Mackerel Rillettes in Ten Minutes, from a Tin You Already Own
Rillettes began as a preservation method: pork cooked slowly in its own fat, shredded, and potted under a seal of that fat to keep. The fish version is the French coastal shortcut, served Breton-style as an aperitif on the Pink Granite Coast, and it works because a good tin of mackerel has already done the slow part. The fish is already cooked and seasoned; all that remains is the fat, the sharpness and the fork. Ten minutes turns two tins into a jar of pale, ragged spread that tastes like a restaurant first course. That is the case for keeping good tins at home, and the tinned fish guide makes it at length. Plain fillets in olive oil are the ones this recipe wants. The two teaspoons of Dijon sharpen the butter and keep the spread from tasting flat. The Dijon mustard guide covers what else it does in a kitchen.
There is one rule that decides whether this is rillettes or fish paste: the fork. Rillettes are ragged and visibly made of fish. A food processor turns the same ingredients into something smooth and anonymous. Mash half, leave half in flakes, and stop while the texture still looks like something a person made.
Ingredients, for four
- 2 tins (about 250 g total) mackerel fillets in olive oil, drained well
- 4 tablespoons (56 g) unsalted butter, softened
- 2 tablespoons crème fraîche
- 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
- 1 small shallot, minced fine
- 1 tablespoon lemon juice, plus the zest of half a lemon
- 1 tablespoon chives, thinly sliced
- Freshly ground black pepper
- Fine sea salt, to taste
- Optional: a pinch of piment d'Espelette or smoked paprika
- Toasted baguette or sturdy crackers, to serve
Method
- Soften the butter. Leave it at room temperature until it takes a thumbprint easily, about 30 minutes. Cold butter will not fold into the fish; it will sit in it as lumps.
- Prepare the fish. Drain the mackerel well and set the tin's oil aside for another use; in this recipe the butter is the fat. Slip off any loose skin and lift out the dark bloodline along the center of each fillet if you prefer a milder spread, then break the fillets into a bowl.
- Make the base. In a second bowl, beat the softened butter with the Dijon and crème fraîche until smooth and light. This is the structure of the dish: the butter sets the spread when chilled, the crème fraîche keeps it from setting too hard, and the mustard sharpens both.
- Fold with a fork. Add the mackerel, shallot, lemon juice and zest to the butter and fold with a fork, mashing some of the fish against the side of the bowl and leaving the rest in ragged flakes. Stop while it still looks coarse.
- Season. Fold in the chives and a generous grind of pepper, with the Espelette if using. Taste before salting. The fish comes seasoned from the tin, so start with a small pinch.
- Chill and serve. Pack into a small jar, press the surface level, cover and chill 30 minutes to set. Take the jar out 15 minutes before serving so it spreads instead of tearing the toast, and serve with lemon on the table.
Why it went wrong
| Symptom | Cause | Fix |
|---|---|---|
| Smooth and pasty, like a dip | The food processor | A fork only. Mash half, leave half in flakes; the texture is the dish |
| Harsh, aggressively fishy | The dark bloodline went in | Strip the dark center line from each fillet; finish with the lemon |
| Greasy, weeping oil | The tin's oil was folded in, or the bowl got warm | Drain well and work with cool ingredients; the butter is the only fat the spread needs |
| Rock hard from the fridge | Butter sets firm when cold | Fifteen minutes on the counter before serving, every time |
| Flat and dull | Underseasoned, nothing sharp | More lemon and pepper before more salt; a little extra Dijon if it still reads quiet |
Notes and variations
The fat map. All butter makes a firmer, richer rillette that holds its shape on a board; all crème fraîche makes a looser, tangier one that wants a spoon. The two-to-one ratio above is the place to start. The tin's oil stays out, because the butter is already doing that job.
Smoked or sauced mackerel makes a different spread, with the smoke or the sauce leading, and those tins make a meal eaten straight from the tin. The classic version starts from plain fillets in olive oil, such as Ati Manel's mackerel fillets (shop Ati Manel mackerel fillets) or José Gourmet's mackerel fillets in olive oil (shop José Gourmet mackerel fillets). If ten minutes is still too many, Ati Manel's smoked mackerel pâté (shop Ati Manel smoked mackerel pâté) is a ready-made spread in the same spirit. Serve it as itself, on toast.
The butter cap is the traditional finish for a jar that has to wait: a thin layer of melted butter poured over the pressed surface, the same seal that rillettes were invented for, keeping air off the fish. Capped or not, the jar keeps three days, covered, in the refrigerator.
Herbs: tarragon or dill can stand in for the chives, and a teaspoon of rinsed capers is never wrong.
In Denver, nothing here boils, so for once the altitude asks for no correction. The dry air is the thing to respect: toast just before serving, and keep the jar covered or the surface will dry to a crust.
The jar earns a place in a tinned fish tasting, spread on toast between the straight-from-the-tin courses, and it is the fastest thing to put out for drinks when guests are already in the driveway.
The Ambrosian Pantry ships nationwide from theambrosianpantry.com; the shop itself is at 263 Josephine Street in Cherry Creek, Denver.
