Colatura di Alici, an Italian fish sauce, brings savory deliciousness to a quick, simple pasta. Recipe below.
The oddest little things catch my eye in the most random places. And lots of recipes here start that way. In a recent issue of New York magazine, a description of ribs at Danny Meyer’s Vini e Fritti included “After a toss in a sticky mix of Calabrian chiles, honey, vinegar, and the Italian fish sauce colatura…” Italian fish sauce? I stopped reading and started Googling.
Turns out colatura di alici—anchovy sauce—is a go-to condiment in Italian cooking, adding saltiness and umami (that sixth taste sense of savoriness) to many dishes. And it has venerable roots. Both the Ancient Greeks and Romans had versions of colatura. In Rome, it was called garum. According to Pliny the Elder (via Wikipedia), garum was made from fish intestines and salt.
The making of modern-day colatura di alici doesn’t sound much more promising. As Bill Tonelli reports in Slate, the best colatura comes from “the small fishing village of Cetara, on the Amalfi Coast, where, in summer, anchovies are caught and put into wooden barrels along with salt and then weighted down. The fishes give up their juice and in autumn, holes are poked into the barrels’ bottoms so the colatura can be drained.” Still, Tonelli’s article was titled “The Italian Anchovy Juice That Might Change Your Life”—that was endorsement enough for me.
Colatura is often compared to Asian fish sauce, which we always have in our fridge and sometimes even use as a flavor enhancer in non-Asian dishes. It adds salt and umami, without adding any particular fishiness. That is what colatura does, with claims of being even less fishy. We did not get our colatura from the Amalfi Coast; ours came from Eataly. Expect to pay between $16 and $32 for a 100ml bottle (at Eataly, it was $16.80). That sounds a little spendy, but you use very small amounts to great effect.
Perhaps the best known use of this fish sauce is Spaghetti alla Colatura di Alici, an elegantly simple dish with many variations. For my first foray, I took the simplest of simple approaches. My entire ingredients list was pasta, olive oil, colatura, garlic, lemon juice and parsley. The result was a very subtle, sublime thing. The colatura was not a specific flavor that announced itself. It just made all the other ingredients more than themselves—savory and satisfying and delicious.
A couple of quick notes about cooking with Colatura. First, use a light hand—this stuff is very salty. Very. On a related note, when cooking pasta for this dish, DO NOT SALT THE WATER. Seriously.
Linguine Colatura di Alici
Serves 2 (can be doubled—see Kitchen Notes)
8 to 10 ounces dried linguine (or spaghetti, to be traditional)
3 tablespoons olive oil (use the good stuff)
1 tablespoon colatura
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
3 to 4 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
Start a pot of water for the pasta. DO NOT SALT THE WATER. Cook pasta to al dente.
A few minutes before the pasta is done, whisk the olive oil and colatura together in a small bowl. Heat a large sauté pan over medium flame and warm the olive oil mixture until shimmering. Add the garlic and cook, stirring constantly, until garlic is fragrant, about 45 seconds. Turn off the heat.
Drain the cooked pasta and add it to the sauté pan. Toss to coat pasta with the olive oil mixture. Add the lemon juice and parsley and toss to combine. Plate in shallow bowls and serve.
Kitchen Notes
“Doubling” the recipe. To serve 4, cook 16 ounces of dry pasta. Up the olive oil to 4 tablespoons and the colatura to 1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon. Add some more lemon juice and parsley. For the garlic, you’re probably good as is, but you can up it if you really love garlic.
Variations. Some recipes call for red pepper flakes—I might do that next time for a little kick. Some also call for bread crumbs, which also sounds good to me.
Further explorations. I am excited to try colatura in stews and braises to see what it can bring to the umami party.
Neat dish. I have heard about coltura, ages and ages ago. And forgot all about it. I’ve never cooked with it, and I don’t think I’ve seen it in a store. Sounds like a fun ingredient. I’ve been playing with Mediterranean “stir-frys” lately, and this would be the perfect ingredient! Anyway, really nice dish — thanks.
When I first heard about garum (decades ago), I was grossed out by the idea. Then a coworker who was raised in Cambodia introduced me to the joys of asian fish sauce, and I had to reconsider. This sounds even yummier; will have to try it. Thanks!
John and Eeka, I am already thinking of other ways to use this umami bomb. And am of course happy to remake this dish.