{"id":246686,"date":"2026-04-01T13:37:46","date_gmt":"2026-04-01T13:37:46","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us-ca\/246686\/"},"modified":"2026-04-01T13:37:46","modified_gmt":"2026-04-01T13:37:46","slug":"some-call-it-bait-fish-these-chefs-call-it-springs-hottest-catch","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us-ca\/246686\/","title":{"rendered":"Some call it bait fish. These chefs call it spring\u2019s hottest catch"},"content":{"rendered":"

Anchovy toast at The Anchovy Bar. | Source: Courtesy The Anchovy Bar<\/p>\n

This column is a part of the Off Menu<\/a> newsletter, our Wednesday dispatch of restaurant news, gossip, tips, and hot takes. Sign up for weekly emails here.<\/a><\/p>\n

After decades in Northern California, I\u2019ve been trained to read spring in a certain way: As soon as the tree petals confetti the sidewalks, I know the markets will start to overflow with artichokes and fava beans, and menus will fill with strawberries, green garlic, and apricots. That\u2019s the season. That\u2019s what I\u2019m supposed to get excited about.<\/p>\n

But spring as the kickoff to anchovy season?\u00a0I\u2019m embarrassed to say, I had no idea.<\/p>\n

The silvery local fish are just about to arrive \u2014 and they\u2019ll be here through November. The abundant, relatively unrestricted schools of anchovy that swim in our bay are a shimmering, swirling glimmer of hope. Though stocks were down prior to 2015, we\u2019re now in a boom: In 2022, California\u2019s coast was home to an estimated 2 million metric tons (opens in new tab)<\/a> of anchovies \u2014 roughly seven times (opens in new tab)<\/a> the total of all other fish caught in the state\u2019s waters that year.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"\"Sardines in the holding pens on Pier 47. | Source: Courtesy Erik Sandquist<\/p>\n

Meanwhile, commercial wild salmon has been off limits for three years. Crab season is a tangled trap of whale savers and frustrated fishermen<\/a>. And a while back, local sardines said \u201chasta luego\u201d and headed off for San Diego.<\/p>\n

The handwringing around the Bay Area\u2019s struggling fisheries has been so constant that it\u2019s been easy to miss the one variety that\u2019s thriving \u2014 and that chefs are only just beginning to take seriously.<\/p>\n

Stuart Brioza and Nicole Krasinski of State Bird Provisions have built an entire restaurant around them \u2014 The Anchovy Bar<\/a> \u2014 but you\u2019ll also find the little guys dusted in cornmeal for \u201cfries with eyes\u201d at Nopa Fish, used for jeotgal and fish sauce at San Ho Won, tempura-fried at Nisei, cured at Rich Table, and fried with preserved Meyer lemon aioli and fresh horseradish at Scoma\u2019s.<\/p>\n

All these restaurants get their anchovies delivered directly from Pier 47 (well, the cooks at Scoma\u2019s just have to just walk a few feet). During the season, the eight underwater pens hold up to 20,000 pounds of live anchovies, according to Erik Sandquist and Sean Hodges, the fishermen who own J & P Bait (opens in new tab)<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\"An\"AnThe anchovy tartine with \u2019ndjua butter at Tartine Manufactory. | Source: Lauren Saria for The Standard\"A\"AA bevy of chovies at Nopa Fish. | Source: Sara Deseran\/The Standard<\/p>\n

The two are the only anchovy guys around here. If you\u2019ve ever popped a local anchovy into your mouth, it came from them.<\/p>\n

Sandquist, a lifelong fisherman, bought the docks at the entrepreneurially advanced age of 24. In 2010, he paired up with Hodges, who owns a 65-foot boat called the Cape Knox. The boat has four deep live wells, where thousands of anchovies are kept alive in circulating seawater.\u00a0<\/p>\n

It\u2019s also equipped with a massive spool that holds a purse seine, a long, curtain-like net that unfurls behind the boat, circling anchovies before cinching shut beneath them. The net itself, some of which is knotted by hand by Sandquist, is like a Ruth Asawa artwork. It\u2019s a craft he learned from a squid fisherman. \u201cIf you\u2019re off by a 16th of an inch per knot all the way down, the net won\u2019t hang right in the water,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n

If you want to understand anchovies, you have to start with how quickly they break down once they\u2019re dead, due in part to their high oil content. Which is why they\u2019re sold live. \u201cThey have, like, a 24- to 36-hour shelf life,\u201d Sandquist says.<\/p>\n

If you ask a chef like Brioza, however, the window is closer to two hours. When they are delivered to The Anchovy Bar \u2014 mostly DOA \u2014 the kitchen staff drop everything, treating the tiny fish with the frantic urgency of the ER docs on \u201cThe Pitt.\u201d Scaled, deboned, and gutted, most of the fish are set to cure in Brioza\u2019s California-style boquerones: lime juice spiked with basil, jalape\u00f1o, and garlic.<\/p>\n

\u201cA lot of restaurants don\u2019t want to deal with the headache of them,\u201d says Kenny Belov, owner of TwoXSea, a wholesaler committed to sustainability and transparency. (He also owns Fish restaurant and market in Sausalito.) Like every fish distributor in SF, Belov gets his anchovies from J & B and, from there, sells them to the city\u2019s top restaurants \u2014 up to 200 pounds a day. \u201cWhen I started, 20 pounds was a record.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"AErik Sandquist, fisherman and co-owner of J & P Bait. | Source: Sara Deseran\/The Standard<\/p>\n

There is some irony to all this fuss. Because most people still see anchovies as bait, used to catch the \u201creal\u201d fish, like striped bass and halibut. Even with all his restaurant clients, Sandquist estimates that only 35% of his anchovy catch is sold \u201cfor human consumption.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

Sometimes Brioza brings Sandquist and Hodges their own anchovies \u2014 cured and ready to eat \u2014 for an impromptu tailgate at the dock. \u201cI go down a few times during the season,\u201d Brioza said. \u201cUsually with visiting chefs when I want to show it off.\u201d Sandquist, unsurprisingly, appreciates it, proudly sending me a photo of Brioza\u2019s silvery anchovies speared with basil and tomato, a ramekin of sea salt on the side.<\/p>\n

I get why Brioza\u2019s into it. Knowing that all our anchovies are pulled from our waters \u2014 somewhere between Alcatraz and Half Moon Bay \u2014 by two guys on one boat makes them singularly fresh and gloriously local. Despite their ubiquity, it\u2019s the care that goes into preparing them that makes them feel rare. And definitely worth adding to the culinary calendar.\u00a0<\/p>\n

To get the freshest anchovies, stop by J & P Bait (opens in new tab)<\/a>, open to the public seven days a week. They\u2019re $30 for \u201chalf a scoop\u201d (6 pounds).<\/p>\n