In Defence of Tinned Fish

Illustrations by Grace McKenna

In the no man’s land between Christmas and New Year I found land, or rather sea, in the r/tinnedfish microcosm of the arguably not much larger macrocosm that is reddit. As I mourn Southern hemisphere summer from the minus temperatures of the Storm Goretti-ravaged UK, I have found obsessional solace in this nutritional powerhouse, neatly and conveniently packaged in an ever-evolving myriad of oily accompaniments. Do not get me started on the satisfying loosening of the tin’s metal ring opening. I would like to campaign, however,  for the reinstatement of the traditional key, twist, peel mechanism, yet I digress. 

I have been thinking back to a fishy altercation in my Chilean student accommodation when my unassuming tin of sardines in spring water brought a fix of Tuesday night entertainment in the form of quasi-repulsed commotion. I bravely faced said fishphobic jeers, emboldened by self-assuredness in my own omega-3 rich bliss. Am I a villain for sacrificing my poor housemate's nosebuds for my pesky cravings, keen to reach optimum brain and heart health? Said kitchen humiliation was drawn out, as I struggled to open the tab-less tin, with no adequate can-pryer tool (our kitchen not only lacked in size, but kitchen utensils too). That night only my dignity, a singular spoon and a sardine dream helped salvage my defeated identity as a self-diagnosed tinned fish tyrant.

What felt at the time like a vulnerably controversial distinctiveness, a fun personality trait to distinguish myself from your average gym bro-cum-tinned-tuna-lover trope, contrasts the current online boom, or more delicately put, ‘’yassification’’ of the humble tin of fish. 

Ricochetting off of initially niche distant corners of the internet (I love you /@CannedFishFiles, never stop making Youtube videos), the cheap pantry staple has, willingly or not, been rebranded by Generation Z’s confused and distorted conception of ‘’affordable luxury’’. The ingenious visually appealing premium branding of companies such as Fish Wife, has earned the coveted approval of the likes of Vanity Fair and Vogue,  with The New York Times christening it ‘‘a stylish and sustainable addition to any party’’, repositioning the humble tinned fish into a luxury commodity. What could ever be concluded about 2025’s economy when a can of fish replaces that of a bottle of wine as an accompaniment to a New York Times approved party…? 

While historically utilitarian food is marketed online as a luxury, bespoke and exclusive ‘art’ meticulously displayed on a ‘seacuturie board’, many others demand credit be given to the deeply rooted Iberian production and tradition of conservas, claiming gentrification. However, following suit to the recent modern phenomenon of marketing teams intentionally marrying food and fashion in visual content advertising (think Hailey Beiber’s Rhode brand’s food-themed content), food becomes a marker of status to be curated, subtly marking indulgence and wealth.This increasingly blurred distinction between food and art may inadvertently reflect economic recession and struggle in which food becomes an ideal or trend to buy into as opposed to a basic primordiality. It is quite funny to note the internet’s transfixion on imperishable, ballistic missile resistant food with associations of ration and struggle, as if waiting in trepidation for the earth’s and all living substance’s spontaneous combustion. I would most happily nom on Nuri’s limited edition ragout style sardines in my nuclear bunker. 

In the vein of toxic chemical cocktails and fish, I thought it appropriate to address last month’s algorithm a-lister on #TinnedFishtok, ‘‘burning a fishy oil paper towel in tin to get that smoky flavour’ trend’’. Not only is this extra hassle less flavourful than pre-smoked options, but also contains extra microplastics leached from the overheated, burning plastic coating of the tin - yummy! The trend is especially futile in light of the great lineage of methods to truly smoke and preserve fish in tins. Please don't knowingly deprive yourself of true smoky flavour, substituting it instead for that Michelin microplastic star flavour, with the additional minor potential risk of a major house fire - tinned fish demands respect, to be revered and not overlooked, timeless beyond trend.. It is a fishy force to be reckoned with. It is thus on you if you burn a plastic insulated metal can; the fish and plastic composition will conspire in a wicked display of seawater karma,  poisoning you for not respecting the ornate tinned fish ecosystem. 

Despite all this, I swear I am excited by the gaining of tinned-fish conscience. I think I may be just grouchy and severely underwhelmed that I missed out on ‘Fishmas’ 2025. Not to get ahead of myself or anything, but I am excited to see how tinned fish marketing will evolve by Advent 2026  (a tinned fish advent calendar that is not £275 please?). 

As it transpires, there really is only one fish in the sea for me; tinned, in ornate typography donned packaging, preferably with finelined marine and naval illustrations. Is that too much to ask for?