
My Natural-Wine-Night Obsession: Smoked Mackerel “Rillettes” Crostini with Warm Lemon–Caper Butter
I built this crostini for the nights when friends “just stop by” and suddenly I’m hosting a little Paris-meets-California salon—one bottle becomes two, and someone always asks, “Do you have snacks?”
The inspiration is pure bistro: rillettes on toast, salty fish, butter sauce, something pick-y and bright. But I wanted it to feel sunlit, not sleepy. So I do a lightning quick-cure on smoked mackerel—just a kiss of salt, lemon, maybe a whisper of vinegar—enough to wake up the smoke and make the fish taste like it’s standing up straighter.
My favorite memory of this dish is making it after a Santa Cruz market run, still sandy from the coast, with celery that smelled like actual leaves and green apples so tart they made me squint. That crunch is the whole point: it snaps the richness back into focus.
What makes it special to me is the beurre monté—warm lemon–caper butter that feels like a chef’s flex but takes five minutes. Tip: keep the butter just warm (not boiling) so it stays silky. Make it yours with shaved fennel, preserved lemon, or a little avocado if you’re feeling very California.
Featured Recipe

Smoked Mackerel Quick-Cure “Rillettes” Crostini with Warm Lemon–Caper Beurre Monté + Celery-Apple Crunch
This is my natural-wine-night bistro snack: briny, bright, a little smoky, and somehow still light on its feet. I do a lightning cure on smoked mackerel to wake it up, pile it onto skillet-toasted crostini, then spoon over a warm lemon–caper beurre monté that feels fancy but takes five minutes. Finish with crisp celery and green apple so every bite snaps back into balance.
Save a copy to your collection for editing
Ingredients
- 8 oz Smoked mackerel fillets (boneless if possible)(skin removed if it’s tough; pick out any pin bones)
- 1/2 tsp Kosher salt(for the quick cure)
- 1 tsp Granulated sugar(for the quick cure)
- 1 tsp Lemon zest(from 1 lemon)
- 2 1/2 tbsp Fresh lemon juice(divided)
- 1 Shallot(small; finely minced (about 2 tbsp), divided)
- 3 tbsp Crème fraîche(or Greek yogurt for a lighter, tangier vibe)
- 1 tsp Dijon mustard(optional but I love the bistro bite)
- 1/2 tsp Freshly ground black pepper(plus more to taste)
- 2 tbsp Chives(finely sliced, plus extra to finish)
- 12 slices Sourdough or country loaf, sliced(1/2-inch thick, baguette works too)
- 2 tbsp Extra-virgin olive oil(for skillet toast)
- 6 tbsp Unsalted butter(cold, cut into cubes)
- 2 tbsp Dry white wine(or dry vermouth)
- 1 1/2 tbsp Capers(drained; roughly chopped if large)
- 2 stalks Celery (tender inner stalks + leaves)(thinly sliced; save leaves for garnish)
- 1/2 Green apple(thin matchsticks (Granny Smith is perfect))
- 1/4 tsp Fennel seeds(lightly crushed; optional but gorgeous with mackerel)
Instructions
- 1
Quick-cure to “wake up” the mackerel: Flake the 8 oz Smoked mackerel fillets into a bowl (big flakes, not paste). Toss with 1/2 tsp Kosher salt, 1 tsp Granulated sugar, 1 tsp Lemon zest, 1 tbsp Fresh lemon juice, half the Shallot (minced), and 1/2 tsp Freshly ground black pepper. Let it sit 10 minutes while you toast the bread.
10 min
Tip: This isn’t about preserving—just brightening and tightening the flavor so it tastes clean, briny, and intentional (not just ‘smoky fish from a package’).
- 2
Skillet toast the crostini: Heat a large skillet over medium-high. Add 2 tbsp Extra-virgin olive oil and toast the 12 slices Sourdough or country loaf, sliced in batches until deeply golden on both sides, 2–3 minutes per side. Set on a rack or board.
10 min
Tip: I like a skillet toast because it’s bistro-style: more flavor, more crunch, and you control the color. Don’t be shy—go properly golden.
- 3
Make the “rillettes” base: To the quick-cured mackerel, fold in 3 tbsp Crème fraîche, 1 tsp Dijon mustard (if using), 1 tbsp Chives, and the remaining 1 1/2 tbsp Fresh lemon juice. Taste and adjust: more pepper, a pinch more lemon, or a spoon of crème fraîche if you want it softer.
5 min
Tip: Keep some texture. If you mash it smooth, it eats heavy. Big flakes = light, luxurious.
- 4
Beurre monté, quick and briny: In a small saucepan over medium-low, warm the 2 tbsp Dry white wine with the remaining half the Shallot just until steaming (don’t boil it hard). Whisk in 6 tbsp Unsalted butter (cold), one cube at a time, keeping the heat gentle, until glossy and emulsified. Stir in 1 1/2 tbsp Capers, a squeeze of lemon (about 1/2 tbsp Fresh lemon juice), and 1/4 tsp Fennel seeds (if using).
6 min
Tip: If it starts to look oily, pull the pan off heat and whisk like you mean it. Beurre monté wants calm energy.
- 5
Make the crunch: Toss 2 stalks Celery (tender inner stalks + leaves) and 1/2 Green apple with a tiny pinch of salt and a few drops of lemon juice. Add celery leaves for drama.
3 min
Tip: This crunchy topper is my California sun—without it, the snack leans too rich and smoky.
- 6
Assemble: Spoon mackerel “rillettes” onto warm crostini. Top with celery-apple crunch. Spoon a little warm lemon–caper beurre monté over each (not a flood—just a glossy kiss). Finish with 1 tbsp Chives and a crack of pepper.
5 min
Tip: Serve immediately while the butter is warm and the toast is loud.
Chef's Notes
Story time: I started making versions of this when a fisherman friend handed me smoked mackerel and said, ‘It’s too intense for most people—fix it.’ In Paris I would’ve hidden it under cream and called it a day. In California, I do the opposite: quick cure for brightness, crunchy celery-apple for lift, and a warm beurre monté because I’m still French and I refuse to pretend butter isn’t the point. Wine pairing: a chilled Muscadet, a saline Assyrtiko, or a pét-nat with good acidity—anything that loves smoke and capers without getting sweet.
Marguerite Lavigne
French soul, California sun
I grew up in a small village outside Lyon, where my grandmother taught me that the best meals come from respecting your ingredients. After training at Le Cordon Bleu and spending years in Parisian kitchens, I moved to San Francisco and fell in love with California's farmers markets and wine country. Now I cook the food I wish my grandmother could taste—French technique with California abundance, where a perfect roast chicken might come with Meyer lemon and wild fennel instead of tarragon.