tinned fish menu…I’m about to pack up my life and move to Kentucky just to become a regular. (Fellow Orlando fishheads, you can get a lot of Fishwife products including the anchovies at Deli Desires!)
These anchovies have others beat in terms of texture (almost velvety, buttery, no chewiness or crunchiness at all) and taste (rich, salty but not overly so, layered). They’re more complex flavor-wise than I’m used to when it comes to anchovies, and I immediately regretted using them for a recipe rather than just eating them on a board with bread, butter, and sliced radishes, which is what I will be doing with at least two thirds of the three-pack I ordered using my A+ membership discount (THERE WE GO, THIRD TIME’S THE CHARM).
I also made a simple pasta with red sauce with some leftover sauce from the freezer that I originally made with Cento anchovies.
I did sample one anchovy on its own, which is when I was blown away by that distinctly smooth texture. I feel like I could swallow these whole like a cartoon cat. After the taste test, I made a modified version of the classic caesar salad recipe on Fishwife’s website, doubling the garlic for a slightly spicier dressing and swapping radicchio for the romaine so I could do a pink salad. I do wish I had soaked the radicchio to take out some of the bite, but next time!
The star of the show here was the anchovy breadcrumbs. They’re so simple and so delicious. You basically just meld Panko and chopped anchovy fillets in a pan with olive oil and then top them with lemon zest, and my god, they are the perfect crunchy-salty-zippy bite for on top of a salad or roasted veggies or pasta!
imo, all salads should be served with one loose anchovy on the side
Now, in case it was unclear, I was an anchovy fan long before these hit the market. My love of anchovies can basically be summarized by Rachel Green ordering a large anchovy pizza with chopped anchovies in the sauce (though she did this for vengeance, and I would do it merely for the taste). If you are anchovy skeptical, then these probably aren’t your thing, though I will say if you’re trying to baby-step your way into enjoying the taste, these would be a solid introduction, because the flavor, while robust, isn’t quite as in-your-face as some of the grocery store offerings are. And I think using them to make anchovy breadcrumbs could be a great way to dabble, too, as I know sometimes it’s a textural issue people have with chovies.
I definitely recommend reserving your Fishwife anchovies for recipes in which they are prominently featured (or to just eat them on their own). The cost makes it a little too extravagant to use them in things like red sauces or soup bases, but the more they’re blended into something with a lot of other flavors, the less they get to shine, too, and these are chovies that dazzle, so let them. In general, I recommend to folks wanting to start a tinned fish pantry collection to do a mix of grocery store offerings and pricier trendy options. The sauce for the pasta I served alongside this salad had been made with Cento anchovies, for example.
My next anchovy journey will be an exciting experiment where I try to make anchovy-flavored potato chips that I anticipate dipping in something creamy and garlicky just to lean into as much smelliness as possible. Stay tuned!
This is Fish Party, a new series about tinned fish, friendship, and dyke domesticity. Today, I’m serving up an ode to the niçoise salad.
Look, we all love cheese plates and charcuterie boards. There are few things hotter than building a cheese plate for someone you’re into. Thinly sliced meats artfully arranged among olives, almonds, and a balanced mixture of hard and soft cheeses? That’s sexy. Salads, meanwhile, do not really have a sexy reputation. (If you’re a Bravo Dyke like myself, then perhaps the words “sexy salad” bring you back to a very specific time in Real Housewives Of New York‘s saga and now you are also thinking wait, didn’t Carole Radziwill run out of good summers like two summers ago? But I digress!) But salads are much better and more exciting than bland viral iterations suggest. And for something as artfully constructed, crowd-pleasing, and flavor-layered as a cheese plate, look no further than the niçoise, which I’m officially dubbing the salad of the summer. And yes, it’s sexy!!! We all know hot girls eat tinned fish, after all.
I mean, niçoise…even the word alone sounds hot, because French words always sound hot. Named for its origin city of Nice, France, the most essential components of a classic niçoise are tuna (or anchovies!), boiled eggs, and an assortment of vegetables. There are tons of ways to play with the basic equation for a niçoise, especially if you, like me, don’t care about following tradition. You can use raw or cooked vegetables or a combination. You can use canned or fresh tuna. You can sub tuna or anchovies for another tinned fish.
If you want to make a niçoise easier to serve or more on-the-go, you can serve it as a tossed salad, but if you’re going for that charcuterie-esque picture-perfect moment, a composed salad is the approach. A composed salad just means a salad where ingredients are arranged on a platter rather than mixed in together. And yes, it does make the salad logistically more complicated to serve in a dinner party setting, but it’s WORTH IT.
If you’re somewhat new to the niçoise, I recommend starting with a base recipe, like this Bon Appetit one and then building on it or experimenting from there. I’ve made tuna niçoise twice in the past few weeks. Here’s what went into each of them:
It’s a stressful summer for my girlfriend and I. Mainly because we’re moving soon, and that’s always stressful. But for other reasons, too. Work stuff, a lot of moving parts with both of us having to travel for various writing things, dog care logistics. You get it. It has been a nice summer, too, full of campfires and lakes and rivers and every body of water you can imagine, really. And we’ve seen so many friends, made some new ones, too.
But there hasn’t been a lot of time for date nights, especially easy, quiet, but still romantic ones at home. And I’m still new enough to living in Florida that the blurry lines between seasons confuse me. How do you celebrate summer when it feels like summer 75% of the year and also when summer here actually means a ton of rain and soaring temperatures, so the kinds of summer activities I’m used to from up north aren’t always logistically possible?
Well, I built an entire day around eating tuna niçoise one weekend, and it accomplished two things at once: It felt like a true summer day and a hot date night all at once.
AND I DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO LEAVE MY HOME.
Okay, to be fair, I have a big outdoor pool with a view of the bay in my building, so that does give me an advantage when celebrating summer without leaving my home, but anyway! Tuna niçoise, for me, conjures images of lounging on pool towels, pulling slick wine bottles by their necks out of ice buckets, applying sunscreen to someone’s bare back. It’s so simple (and cheap!) to make, and yet it feels like something one might eat poolside at an Italian villa, accompanied by a crisp rosé or something spritzy. Yes, I know the salad is French! I’m just telling you how it makes me feel. I’m talking real Call Me By Your Name hours, okay?
So we spent the day at the pool with books and drinks and tumblers of cold water that went warm fast in the Florida sun. We reapplied sunscreen, often. We barely read the books we brought because we kept setting them down to talk to each other.
After a full day in the sun, I rarely like to make anything too complicated for dinner. Our go-tos after beach days and extra-long pool days are usually ordering in pizza or Greek or Cuban food. Or I make something simple like a charcuterie board or something with tinned fish. On this particular day, I’d been planning the picture-perfect tuna niçoise in my head for hours. I knew it would technically take time — things that involve this much chopping and arranging usually deceptively do even when there’s very minimal cook-time — but it would be easy work. I made spritzes and had my girlfriend put on a playlist called “French café” because, even though I was still feeling more Italian villa than a French vibe, I wanted to lean into the niçoise.
Here’s what’s going on in this salad.
I started with a base of romaine leaves. I like to use leaves from closer to the center of the head so that they’re a bit smaller and crunchier pieces. I spread those on the bottom of a large plate, which is about all you need in terms of serving platter if making a niçoise for just two.
I boiled baby potatoes in water for about 15 minutes, skins on. I like to try to buy the smallest baby potatoes I can find so that they’re truly bite-sized (and fit on the plate). After the 15 minutes, I plopped them in a bowl of ice water to cool. Then I drained them and tossed them with salt and fresh dill.
I medium-boiled a few eggs in the same pot of water I did the potatoes in and then also blanched some green beans. I like to get the very thin, pre-snipped green beans that come in a bag at Publix (sometimes they’re just labeled “French beans”).
I also quick-pickled some red onions.
The dressing I make is an expansion of the Bon Appetit dressing used in that aforementioned base niçoise recipe. In addition to the base of olive oil, lemon juice, dijon, and honey, I also add finely grated ginger for a little kick and have also experimented with adding hot honey for an even bigger kick (highly recommend! a niçoise is not at all known for spice, but I’m always injecting spice into things).
Then it’s just a matter of chopping and arranging! In addition to those cooked elements above, I did chopped cherry tomatoes (the multicolor ones are my preference!), chopped cucumber, and pickled asparagus that I did not make myself! It just came from a jar! Grocery store-bought jarred pickled things are my secret weapon for a niçoise.
And then, the star. The tuna herself. Unsurprisingly given my proclivity for tinned and jarred fish, I went with a store-bought jarred option rather than fresh tuna. I used the Tonnino olive oil-packed tuna fillets and added some of the oil from the jar into my dressing for a little extra fishiness. Some people pre-dress the salad but I like to leave it undressed and have a little pourable dish (in this case, I used a creamer) of dressing next to the serving plate so that people can dress their own plates.
And there you have it! A plateful of veggies and fish and eggs that is very photogenic and the perfect ending to an all-day pool day where you forget about work and moving stress for just a little bit and cook yourself in the sun. We had a natural white wine served in coupe glasses and lit a candle to really ramp up the date night vibes. Afterward, we watched two of the six Thin Man movies.
I’ll keep this one short, because I’m writing it from my unwinding trip in the Mississippi woods with my girlfriend and our friend who we always have the loveliest and food-filled times with (seriously, I think half of all the best meals I’ve had in the past couple years were with this friend). On Tuesday, we dragged plastic adirondack chairs into the river outside the cabin our friend rented and sunk their legs into the rocky river floor. We sat in the river on those chairs for hours, watching the way sunlight danced on a tree’s limbs, always on high alert for a sighting of the large blue heron that sometimes graces the river with her presence. We took a break from the river for lunch: tiny sandwiches arranged on a wood board and potato chips with clam dip and, for a sweet finish, spiced peaches. Then we went back to the river.
At the end of all of it, I made a niçoise.
It was more or less the same as the one from before, with a few additions and changes. There was no fresh dill at the grocery store we stopped at on the way to the cabin, so I dressed the potatoes with parsley and salt instead. In addition to pickled asparagus, I found pickled okra. I forgot to buy vinegar, so our red onions were raw — bitier and crunchier and still good, just different. I still went with Tonnino for the tuna but this time tried the jalapeño variation (again, I’m always looking for heat). A niçoise fit for three hungry river rats couldn’t possibly fit on one plate, so I broke it up and plated most of the components on a wood board and the potatoes, eggs, and green beans on the nicest plate I could find in the mishmash of dishes at the cabin. In place of a creamer, I found a small pourable measuring cup buried in a cabinet for the dressing. The dogs put on their cutest begging faces to ask for tuna, and we threw them cucumber slices, and they seemed happy enough with the compromise. We opened a bottle of white, and it warmed quickly, because even though we’re many hours north of Miami, it’s hot everywhere right now. But the river is a cool escape. And so is a crunchy, fresh bite off a niçoise platter.
This is Fish Party, a new series about tinned fish, friendship, and dyke domesticity. This week, I’m looking at the dill and lemon octopus from women-owned tinned fish company Tiny Fish Co. To read a little more about the origins of Fish Party as well as a review of the Fishwife x Fly By Jing chili crisp/tinned salmon collab, check out the first piece in the series.
I am very bad at getting dinner on the table at a reasonable hour. This has to do with growing up in a family that, on average, ate later than most of my friends did, and it has to do with my tendency to choose dinners with a lot of steps, a lot of ingredients, things that can’t so easily be whipped up. I like it that way. Working in the kitchen is a huge stress reliever for me. It’s a way to calm my brain and also let go. In the kitchen, I have much fewer rules with myself than I do in any other aspect of my life. I let myself experiment and play, even invite a little chaos in. My girlfriend often quietly tidies up my messes behind me while I work and make more and more messes, an act of love I always notice even if I forget to thank her for it.
I’ll finally go to set the table at the end of all my cooking and realize it’s 8, 9, 10 p.m. Even in the middle of summer, it’s often dark by the time we eat. It’s not a problem; we both prefer it to eating early. But when I transitioned from being a full-time freelancer to having this more structured, more conventional full-time editing job here at Autostraddle, it got worse. Dinners started pushing 11 p.m. Some nights, I’ve been too tired to cook at all. Which is fine! No one has to cook every night. But it’s difficult for me to accept that. I get so much out of making dinner, even on the nights when it takes a lot out of me. It feels worth it. To make something with my hands and then place it on our table. Even if what I made is simple. Tinned fish has been a godsend on this front — easy, adaptable, delicious, and full of all the flavors I love.
Tinned fish is trendy, but I came to it in this organic way, drawn to this food that can be eaten on its own or added to something easily. It’s ready-to-go. It’s convenient, and yet, it still tastes like a treat.
Sometimes, it gets to be late at night, and I still want to make dinner. Sometimes, you accidentally eat dinner at midnight, and that’s okay! It’s fine! It doesn’t have to feel like a failure. In fact, it can even be special. It can even be hot.
Recently, I had one of those nights where I knew that if I wanted to make dinner myself instead of ordering something for us, then dinner was probably going to happen at midnight. That’s extra late, even by our standards, but I just had in my head that I wanted to make something. Something that, even if it was just thrown together, would be different than standard the go-to last-minute meals in my rotation. (The most frequent of these is Shin Ramyun.)
So I made an octopus salad.
I’d recently been gifted the latest product from Tiny Fish, a women-owned tinned fish company. It’s an octopus packed in sunflower oil, clarified butter, dill weed, and lemon. The octopus is just the perfect level of chewy and tastes so fresh. The lemon brightens it up, while the clarified butter adds a surprising layer of rich fatty flavor.
I turned the tinned octopus into a late-night salad, and suddenly it didn’t feel so bad to be eating close to midnight. It felt a little romantic, a little spontaneous. Like my girlfriend and I had been whisked away to some quaint city in Europe and stumbled into an all-night cafe for a late-night treat. I’m not even a salad person!!! But tinned fish salad has been a gamechanger. Paired with a very dry and cold white wine, the views of Miami from our balcony, and hunks of crusty bread to soak up the remaining salad dressing when we’d finished the bowl.
The “recipe” for the salad is super simple and no-cook. Get a big bowl and dump the entire can of octopus in it. Add a peppery green as your salad base. I used arugula this time, but watercress would also be delicious. Now, add more of what the octopus is basically already marinated in. I did about half a tablespoon of olive oil, the juice of half a lemon, and a handful of chopped fresh dill. Mix it all up and that’s it! You have a citrusy, peppery, bright, sexy tinned octopus salad. Yes, sexy! It really was a sexy salad! (For all you Bravo Dykes who understand that reference, you’re welcome and I’m sorry.)
The salad was a quick trick, but if you wanted to incorporate this tinned octopus into a meal that would take a little more but still not too much time to put together, you could mix it in with some orzo and lemon juice.
Look, it’s fine if you can’t get dinner on the table before 10 p.m. And a thrown-together salad can be just as special as a more over-the-top recipe. A few ingredients can go along way, and a tinned fish like this can pack all the salt, fat, and acid (no heat required!) you need for a flavorful, memorable meal.
As I’ve mentioned many times on the site by now, in the fall of 2021, I moved to a new city with my partner where I knew basically no one and where my partner knew less than a handful of people. When we picked Miami as our first place to really build a home together, we assumed we’d meet people through the arts, writing, and queer communities that exist here.
Then, of course, we couldn’t do that. It turns out it’s difficult to make new friends when you can’t really socialize outside of your home.
But gradually we’ve finally been able to let folks into our home. I love hosting. I love feeding my friends. And as we’ve begun to socialize more, make new connections, and reunite with long-distance pals, a new ritual has organically emerged on the little balcony where my girlfriend and I spent so many months just the two of us. I call them Fish Parties, originally dubbed by my friend Becca who, as a Pisces, is particularly qualified to dub such a thing. At its surface, Fish Party is just an intimate gathering of some of my friends at my place, featuring seafood (mainly tinned fish!), natural wine, local beers, and citrusy cocktails. But Fish Parties are about more than what we consume! Fish Parties are friendship!!!!
The first Fish Party was born of Becca’s first time visiting me in years. I wanted to do a casual cocktail hour with a bunch of dips and small plates all built around tinned fish around sunset. And I wanted to merge old friends with new ones, introducing Becca to one of the couples we’ve become close with down here in Miami. Fish Party 1 was a hit, and I repeated it again a few weeks later. By then, Becca was gone again, but I took pictures of what I’d be serving this time and sent them to her, because the spirit of Fish Party is such that you can absolutely be a part of it from a distance.
So welcome to the Fish Party column. Sure, it’ll be about reviewing various tinned fish products and providing some loose recipes/guides for how to best enjoy them (I’m thinking occasional drink pairings, too?!). But it will also be about more than that, about friendship, my relationship, finding small joys in life, building a new life in a new place, lesbian domesticity, and social rituals.
When two of my favorite trendy Instagram snack brands — tinned fish purveyor Fishwife and chili crisp king Fly By Jing — posted that they would be teaming up for a collab, I thought I was being pranked. Or, since we’re talking fish here, I suppose I felt baited.
I was not alone. Again, these are verrrrryyyy trendy brands. For a while, it felt like every other ad in my Instagram story feed was of Fly By Jing’s tingly chili crisp glopping onto a fried egg or an ice cream cone (the brand is very adamant that its sauces go on everything). And Fishwife is oft-mentioned in the whole “tinned fish is Hot Girl Food” thing — which, yes, if you didn’t know is a thing. And as a hot girl who eats tinned fish, I very much identify with the joke.
If I’m being honest, I actually tend to prefer grocery brands of chili crisp like Lao Gan Ma, but the Fly By Jing Zhong sauce is a staple in our pantry, and I could absolutely eat it by the spoonful. It’s the first time I’ve ever considered signing up for a subscription for a sauce.
If you want to read a quick primer on tinned fish in general, check out the first installation of my It’s Time To Get Into snacking series, which focuses on canned and tinned fish that are available in grocery stores.
Okay, so the collab. Specifically, the product is Fishwife’s canned smoked salmon brined in Fly By Jing’s Sichuan Chili Crisp as well as olive oil, sea salt, garlic salt, and brown sugar. The taste? SALTY. In the best way. There’s just enough of that numbing, savory spice lended by the chili crisp to meld the overall flavor into something balanced but deep, standing on its own but also ripe to combine with other flavors. The first round sold out, but it’s available again for pre-order.
I want to say a $40+ price tag (the sticker price is $39, but it does not include shipping) for three standard-sized cans of salmon is not worth it, but fish fam………..it’s absolutely worth it.
Here’s the thing: As with a lot of products and goods, the better and more ethical the sourcing, the more the price tends to go up. You can read more about Fishwife’s approach to sourcing its fish in Vogue‘s profile of the company, which touches on the relationships the founders have built with independent fisherman.
I personally am a firm believer that the best approach to keeping a tinned fish collection in your pantry is to mix-and-match more affordable grocery store brands with some offerings from the more stylish and pricey smaller companies. I often use the former for dishes where the fish might not be the leading star or recipes that require using more than one can — things like dips, big salads for dinner parties, etc. I also like those grocery store brands for when I’m just having a quick tinned fish snack at my desk. And then I tend to use the latter for more ~special occasions~ like to add a pop of fishy flavor to a decadent cheese plate or in a colorful rice bowl or almost as a banchan served alongside something hearty like grilled meat or hot pot.
Fishwife x Fly By Jing is a perfect example of a special occasion tinned fish. It’s the perfect example of a food that embodies everything Fish Parties are about. I knew I wasn’t going to try Fishwife x Fly By Jing for the first time by myself. I wanted to try it with friends.
Fishwife x Fly By Jing is meant to be eaten on the weekend, with a glass of wine or a cold beer or an extra bubbly seltzer, watching the sun set or a sheet of rain clouds roll in. I’ll tell you exactly how I ate Fishwife x Fly By Jing for the first time: at a round table with my girlfriend and two new friends, surrounded by more food, a bottle of rosé just opened. It was — and I cannot stress this enough — the perfect weekend treat.
If you do decide to order some Fishwife x Fly By Jing, I don’t think you should be too precious about it. You don’t have to plan the perfect dish or the perfect moment to eat it. Fish Parties sound extravagant, but they’re really not. I enjoy throwing them together, and I don’t overthink them. At Fish Parties, the food is served basically indoor picnic-style. It’s not a formal sit-down dinner. I load up our table with a bunch of bowls and platters of food, condiments, side dishes, etc., and we just eat casually — sometimes not even at the table but on the couch so we can look out at the ocean and be closer to the record player for when it’s time to flip the record.
Fishwife x Fly By Jing is a special treat, but any day can be special, especially when the people you’re with are making you laugh between mouthfuls of fish.
Here are the three ways I’ve eaten my Fishwife x Fly By Jing. As I’m sure you’ll come to realize as this column progresses, my approach to “recipes” is pretty loosey goosey, not structured like formal recipes but rather more like your aunty telling you how she makes something, you know? But I’m happy to answer any clarifying questions in the comments!
This one’s real easy. Get some cukes (I like the buy the mini kind), roughly chop them into large pieces, add them to a bowl, and then use a wooden spoon or potato masher to smash them and release some of their juices. Pop the tab open on a Fishwife x Fly By Jing can and dump the whole thing in. Make sure you really get all that oil in there. You could, honestly, leave it at that if you want. But I also added a splash of rice vinegar, chopped scallion, and more chili crisp. Minced garlic and chopped fresh chilies would also be a good addition if you want a little more bite.
While sushi cooked in my Instant Pot, I whipped up some easy, flavor-packed rice bowl toppings. I shredded some carrots and put them in a small bowl with some rice vinegar, warm water, and salt. That went in the fridge.
Then I boiled water, threw in basically an entire bag of spinach, and removed the spinach after only about 15 seconds and put it in an ice bath. I drained the spinach, squeezing out the excess water as much as possible, and roughly chopped it before adding it to a bowl with some sesame chili oil, toasted sesame seeds, chopped garlic, and salt. That went in the fridge, too.
I made a couple jammy eggs (boil water with some salt in it, drop in eggs, set a timer for six minutes and thirty seconds, take them out and immediately put them in an ice bath).
I made some smashed cukes using essentially the same recipe above minus the fish.
Once the rice was done, I sprinkled some Barnacle Foods furikake on it. Then I added the jammy eggs sliced in half, the pickled shredded carrots, the spinach, and the cukes. In the middle, I put an entire can of Fishwife x Fly By Jing. Then I added more chili crisp, chopped scallions, and a drizzle of gochujang. Lots of flavors, but the fish does not get lost, because like I said: It stands on its own!!!
Self-explanatory!!!!! But here’s a tip: Once you’ve finish, grab a hunk of bread and sop up that oil left behind in the bottom of the can.
So listen, no, this is not going to be an everyday tinned fish. Or even an every week tinned fish. But it’s absolutely an ideal weekend treat. A special little salty burst best enjoyed in close proximity to a body of water. It’s great for a Fish Party, which is really just a way of saying Fishwife x Fly By Jing is meant to be shared with someone you care about. 🐟🌶💗