Spanish Mackerel
One of these days, the pendulum of vogue will swing back to mackerel, and we'll start eating it again. Right now, about the only restaurants you'd find this common Gulf fish are sushi bars. Even in those, you'd be lucky to find mackerel.
Look at a New Orleans restaurant menu from fifty years ago, however, and you very likely would see it. Spanish mackerel was very commonly served in the classic restaurants. The liking for it declined after World War II, and now it's about down to zero.
And here's why. Mackerel is a strongly-flavored, oily fish. That's what I and its small number of fans like about it. It's a good taste, but a much more forward one than most people are accustomed to getting from fish.
Mackerel tastes "fishy." That seems to me a good thing. The mainstream eater, however, wants fish not to taste much like anything.
There's nothing bizarre about it, though. Spanish mackerel is a member of the same family as tuna. Its populations in the Gulf are substantial. They grow fast (they are extremely fast and effective predators of smaller fish) to around twelve pounds, although smaller ones are better. Their meat is on the gray side (another turnoff for some people).
Like Charlie the Tuna, Spanish mackerel has good taste. One of its favorite fish to eat is speckled trout.
And it tastes good. You can cook mackerel in all the usual ways. It's quite good fried. Broiled or grilled is nice, too. Sauces with big flavors of their own are natural companions, because the flavor of mackerel stands up to them. (I'm thinking of the preparation Chef Duke does at Café Giovanni, with artichokes, olives, capers, mushrooms, and butter.)
The ones in sushi bars are very small. (I'm not sure they're local.) The great way to have it prepared is as raw sashimi, cut right off the whole fish. Then the remainder of the fish (head, bones, tail, skin) is sent to the kitchen, which fries it. You can eat that pretty much whole. Exotic, but delicious.
