Alici Indorate e Fritte

Alici 'ndurate e fritte are one of the great classics of old, popular Naples, a piece of cucina povera built on the cheap, plentiful blue fish of the Gulf. Fresh anchovies are cleaned by hand, the head pinched off and the fish opened flat like a book, the backbone drawn out to leave the two fillets joined. What sets them apart from plain fried anchovies is the coating, the 'indoratura': each fish is turned first in flour, then in beaten egg, so it fries to a golden, gilded shell, the same trick Naples uses for its indorate-fried courgettes and mozzarella. They belong to the city's deep street-food tradition, sold hot in a cuoppo, a rolled paper cone, and eaten standing up with salt, pepper and a squeeze of lemon, as good by the sea as in a home kitchen.

A shatter-crisp golden crust giving way to a soft, briny anchovy inside, still juicy and just set. Hot and salty, a little sweet from the egg, cut clean by lemon; you eat them one after another straight from the paper.

The two-step coating does the work. The flour dries the wet surface of the fish and gives the egg something to grip; the egg then sets in the hot oil into a thin, sealed shell, its proteins coagulating and browning by the Maillard reaction into the golden, gilded colour. That shell traps moisture, so the thin, delicate anchovy steams gently inside while the outside crisps. The oil must sit around 165 to 180 degrees Celsius: hot enough to flash the surface water to steam and brown the egg fast, so little oil soaks in, but not so hot that the fillet dries out in the seconds it needs to cook. Very fresh fish and a dry coating keep the crust crisp rather than soggy.