Making smoked mackerel pâté at home

A coastal lunch worth keeping in the fridge

There are few better things to eat within sight of salt water than smoked mackerel. The fish has fed British harbour towns for centuries — landed at Newlyn and Scarborough, smoked in brick kilns along the east coast, sold from stalls on the quayside at Whitby and Oban. Today a hot-smoked mackerel costs very little and carries an enormous amount of flavour, which makes it ideal for a pâté. Ten minutes with a bowl, a fork and a lemon gives you a lunch that tastes far more considered than the effort involved — the sort of thing you would happily pay for in a harbour-side café after a morning on the water.

Start with the right fish

You want hot-smoked mackerel: whole fillets smoked and cooked through, with firm, flaky flesh and a deep bronze skin. It is sold as "smoked mackerel fillets" or "peppered mackerel", and either works well. Avoid cold-smoked mackerel, which is sliced thin and far saltier — it belongs on a blini, not in a pâté.

Buy from a fishmonger, a market stall or a harbour smokehouse if you can. Look for fillets that are glossy rather than dry at the edges, and that smell fresh and smoky rather than sharp. Frozen fillets are perfectly good; thaw them overnight in the fridge and pat them dry. Two large fillets, roughly 250g, will make enough for four generous lunches.

What you'll need

• 250g hot-smoked mackerel fillets
• 100g full-fat cream cheese
• 2 tbsp crème fraîche or soured cream
• 1–2 tsp creamed horseradish, to taste
• Finely grated zest and juice of half a lemon
• A good grind of black pepper
• A pinch of cayenne
• 1 tbsp finely chopped chives or dill (optional)

Full-fat cream cheese matters here. The low-fat sort turns watery and grainy, and the pâté loses the richness that balances the smoke.

Making it

Peel the skin off the fillets and run your fingertips over the flesh for stray bones — there are usually few, but they are worth removing. Flake the fish into a bowl, keeping some texture rather than shredding it to dust.

In a second bowl, beat the cream cheese and crème fraîche together until smooth, then stir in the horseradish, lemon zest and juice, pepper and cayenne. Fold the mackerel through with a fork, working lightly, and stop while there are still visible flakes. Taste and adjust: more lemon if it feels flat, more horseradish if it needs a lift, more pepper if it is too rich.

If you would rather use a food processor, pulse in short bursts — three or four is plenty. Blitz it smooth and the mixture turns pasty, which no amount of lemon will fix. Spoon into a small dish, press cling film onto the surface, and chill for at least half an hour. The flavours need time to settle and the smoke to soften into the cream.

Variations worth trying

• Dill and caper: a tablespoon of chopped dill and a teaspoon of drained, chopped capers — very Scandinavian, very good on rye.
• Pickled cucumber: finely diced gherkin stirred through at the last minute for crunch and acidity.
• Smoked paprika: a quarter teaspoon, plus a little extra lemon, for a warmer, deeper note.
• Grain mustard: a teaspoon in place of some of the horseradish, if you want a gentler heat.
• Watercress: a handful, finely chopped, for a peppery edge.

Serving it, and keeping it

Toast is the classic vehicle: sourdough, soda bread or a decent seeded loaf, well toasted so it holds up. Oatcakes are better for a boat or a rucksack — they travel without crumbling and give a nutty, coarse counterpoint. Rye crackers work too.

Keep the garnish simple: shavings of radish, thinly sliced cucumber, a spoonful of pickled shallots, or a scatter of samphire in season. A wedge of lemon never hurts. To drink, a dry white, a crisp cider or a strong pot of tea all suit it, depending on whether you are on a pontoon or in an armchair.

It makes an excellent lunch to take afloat: pack the pâté in a small jar, the oatcakes separately, and carry it in a cool bag with an ice pack. In the fridge it keeps for up to three days, covered, with the cling film pressed to the surface. It does not freeze well — cream cheese splits and the texture goes grainy — so make the amount you will eat, and do not let it sit out for more than two hours.

Made on a Friday, it will carry you through the weekend: on toast on Saturday morning, on oatcakes on the harbour wall at lunch, stirred through hot pasta with a squeeze of lemon on Sunday evening. That is a lot of coastal eating from one small fish.