GET THIS:It's good for us, it's plentiful, and it's cheap. Here's a case for eating more mackerel, writes Hugo Arnold
At Tsukiji fish market in central Toyko, tuna reigns supreme. Lines of this mighty fish stretch for hundreds of metres, majestic in their silver-grey colouring, rigid as boards and each priced according to quality. The labelling system is hard to fathom, but get a Japanese expert on to the subject of tuna and you will be there for some time.
Mackerel may not attract quite the same attention, but this humble fish is of the same family. Equally sleek, equally handsome, they have now finished spawning and are just now coming into season, as anyone with a fishing line and a boat will be happy to tell you.
Why do we not prize this fish more? Why do we so often see it filleted and limp, instead of whole and sleek? Why do we not see it on restaurant menus?
Being pelagic, mackerel never stop swimming, which is why their flesh is so taught and firm when they are fresh, their shiny skin crisping up to a delicious finish under the grill, or over the barbecue.
Fans of sushi and sashimi will know that while mackerel may not be quite as sought after as tuna, it stands shoulder to shoulder in any bento box or on a sashimi platter, its silver-streaked skin providing a flash of brilliance. Dipped in soy and spiked with ginger or wasabi, it is a fish to fight over.
Not that we should have to. In this age of concern over fish stocks and sustainability, mackerel ticks all the right boxes being plentiful, seasonal and local. So no, or only a few, food miles. The problem for many is . . . how to cook it? Dipped in oatmeal and fried to a golden brown in butter is hard to beat, with a mug of tea, but while there is nothing wrong with tradition, this treatment doesn't really enable mackerel to rise to the dinner table on more than a few occasions, and in certain situations.
The Spanish/Mexican style of light pickling, as in escabeche, where the fish is briefly cooked and then left to marinate in oil and vinegar and selected aromatics, works well. A sharp sauce - gooseberry to celebrate the arrival of summer, or rhubarb, also pairs well with mackerel. You can also cut the richness of the flesh with spices rather than fruit. Think Middle Eastern, or Indian even. A whole mackerel slashed three times down each side and then stuffed with a heady mix of turmeric and cumin, garlic and ginger will grill to a sharp, aromatic finish. Or try something more gentle, such as a paste of coriander stalks with minced garlic and paprika.
While the spices help to cut the oiliness of the mackerel, a spoonful of yoghurt continues the theme, either plain or fashioned into raita with garlic and salted cucumber, or diced tomato. To serve, rice or couscous seem more in keeping than potatoes, although the latter made into a salad with dill, chives and olive oil can bring a welcome foil.
For all the prime white fish that lands on restaurant menus, it seems a shame not to celebrate such a local treasure with gusto. And yet this is a strangely difficult fish to sell.
Last summer a smoked version was on the menu at St John restaurant in London. What arrived was the tail-end of smoked mackerel, half a mackerel if you will. Along with it came a pot of horseradish cream and a bunch of watercress. Nothing else. The simple combination was a triumph, and the cost? Less than €7, and the evening I was there it sold out. But when Rasam, the Indian restaurant in Glasthule, Co Dublin put mackerel on as a special last summer, not one person bought it. Why? Apparently everyone asked said that it was a cheap fish. Give it another try.
harnold@irish-times.ie
St John, 26 St John Street, London, EC1M 4AY 00-44-20-7251-0848. Rasam, 18-19 Glasthule Road, Dún Laoghaire, Co Dublin, 01-2300600