There’s an old idea hiding in plain sight: bright, herb-forward food can be beautifully balanced and still want one more layer. In another age that layer might have come from garum, or more directly now, from anchovies. That deep, salty, savory note is not meant to stand on its own. It sits underneath the herbs, the butter or oil, the lemon, the freshness. It gives the dish a lower register, a quiet bass line.

So Worcestershire is worth a second look. Not as “that Caesar sauce,” but as a subtle shortcut carrying a little of that anchovy depth, along with acid and a faint sweetness. Just a dash, below detection, can pull the layers together: herbs on top, richness in the middle, anchovy-dark depth underneath. Not to make itself known, but to let the whole dish land in one voice.