Seafood is my favorite fare, especially sushi, fried oysters, and clams on the half shell. The fishier, the better. But for some reason I never got into caviar. Admittedly, my experience with it was largely limited to ikura, those shiny orange globes of roe that top off some types of sushi. Once I tried them I never ordered it again. I saw people picking them off with their chopsticks and eating them individually, so I did the same. The distinct pop … just no.
And then last week, I went to a fancy work event, and they served an hors d’oeuvre that converted me. It was a tiny latke, topped with what I thought was sour cream but now think was probably creme fraiche, topped off with a miniscule spoonful of smooth, black caviar, more akin to a spread than individual eggs. No pop, just crispy-savory briny delight. I lost count of how many I devoured.
I have realized what I’ve been missing, and if there was any time to learn how to buy, serve, and eat caviar, it’s the holiday season. So I did. Here, answers to all your urgent questions about fish eggs.
I know you know, but in the interest of creating a complete informative experience here: fish eggs, i.e. roe, most often from sturgeon, which is dark in color, sometimes jet black. “Non-sturgeon” caviar from salmon and other fish is red or orange. (They’re unfertilized eggs, just fyi.)
Many specialty purveyors online will ship you the freshest and finest in caviar, chilled, of course. But the vast majority seem to gear themselves to the true connoisseur. (We’re talking up to $1,200 a tin.) About the most down to Earth online retailer is Williams-Sonoma. They have a few over-the-top prices in their assortment too, but they also have solid mid-range options, along with nice giftable kits and sets that include accoutrements with the caviar. The more upscale local grocers like Whole Foods and Wegmans are also convenient sources of caviar. Head to the refrigerated section. A few can sometimes be found on store shelves, but steer clear. Usually, they don’t need refrigeration because they’re extremely heavily salted, a sign you’re not dealing with good quality roe.
Tobiko (flying fish roe synonymous with Japanese cuisine), Louisiana bowfin, whitefish roe, American spoonbill, salmon roe, and Illinois hackleback are all economical and delectable.
A general rule of thumb is to plan on ½ oz. per person, which is 15 grams (some brands show the weight in grams). If you want to go all out, offer your guests three to five different types of roe for an indulgent experience.
Find a nice dish and fill it with crushed ice. Take your tin of caviar out of the refrigerator, settle it into the ice, and then just spoon it out directly from the tin. No, that’s not tacky. Apparently, that’s how it’s done.
Traditionally, mini mother-of-pearl spoons are used, but any dainty spoon that isn’t metal is fine, even plastic if that’s all you can come up with. A metal spoon tinkers with the taste. (Yes, caviar is sold in metal cans, but those have a special lining.) Aim to dole out about a half teaspoon of caviar on each appetizer so that there’s enough of it to really carry the wonderfully distinctive flavor.
One simple way to serve caviar is atop a wee cushion of creme fraiche on a tiny potato latke. If you’d want to go for extra special, you can garnish with capers, red onion, or chives. (Sour cream or full-fat Greek yogurt are perfectly good swaps if you’re fresh out of creme fraiche.) A popular alternative to a latke is a small blini, a wafer-thin pancake or even Tater Tots. Other swap-ins might be mini toast points, good-quality crackers, Melba toast, or root veggie chips. And caviar makes an elegant top-off to deviled eggs.
Champagne or an ice-cold vodka martini are the classic choices, but a brut cava or a buttery chardonnay is excellent too. Beer is a definite possibility for casual gatherings. Just stay away from sweet wines and cocktails. They do a lousy job of cleansing the palate, which is what you want in between bites of rich, decadent caviar.