Vitello tonnato was one of those dishes I avoided for years because the concept sounded wrong. Cold sliced veal with tuna sauce? Who thought of that? Why would you combine those things?
Then I had it at an Italian restaurant in Manhattan and everything made sense. The sauce – tonnato – is the star. The veal is basically just a vehicle for getting that creamy, briny, umami-bomb sauce into your mouth.
What Tonnato Sauce Actually Is
Canned tuna, mayonnaise, capers, anchovies, lemon juice. That’s the basic formula. You blend it until smooth and silky, thin it with a bit of olive oil if needed, and end up with this pale beige sauce that tastes like nothing else.
The flavor is anchovy-forward without being fishy (I know that sounds contradictory). There’s brininess from the capers, richness from the mayo and tuna, brightness from the lemon. It’s umami central.
Some versions add a bit of white wine. Some skip the mayo entirely and use olive oil, which makes it lighter but less traditional. I’ve tried both and prefer the mayo version for its creaminess.
Making It At Home
This is actually ridiculously easy:
One can of good-quality tuna (packed in olive oil, please, not water). About half a cup of mayonnaise. Two tablespoons of capers. Two or three anchovy fillets. Juice of half a lemon. Blend until smooth. Season with pepper, taste, adjust.
The sauce keeps for several days in the fridge and actually improves overnight as the flavors meld. I usually make it a day ahead.
Quality of ingredients matters here. Don’t use cheap tuna packed in water – you’ll taste the difference. The good Spanish or Italian tuna in olive oil costs more but it’s worth it for this application.
What To Serve It On
Traditional: thinly sliced cold veal. The mild meat lets the sauce shine. If you can find or make proper vitello tonnato, it’s a wonderful summer dish.
Practical: sliced turkey breast. Nobody will judge you. The flavors work almost as well and it’s way easier to source.
What I actually do most often: spread it on toasted bread as a fancy-ish appetizer. Sometimes with sliced hard-boiled eggs on top. Sometimes on a tomato salad. Sometimes just eaten off a spoon while standing in my kitchen at 11pm.
It’s also great on cold poached chicken, on vegetables, even as a dip for crudités. The sauce is versatile once you accept its weird-sounding concept.
Wine With Tonnato
White wine, definitely. The sauce is rich but the tuna and anchovy want something with acidity and no tannins.
Vermentino: Italian, lean, slightly saline. The coastal character echoes the seafood elements. This is my usual pick.
Soave: Classic Northern Italian white. Clean and bright.
Pinot Grigio: Neutral and refreshing. Won’t interfere with the sauce’s complexity.
Provençal rosé: Works surprisingly well if it’s dry and cold. The lightness matches the summer-dish vibe.
Why I’m Converted
I spent years thinking tuna sauce sounded like a mistake. Now it’s one of my favorite condiments. Sometimes the weird combinations are the best ones – someone centuries ago in Piedmont figured out that tuna and veal work together, and they were right.
The sauce is the revelation. Once you’ve made it, you’ll find excuses to use it on everything. Fair warning: you might become the person who talks too much about tonnato sauce at dinner parties. Worth it.
