On a gray afternoon in 2026, a home cook stood at a kitchen counter with a pound of cod, a bowl of leeks, and a question that has split British families for generations: what belongs in a fish pie? The cook had heard the arguments before. One friend insisted on cheese. Another demanded boiled eggs. A third waved a pastry crust like a flag. The cook's own family had once spent twenty minutes debating whether a spoonful of mustard powder could be detected in the sauce. Fish pie, the cook realized, is less a recipe than a small parliament of decisions, each ingredient rising to claim the floor.

In Britain, fish pie is one of those dishes that can ignite fierce debate. One of the recipe's authors grew up there, so he knows the passions firsthand. The country is, relatively speaking, a small collection of islands, and the seafood of the North Sea is a cornerstone of its culinary heritage. Combine that with a climate befitting a nation at the same latitude as Greenland, and you have a perfect environment for dishes such as cod and chips, parceled salmon, and the aforementioned fish pie. Everyone has a notion of what makes the best version. Should it have cheese? What about boiled eggs? Pastry or potato crust? The answers multiply like fish in the sea.

There is an extra complication when adapting the dish to ingredients available in the United States. Whether a cook is on the West Coast, the East Coast, or somewhere in between, the fish at hand will differ. The cook can go wild with combinations, but the general rule is simple: start with a firm, white-fleshed fish that holds its shape during cooking and breaks into flaky pieces under a fork. Traditionally that fish is cod. Atlantic cod feeds the North Sea fishing industry that supplies the UK, while Pacific cod is more likely on the US West Coast. Hake, halibut, or Alaskan pollock also work. The best ally in this decision is the seafood store or the fish counter at the grocery. In 2026, sustainability advice continues to shift, so the cook should ask questions and consult current Seafood Watch guidance rather than assume one answer is permanent. Farmed Atlantic cod is often a reasonable buy, but casting a wider net is wise.

Cod and similar fish are mild, so the pie needs other varieties to add richness. Often that role is filled by salmon and a smoked fish such as haddock or mackerel. For simplicity, the cook used hot-smoked salmon, which single-handedly delivers both fatty richness and a deep, smoky flavor. Hot-smoked salmon is not the cold-smoked sliced lox that adorns a bagel. It is cooked through, flaky, and savory. A cook can buy it prepared, but smoking a fresh fillet at home saves money and adds a satisfying project to the day.

If the cook follows the DIY path, the first step is a partial cure. A full cure can take days, but this recipe only primes the outside layers of the fish and infuses flavor. The cook mixes sugar, kosher salt, black pepper, mustard powder, and lemon zest, then spreads the rub over a skin-on salmon fillet and refrigerates it for four to twelve hours. The cure clung to the salmon like a dry tide, drawing color and moisture toward the surface. Even after a few hours, the flesh turns from pink to a deeper red.

When ready to smoke, the cook wipes most of the rub off but does not rinse it. A smoker works, but so does a charcoal grill. The setup is simple: a foil pan of water, soaked wood chips, and indirect heat. Most woods are fine, though mesquite is best avoided because it can overpower the delicate flavors in the pie. The salmon smokes until it reaches 125°F (52°C) in the thickest part, then rests wrapped in foil for about twenty minutes. Residual heat carries it to medium, leaving it tender and juicy. Once cool, the cook removes skin and bones and flakes half the salmon into roughly one-inch pieces. The rest can become another meal.

For extra texture, the cook adds shrimp. Small shrimp overcook and turn rubbery, so medium or large shrimp are better. Jumbo shrimp can be cut into chunks slightly larger than bite-size. After cleaning them, the cook briefly soaks the shrimp in a brine of salt and baking soda for fifteen minutes. This small step helps keep them moist and firm during cooking.

The filling is essentially a leek, parsley, and cream sauce. Leeks deliver a milder oniony flavor than actual onions, which suits seafood better. The cook melts butter, softens the leeks without browning them, stirs in flour, then whisks in white wine, whole milk, and heavy cream. Parsley, chives, and finely chopped anchovy fillets go in at the end. The leeks softened in butter like a sharp-tongued argument slowly losing its edges. The sauce simmers until thick, then the cook folds in flaked smoked salmon, chunks of cod, and the brined shrimp.

For the topping, the cook chooses mashed potatoes rather than pastry. A puff pastry version can be excellent, but mash keeps the focus on the seafood and sauce. The potatoes are made fluffy but with a little less liquid than usual so the crust stays stable. The cook spreads the mash over the filling, covers the edges to prevent bubbling over, and creates a wavy texture with the back of a spoon. A few dabs of butter and a sprinkle of panko create a golden, crunchy top. A little Parmesan or Romano cheese is optional.

The assembled pie bakes at 375°F (190°C) for thirty to forty minutes, until the sauce bubbles and the top turns golden brown. The finished pie sat under its golden mash like a buttery weather map of a small country. It is comfort food with a coastline, rich but not heavy, smoky but still bright with parsley and leek.

1. Cure the salmon for four to twelve hours, then wipe off most of the rub.

2. Smoke the salmon to 125°F (52°C), rest it for twenty minutes, and flake half of it.

3. Brine the shrimp with salt and baking soda for at least fifteen minutes.

4. Make the leek and cream sauce, then gently fold in the seafood.

5. Transfer the filling to a buttered baking dish and top with mashed potatoes, panko, and butter.

6. Bake until bubbly and golden, then serve.

The cook did not claim this was the definitive fish pie. In 2026, with fish supplies and sustainability advice shifting, that title is more slippery than ever. The pie was a conversation starter, a way to gather people around a table and let them argue about crust and cheese while eating. The cook served it with a green salad and a quiet smile. The debate continued. The dish disappeared.