I cooked a lot of octopus while working on Mafia Island, off the coast of Tanzania. In Swahili, octopus is pweza. We often ate it with wali wa nazi (coconut rice) and kachumbari (similar to pico de gallo). When the octopus was cooked right, it was hard to beat.
I also swore off eating octopus for years after having to pack about a hundred pounds of semi-frozen octopus into a big chest cooler while running a malarial fever and dealing with the accompanying hallucinations. That experience changed my appetite. Eventually, I came back around. Octopus has a way of doing that.
There is very little middle ground with octopus. When it is good, it's one of the best things in the sea. When it's bad, it's really bad. It's rubbery, muddy, flaccid: all words you don't want to read in a recipe.
Octopus Isn't a Fish
Octopus is a cephalopod, along with squid and cuttlefish. It doesn't flake like tuna. It's not oily like sardines. It doesn't eat like salmon, trout, or mackerel. Texture is probably the most important metric in judging a good octopus recipe.
Good octopus should be tender, but still have structure. It should have some bite, but not bounce back. If it is rubbery, it's probably undercooked. If it's mushy, it's probably overcooked. Octopus isn't forgiving to the novice cook.
Why Cooking Octopus Has So Many Rituals
Cooks have always had rituals around octopus.
Some freeze it first. Some beat it. Some simmer it slowly. Some dip it into boiling water before the real cooking even begins. And then there's the old wine cork trick.
I had cooked octopus with a wine cork tossed into the pot for years in the States, and when I arrived on Mafia Island, 8,000 miles away, I was rather surprised to find the cooks doing the exact same thing. Only recently did I learn that Serious Eats had tested the cork method and found no discernible difference.
The cork isn't really the point. The point is that octopus asks for careful hands. If it's cooked poorly, there's no hiding it.
The same is true in the tin.
What to Expect From Tinned Octopus
Tinned octopus is already cooked. You are not starting with a raw product. So the hard part has already been done. The producer has already made the big decisions: cut, cook, seasoning, oil, sauce, and packing.
That means your job is mostly restraint.
A good octopus tin should smell clean and marine, not harsh or muddy. The pieces should hold together. The texture should be tender with some resistance. The oil or sauce should support the octopus rather than mask it.
Olive Oil, Sauce, and Style
Octopus in olive oil is the most common version. There's no sauce to compete, so the octopus must stand on its own. This is the style I like best for judging quality.
Galician-style octopus usually brings paprika, pepper, onion, tomato, or a richer sauce. It wants potatoes or bread. Escabeche brings acidity. It works well with chips, olives and pickles. Mediterranean-style sauces bring the tin closer to a prepared dish. Those tins are often best warmed gently and served with rice, potatoes, or grilled bread.
How to Eat Tinned Octopus
Tinned octopus doesn't need much, but it does need the right support if you're not eating it straight from the tin.
Think less in terms of recipes and more in terms of balance. Octopus brings the texture. The tin brings the oil or sauce. Your job is to give it something to sit on, something bright, and something salty or crisp.
For octopus in olive oil, I like boiled potatoes, roasted peppers, lemon, parsley, olives, and bread. Maybe a squeeze of fresh lemon juice. That's a classic version for good reason.
For octopus in a richer sauce, warm the tin gently and serve it over rice or potatoes. Don't boil it. Don't cook it hard. You're reheating it, not thoroughly cooking the whole tin again.
For octopus in escabeche, I like it room temperature. Potato chips, pickled onions, olives, crispbread, and a few bites of something fatty will do more for the tin than any over-complicated preparation.
Where to Start
For your first octopus tin, keep it simple.
Island Creek Octopus in Olive Oil is the kind of tin I reach for. Olive oil doesn't give much room to hide. The octopus has to be good. The texture has to be on point. The oil has to be good. Island Creek checks all these boxes.
For a more affordable first step, Luças Octopus in Olive Oil is also a good place to begin: straightforward, well-packed, and simple enough to eat with potatoes, lemon, olives, or just a few slices of grilled bread.
That's all you really need.
Final Thoughts
Final Thoughts
Octopus isn’t the tin I hand to first-time customers.
It asks more from the person opening it than tuna, trout, salmon, or mackerel. But when the producer handles it well, few tins are better.
I avoided octopus for years after Mafia Island. Eventually, I came back around, but there are few foods I’m pickier about. The producer either handled it well, or they didn’t.
We carry the tins from producers who are doing it justice.