I’ve written about my love for anchovies before: I use the satisfyingly salty tinned fish to make salad dressings, dips, and pastas, and will happily eat them on their own as a snack. While many people discard the can and the remaining oil once they’re done with the fish, I like to save all the oil for another use: It’s wonderfully briny, and great for flavoring breadcrumbs, croutons, salad dressings, and more.

Below, you’ll find recipes for using up all that delicious anchovy oil—simply replace all or a portion of oil called for in the recipe with the same amount of anchovy oil to give your food a pleasant savory kick. While anchovy oil itself isn’t salty, it has a briny quality, so you may want to reduce the amount of salt called for in the recipes slightly or simply season your food to taste.

Anchovies aren’t shy, but that’s what makes them great. Wonderfully briny and particularly savory, these tiny fish pack potent flavor. They play a starring role in dishes like Caesar Salad, enriching the creamy dressing with a deep umami taste. In pantry-friendly recipes like Anchovy Pasta With Garlic Breadcrumbs, they blend seamlessly with other staples to become greater than the sum of their parts. Often, they’re relegated to the shadows: the secret ingredient that makes…well, most things taste better.

Anchovies and other tinned and jarred fish, as we know them, date back to 1795. In desperate need of shelf-stable foods to feed his armies, Napoléon Bonaparte offered a reward of 12,000 francs to anyone who could invent a new method of food preservation. As cookbook author Anna Hezel writes in Tin to Table, “Nicolas Appert rose to the challenge, and spent the next fourteen years figuring out how to preserve prepared foods by heating them inside glass jars, and sealing those jars against intruding microbes.”

But before they’re canned, jarred, or tinned, anchovies—a term that encompasses more than 140 species of fish—swim the ocean in large schools. While many commercially available fish are farmed, anchovies are primarily sourced from wild schools across the globe, from Peru to the Mediterranean. Fishermen use enormous nets to catch big bundles of these various species before processing them.

Where would this baked pasta be without its anchovy cream sauce? Nowhere.

Photograph by Laura Murray, food styling by Rebecca Jurkevich, prop styling by Sophie Strangio

Because of anchovies’ naturally high concentration of fat, which can oxidize and spoil if not addressed, it’s critical to start the curing process soon after they’re caught. Producers must dispatch and clean the anchovies before layering them with salt, where they’ll rest for up to 12 months. Curing breaks down some of the fish’s proteins, tenderizing the fillets in the process.

At this stage, the anchovies can be packaged with the salt they were cured in, or they can be rinsed, deboned, filleted, packed into tins or jars, and covered in oil. We prefer anchovies packed in 100% extra-virgin olive oil, but any culinary oil can be used for this process.

Many people think of cured anchovies as a shelf-stable product. But, while the salt curing kills harmful bacteria, it doesn’t eliminate all microbial activity. This is all to say: Refrigerate your anchovies, people. And as you use the oil from the tin or jar, top off the container with more oil so the fish remain completely submerged until you’ve made your way through each and every one.

How we picked the products

A myriad of anchovy tins and jars line grocery store shelves these days, but which brand of anchovies is the best? We sampled nine brands of this pantry power player to find our favorites.

With summer here, soups and stews give way to spritzes, crisp salads, and meals made to be eaten outdoors under the sun. And while I, like most people, love a classic Caesar, the warmer months push me toward making something even brighter—a Caesar salad that leans on tangy and herbaceous Levantine staples without sacrificing the savory backbone we all love about the original. Anchovies and Worcestershire sauce? Non-negotiables, in my book. Especially the anchovies.

But instead of Parmesan in the dressing and tossed with the lettuce, there’s creamy feta, and instead of croutons, golden za’atar breadcrumbs crisped in olive oil step in. 

Za’atar Belongs on Your Table—and in This Salad

In the Levant—particularly in Palestinian homes—za’atar isn’t just a pantry staple. It’s a daily ritual. Nearly every household keeps a small dish of it on the table alongside a bowl of olive oil, ready for breakfast, dinner, or a midday snack. A piece of warm pita takes a dip into the bold olive oil, then into the za’atar, where the herb mix clings to the surface. Nothing captures the spirit of the Levantine table more than that bite.

Za’atar refers both to a wild herb (similar in flavor to a mixture of oregano and thyme) and to the spice blend made from its dried leaves, typically mixed with toasted sesame seeds, sumac, and salt. Growing up in Jordan, I remember the warped, large baking sheets spotted with black burn marks, lined with fresh local za’atar leaves drying in the sun, tended to by my grandmother. Tangy, nutty, and deeply aromatic, it holds particular cultural weight in Levantine cooking.

But once za’atar landed on spice shelves outside the region, its role shifted. It started showing up on grilled chicken, in salad dressings, even on popcorn. I’ll admit, I was apprehensive about these new uses at first, wanting to preserve the traditional, unadorned use I grew up with. But I’ve come to see it differently. Za’atar is too flavorful to be boxed in. It’s also so versatile that it only makes sense to get creative with it. In this case, za’atar enhances a basic Caesar with its robust herbaceousness and the lemony pop of sumac. And while my grandmother probably wouldn’t approve of the liberties I’m taking with it here, we can go ahead and just tack that onto the long, loving list of things she disapproves of when it comes to me.

The Breadcrumbs

Honestly, I’ve never liked croutons all that much—they go stale too quickly, and chomping on them feels like a chore. So I nixed them in most dishes in favor of toasted breadcrumbs a long time ago. In this salad, the za’atar breadcrumbs provide a consistent crunch throughout, without the agonizing brick-like bite. 

The za’atar breadcrumbs come together easily. Butter melts in a skillet until foamy, then in goes the grated garlic, followed by the plain breadcrumbs, which toast and brown, soaking up the flavors in the pan. Just as they turn golden, generous spoonfuls of za’atar are stirred in, along with fragrant lemon zest, and a pinch of salt. The crumbs are nutty from the sesame seeds, citrusy from the zest, and garlicky enough to make you want to scatter them over every salad and roasted vegetable in sight.

The Creamy Feta-Za’atar Dressing

The dressing for this salad doesn’t stray too far from Caesar roots—it just pulls them in a different direction. Anchovies and Worcestershire sauce keep the umami base intact. Feta, instead of Parmesan, brings creaminess with a briny edge that stands up beautifully to the assertive, nutty, and robust za’atar. A generous squeeze of lemon and a splash of vinegar add bracing acidity, mellowed by the rich labneh.

Labneh—pronounced labaneh in my Palestinian-Jordanian dialect—is probably my number one kitchen staple. There’s always a tub in my fridge. My only complaint? I can’t find the giant containers here in the US like the ones I’d buy in Jordan. The little tubs barely last me a couple of meals. Back home, labneh is part of the everyday breakfast spread: paired with za’atar, good, bitter olive oil, green olives, pita, and salted cucumbers and tomatoes. In this dressing, it takes the place of the egg yolk, lending the same creamy, emulsified body but with a tangier flavor.

The dressing is finished with a stream of fruity olive oil for added, assertive richness. But when blending olive oil into dressings like this, there’s always a risk: Overprocessing can bring out a noticeable bitterness. That happens because olive oil is rich in polyphenols, which are antioxidant compounds that can break down and react when aggressively blended, especially at high speeds or for too long. But in this case, the brief blending time eliminates this potential added bitterness.

I like to use a strongly flavored olive oil for this dressing. The generous acidity from the feta, lemon juice, and vinegar balance out the natural bitterness in the olive oil, adding structure and depth that’s mellowed out by the creamy labneh. This dressing is so snappy and full of character that if you’re anything like me, you’ll be eating it by the spoonful before it even touches the lettuce.

The Final Toss

The beauty of this salad is in its contrasts: crisp romaine, creamy dressing, and briny pops of anchovy, feta, and lemon, all topped with rich, toasty, crunchy za’atar breadcrumbs. It delivers depth and brightness in equal measure. I unapologetically prefer a very well-dressed Caesar salad; the romaine lettuce is crisp enough to handle it, and I want to taste the dressing in every bite. If you happen to be more reserved than I am, feel free to use less dressing and save the rest for another time. (This dressing also works well as a topping for roasted vegetables.) After dressing the lettuce leaves, mound them loosely in a large bowl, and finish with a flurry of grated feta and a generous handful of breadcrumbs. This is a louder, punchier, and more pronounced Caesar. Don’t be surprised if it becomes your go-to well past summer.

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For the Za’atar Breadcrumbs:

• 2 tablespoons (28 g) butter

• 1/2 cup (70 g) plain dried breadcrumbs (see notes)

• 1 teaspoon finely grated garlic (about 2 medium cloves)

• 3 tablespoons (21 g) za’atar (see notes)

• 2 teaspoons lemon zest from 1 whole lemon

• 1/2 teaspoon Diamond Crystal kosher salt; for table salt, use half as much by volume 

For the Dressing:

• 1/2 cup (120 ml) labneh (see notes)

• 3 ounces feta cheese, crumbled (about 1/2 cup)

• 2 tablespoons (30 ml) fresh lemon juice from 1 whole lemon

• 2 tablespoons (14 g) za’atar (see notes)

• 1 tablespoon (15 ml) white wine vinegar

• 1 tablespoon (15 ml) Worcestershire sauce

• 1 tablespoon (15 ml) Dijon mustard

• 4 oil-packed anchovy fillets

• 2 large cloves garlic, minced (about 2 teaspoons)

• 1 teaspoon Diamond Crystal kosher salt; for table salt, use half as much by volume salt 

• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

• 1/4 cup (60 ml) extra-virgin olive oil

For the Salad:

• 4 romaine hearts (about 6 1/2 ounces, 184 g each), trimmed, outer wilted leaves removed, large leaves torn into bite-sized pieces, smaller leaves left intact, washed and carefully dried

• 2 ounces feta cheese, blotted dry, and grated on small holes of a box grater or on a rasp grater, such as a Microplane (about 1/3 cup)

1. For the Breadcrumbs: In a medium skillet, melt butter over medium-low heat. Add grated garlic and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add breadcrumbs and toss to coat. Cook, stirring often, especially towards the end, until breadcrumbs are golden brown, 3 to 5 minutes. Off heat, stir in za’atar, lemon zest, and salt. Transfer to a small bowl and let cool completely before serving or storing in an airtight container until ready to use.

2. For the Dressing: In a blender, process labneh, feta, lemon juice, vinegar, Worcestershire, mustard, anchovies, garlic, salt, and pepper on until puréed, about 30 seconds. With blender running, slowly add oil and blend until emulsified.

3. To Assemble Salad: In a large bowl, toss lettuce with prepared dressing. Once lettuce is coated, add half of grated cheese and half of reserved breadcrumbs and toss again to incorporate. Transfer to a salad bowl and sprinkle with remaining cheese and breadcrumbs. Serve.

Special Equipment

Medium skillet, blender, box grater or rasp grater, such as a Microplane

Notes

You can use store-bought breadcrumbs or make your own breadcrumbs, but omit any salt in the homemade breadcrumbs recipe to avoid over-seasoning.

You can find za’atar at Middle Eastern grocery stores, spice shops, and many well-stocked supermarkets. It’s also widely available online. Making your own za’atar is also a great option.

Labneh is a thick, tangy strained yogurt popular in Middle Eastern cuisine. You can find it in the refrigerated section of Middle Eastern and Mediterranean grocery stores, as well as some well-stocked supermarkets, usually near the specialty cheeses or yogurt. You can also easily make labneh at home. 

I like tossing the romaine leaves with all the dressing for even coverage, but feel free to use less if you prefer a lighter touch.

All components of the feta-za’atar Caesar salad can be doubled. 

Make-Ahead and Storage

Once completely cooled, the breadcrumbs can be transferred to an airtight container and refrigerated for up to 3 days. The breadcrumbs can be frozen in an airtight container for up to 1 month. 

Feta-za’atar Caesar dressing can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

The assembled salad is best eaten right away, before the lettuce leaves wilt.