Sarde in saor: A venetian classic

I’m from Padova—a city of arcades, students, saints, science, and spritz. A place where you grow up walking beneath medieval porticoes, cycling to the market in Prato della Valle, and meeting friends for an aperitivo that inevitably includes something fried. When you grow up in Padova, Venice is always just there—close enough to visit on a Sunday, but distant enough to feel like another world.

Yet historically, culturally, and even gastronomically, the two cities are deeply intertwined. Padova and Venice have shared far more than train schedules and tourists. They share centuries of political history, artistic exchange, and culinary tradition. That’s why, when I was asked to write something about my roots for this magazine, Sarde in Saor came immediately to mind.

A dish that crosses borders

To understand why this Venetian dish feels so Padovan to me, you need to understand the centuries-long relationship between our cities.

From the early 15th century until the fall of the Republic in 1797, Padova was part of the Stato da Tera, the mainland domain of La Serenissima, the Venetian Republic. While Venice ruled the seas, Padova and the surrounding countryside provided it with agricultural resources, intellectual power, and manpower.

The University of Padova flourished under Venetian rule, becoming a beacon for science, medicine, and philosophy. Meanwhile, Venetian laws governed trade, taxes, and guilds. Venetian culture seeped into the architecture of our palaces, the tone of our dialect, and yes—into our food.

We weren’t Venice. We were Padova. But we were part of something larger and more powerful, and that connection still lives in the background of our identity. It’s in the columns of Palazzo Bo, in the paintings of the Scrovegni Chapel, and in recipes like Sarde in Saor, which you’ll find not only in bacari along the canals of Cannaregio but also in Padovan homes, trattorias, and osterie.

The origins of the Sarde in saor

To fully appreciate the beauty of Sarde in Saor, we need to sail back to the 14th century, when Venice was at the height of its maritime power. Its galleys ruled the Adriatic and connected East and West in a vast network of trade. But life at sea was anything but glamorous. Sailors spent long days exposed to sun, salt, and hunger, and food preservation was a matter of survival.

Fresh sardines—cheap, plentiful, and highly perishable—were a dietary staple for Venetian fishermen. But how to keep them from spoiling without ice or refrigeration?

The answer was saor, a Venetian dialect word for “flavour,” but in practice, it meant a clever combination of acid and sweetness, used as a natural preservative.

It’s simple, humble, and endlessly satisfying

The method was simple but effective: sardines were first cleaned and fried, then layered with sautéed onions cooked in vinegar. Over time, raisins and pine nuts were added to enrich the dish, transforming it from mere sustenance into something comforting and delicious. The vinegar slowed bacterial growth, while the onions acted as a barrier and added mellow sweetness. Raisins brought a fruity contrast; pine nuts gave crunch and a subtle nuttiness.

Why this dish matters to me

Recently, I’ve started getting into sailing and boating. Nothing heroic—just a growing curiosity about the sea and the skills it takes to move across it. So when I think of a dish that connects Padova, Venice, the sea, and my own personal journey—it’s this one. It reminds me that our region’s strength has always come from a unique blend of land and sea, of scholarly city life and salty pragmatism. From the engineers who studied in Padova to the sailors who fished in Chioggia, everyone contributed to our culture—sometimes through philosophy, sometimes through food.

The recipe

There are many versions, but this is the one I use. It’s simple, humble, and endlessly satisfying.

Ingredients:

500g fresh sardines (cleaned, heads removed)
500g white onions (thinly sliced)
100ml white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar (optional, depending on taste)
30g raisins
30g pine nuts
Flour (for dusting)
Olive oil (for frying and marinating)
Salt and pepper to taste

Instructions

Prep the sardines: Rinse and pat them dry, then dust lightly with flour. Fry in hot olive oil until golden and crispy. Set aside on kitchen paper to drain.
Cook the onions: In a large pan, soften the onions gently in olive oil (don’t brown them). Add the vinegar, sugar (if using), raisins, and pine nuts. Let it simmer for a few minutes until the vinegar mellows and the raisins plump.
Assemble: In a ceramic or glass container, layer the sardines and onion mixture. Start with a layer of onions, then sardines, repeating until everything is used up. The top layer should be onions.
Rest: Cover and refrigerate for at least 24 hours—48 is even better. This dish is best served at room temperature, ideally with polenta or crusty bread.

When I make Sarde in Saor, I’m not just cooking—I’m stepping into a long tradition. It connects me to Venetian sailors and Padovan cooks, to the lagoon’s tides and the arcades of Piazza delle Erbe. It reminds me that our region’s strength has always come from this blend of land and sea, of scholarly city life and salty pragmatism.

I also like that this dish doesn’t pretend to be fancy. It’s straightforward, honest, and better with time—just like the stories from my hometown. Whether served on a plastic plate at a regatta or as an antipasto in a Padovan dinner, Sarde in Saor is a reminder that heritage can be both humble and rich. That you don’t need much to make something lasting—just good ingredients, a little patience, and a sense of where you come from.

“You don’t need much to make something lasting”