Tuna salad with emotional baggage

Yellow fin tuna

Who knew that the subject of tuna salad was fraught with so much emotion! Yet a long—and I do mean long—thread on the Facebook New York Times Cooking Community page demonstrates the intensity of feelings. As someone who has eaten tuna all my life, staring with plain with lemon and progressing to salad, I was amazed at the variety of suggestions. And the passion behind some choices. One woman wrote that she knew tuna salad would be an emotional and deeply triggering topic. She did? I had no idea.

The big thing seems to be the binder—and mayonnaise wins over Miracle Whip hands down. People who don’t like Miracle Whip were not iffy about it—they were downright intense. Like never, never, never speak those words. The second big choice was water pack vs. oil pack. For years I’ve sought out the best water pack I could get—I now order it from a cannery in Oregon, as I’ve said. But a woman from Oregon wrote that they know tuna should be packed in oil; otherwise your salad gets watery. I will admit that my friend Betty makes the best tuna ever with oi-packed, hard-boiled egg, sweet pickle (not relish), and onion. No lemon, and that surprises me.

Mayonnaise, onion, lemon, seem to be the usual, with the frequent addition of hard-boiled eggs, pickle (some choose sweet, some choose dill). A few add mustard—I’ve tried a bit of Dijon, and it does add a nice spark.

But some unusual additions: panko (doesn’t it get soggy?), fish sauce (really?), jalopeno (okay, I don’t like peppers much), olives, curry, Old Bay seasoning, raisins, and carrots (shredded we hope). A suggestion I intend to try—a pinch of sugar to lessen any bitterness, not that I find tuna salad bitter, but it might act as sugar does in a tomato sauce. My mom said it rounds it off, and I was never sure what that meant but it seemed to be a good thing.

In the United Kingdom, wrote one woman, they put corn nibletts in tuna salad and serve it in a “potato jacket”—your imagination can probably supply that. A man wrote he marinates a tuna loin overnight in herbs, olives and EVOO, bakes it and then, I suppose, flakes it—or maybe he slices it and isn’t talking about salad at all.

A local restaurant serves a “deconstructed” tuna salad—but to me, it’s regular tuna salad, with slices of cheese and tomato and melon on the plate. The salad itself isn’t deconstructed.

This thread went on for days and weighed on my mind, so I made tuna salad today and decided to be bold and add pickle. But I didn’t have Betty’s sweet pickles, so I put in sweet relish. It was okay, but I prefer my basic which is chopped scallions, salt and pepper, lots of lemon, and mayonnaise to bind. I’m a purist. And I have two sons-in-law who won’t either one touch tuna salad. I worry about what they’re missing.

That was my big preoccupation today, but I remembered what I was going to mention yesterday. Several years ago, my son Jamie registered me for 23andMe—the results were a bit skewed from what I expected, and I was disappointed—not much Scot in this proud Scot. But yesterday unexpectedly I got a summary—I am something like 99.9% from the northern and western part of Europe, mostly United Kingdom, followed by France and Germany (I have always thought I was half Scot, half German). Other things were minimal, and my Neanderthal heritage had shrunk to “trace ancestry” which I suppose is a good thing. Being part Neanderthal is hardly something one wants to put on a resume.

Lazy day—other than doing quite a few housekeeping chores like emptying garabage, hanging up clothes, mopping up the muddy footprints (I created more streaks—mopping is not one of my talents and it’s hard to do seated in a walker). But I devoted some time to an absorbing mystery I’m reading. Imagine my shock when I checked the Amazon reviews and found I’d written one in 2017! And here I am reading it again as though for the first time. I’m not sure if that’s a tribute to the author or not. When I was at TCU Press, a member of our editorial board rejected a mystery because, he said, mysteries are forgotten the minute you finish the last page. I would like to think that’s not true and that, instead, my re-reading is a tribute to the author’s skill at drawing me into a plot. I won’t reveal the title or author so as not to prejudice you.

Here we go into another week, this predicted to be chilly but no cold with slight chances of rain until the end of the week. Hope it’s a good one for everyone.

Raiding the kitchen cupboard

Several years ago I came across a book called Jam Today: A Diary of Cooking with What You’ve Got. The concept was that you should look at your cupboard, refrigerator, and freezer when planning meals, rather than rushing out and buying more ingredients. The author had one huge advantage that most of us don’t have: her husband had an enormous vegetable garden, and she could pick whatever she wanted, fresh for dinner.

One important takeaway from the book, for me, was the name of the cannery from which I now order tuna—Pisces Fishing Vessel in Coos Bay, Oregon. They fish without nets so the dolphins swim alongside their boat, and the tuna is cooked once in the can, as opposed to most commercial tuna which is cooked twice. It simply tastes better. When my oldest son turned fifty, the birthday present he wanted was a case of tuna. I obliged.

I confess that even with my limited space, I’m bad about stockpiling things and buying new because I saw a recipe that intrigued me. The result is I have a large kitchen drawer full of pasta, canned tuna and salmon, and a variety of other things. I’m even bad about ordering fresh vegetables from Imperfect Produce and then not always getting around to using them.

Yesterday a friend from a town an hour away asked if I was available for supper tonight, and because she’s one of my special people, I immediately said “Of course.” I know she’d like to take me to dinner, because I feed her whenever she comes to town, and she feels it’s her turn. But if we eat here, we get a better visit, and Jordan can join us. Tonight Christian and Jacob also both wandered in.

But my larder was bare, or so I thought. What to cook? I had two smallish summer squashes from Imperfect Produce, and I had pork sausage patties in the freezer—I portion out a lb. of pork sausage and freeze it in individual patties. So I decided to stuff some squash.

I parboiled it and let it cool. Then I halved each squash, scooped out the center and chopped it. In a small skillet, I broke up two sausage patties and browned them, then sautéed chopped scallions and diced celery with the sausage and added the squash meat. Had to add just a bit of olive oil. I stuffed the squash halves with this mixture and refrigerated them until we were ready for supper. Then I topped them with grated cheddar and panko crumbs and baked them.

I had leftover corn salad, and Linda brought marinated asparagus from Eatsi’s. Altogether it made a pretty plate, and she—who could easily be a vegetarian—kept saying, “I love this dinner.” That’s all a cook needs to hear. A bonus: daughter Jordan, who eschews squash, nibbled on a half and loved it. When I said to her that the squash had a bit of sweetness about it, she agreed. Now if I could get Christian to try it….and then Jacob….

A world without dogs would be empty

How much of a dog person are you? How much do you worry about their sensitivity and feelings? Jordan arrived about six tonight bringing her two Cavalier King Charles Spaniels hoping to begin to acclimate them to what will be their new home. Sophie had just begun to chew on her dental chew (she gets one every night). This was the thickest big one she had ever had, and chewing on it was a long and hard job. She chew, and watch Cricket and June Bug warily, as though they’d come over and steal her chew. They wouldn’t. They don’t particularly like chews, and their temperament is far from confrontational. But Sophie was ready just in case.

At one point, David (one of my "other sons") put the chew on the buffet, at my request. Sophie came looking for it, sniffed it out, climbed on a footstool, and grabbed it off the buffet. David watched and said, “I’m impressed.” I told him poodles and border collies are two of the smartest breeds, and she is a dynamite combination.

Sophie is such an important part of my days since I’m home all the time. She gives me th companionship I crave. She sleeps on her chair in my office—that old, ratty, filthy chair is going to the cottage with me, because where else would she sleep? Maybe we can wash the slipcover. When I nap or at night, Sophie visits me in my bed. Sometimes she stays a while, and sometimes not.

In the late afternoon when folks gather for happy hour, she thinks it’s time to eat and demands her chew treat and her dinner. But she won’t eat her dinner alone in the office—she’s a sociable creature and wants folks around when she eats. Tonight, Cricket and June Bug made no attempt on her food, though Soph would eat and look around warily. It may take more for Sophie to acclimate than the two spaniels.

Tonight was a light summer supper. Jordan makes superb tuna, with the tuna I order specially from Oregon. I told David I’d be interested if he could tell the difference—he’s a confirmed tuna lover but eats Chicken of the Sea albacore. He took one bit of our tuna and said, “Oh my gosh, yes!” It really is soooo good. Now I have lunches for the next few days.

Tonight the spaniels will sleep in their shared crate in the sunroom, and Sophie will have free rein in the rest of the house. Jordan objected to that and said the first time she barks, she’s locked up in the office. My argument is that if she barks, she’s protecting us against something and we need to pay attention. Authorities say a dog that barks is one of the best protections against burglaries. We’ll see what Sophie does tonight—and what Jordan does.

I love dogs—did you guess?

News of the day...such as it is

I am so tired of seeing the McKinney pool party or the Duggars on the news--fortunately both seem to be fading though I'm sure the long tail will surface. Now there's that Congressman who declares disabled people are a drain on society. Help? Do I have to throw away my handicapped tag?
On a more personal note, for the oldsters among my readers (you don't have to confess publicly), Amazon is running a joint promotion with AARP for discounts on tons of books. Began last march and continues through October--up to 50% on some books. The good news as far as I'm concerned is that my novel, Ballad for Sallie, is among the titles discounted this month. Ballad for Sallie is set in Fort Worth toward the end of the 19th century and includes good guys/bad guys Luke Short and Longhair Jim Courtwright plus a schoolteacher just come from the East to the Wild West, all narrated by Sallie, a child of the streets. Written years ago but I still have a soft spot in my heart for this book.
To find out about this and other titles, here are some links:

• eBook discount page and terms: https://www.amazon.com/gp/feature.html?docId=1001927991
• Pbook/Audiobook discount page and terms: https://www.amazon.com/gp/feature.html/?ie=UTF8&docId=1002994231

 

As far as I'm concerned, the other news of the day is pretty mundane. It was a grocery and a catch up on email day. Did have lunch with a good friend at LaMadelleine (I love their tuna sandwiches) and we went to Sprouts, a grocery I've never explored. I had forgotten to get canned pie filling (that's a whole 'nother story) but all they had was pumpkin--wouldn't make a good fruit salad. We zoomed by Albertson's on the way home and I got a large jar of peach pie filling. We'll see.

Tonight I made myself tuna pasties--essentially biscuit dough from a tube (am I the one who eschews prepared foods?) filled with a tuna/grated cheese/chopped celery/parsley/sour cream filling. The recipe is so old I couldn't even find what magazine it came from or a date. So I feel free to share it:

Heat oven to 400. Mix 1 can albacore tuna in water, drained, with 1 c. shredded cheddar (I like sharp), 1/4 c. diced celery, 1 Tbsp. chopped parsley, and 1/3 c. sour cream. Separate biscuits and spread half into ovals as big as you can--top with 1 good Tbsp. of filling and then top with another  elongated biscuit (recipe says roll them out but I just press with my fingers). Seal the edges and brush the tops with melted butter. Bake at 400 on ungreased cookie sheet for 15 minutes--unless you use an insulated cookie sheet put another pan under it to prevent burning the bottoms.

Strange thing: we hear these days that packaging is cheating us--there's less food in many containers than before. This recipe says serves six, which would mean 12 biscuits. But there were only ten biscuits in the tube, so I came out with five pasties. Good enough for me, but it struck me as part of the changing times.

Maybe that goes along with my comments posted today on Vicki Batman's blog about the weird foods I eat: https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8535414384309157179&postID=6709800340457246816&page=1&token=1434162340453 The comments are more interesting than my post.

Variations on the ubiquitous tuna

I love tuna fish. In salad, in a casserole, plain. It's high on the list of my favorite foods, and every time I hear a doctor advise, "Eat more fish," I gloat a bit and think, "I already do." But I fix it a lot of different ways.
Most people groan at the thought of a tuna casserole, that hangover from the fifties when women were housewives and stayed home to cook. I have a killer recipe.

Tuna casserole

1 cup white wine
Assorted dry herbs
1 can mushroom soup
1 7 oz. can tuna
1 stalk celery
half of a small onion
Olive oil
One starch--rice or pasta, cooked
One  vegetable--I favor frozen green peas
Salt and pepper to taste
Maybe a dash of Worcestershire
1 can French's fried onions

Bring the wine to a boil in saucepan. Throw in a handful of assorted herbs--thyme, basil, oregano, tarragon, whatever strikes your fancy. I'd advise against using Mexican spices though. Boil hard until herbs turn black and wine is reduced a bit.
Meanwhile sauté celery and onion in a small amount of olive oil. Add soup, tuna,, and pasta or rice.
Season to taste. Put into ovenproof dish and top with fried onions.
Bake at 350 until casserole is bubbly and onions are browned--20-30 minutes.

And tuna salad doesn't have to be lemon juice, onion, tuna, celery and mayo (though I love that). Sometimes I put the tuna in a mini-processor and flake it; then I add juice of a whole lemon, a good squirt of anchovy paste, one scallion, chopped, and just enough may to bind but not make it soupy.

Another way I like tuna is with grated cheddar. This is meant as a filling for pasties--and you can do that by separating crescent rolls and filling each with a bit of salad; seal tightly; brush tops with egg white, and bake at 400 for 15 minutes. But I like the filling plain:

1 7 oz. can tuna, drained
1 cup shredded sharp cheddar
1/4 cup diced celery
1/3 cup sour cream--or you can stir in a bit of mayo

And finally southwestern tuna is a favorite of mine:

I use this as a dip, served either with crackers or tortilla chips (the good strong kind), but I long ago lost the recipe, so I kind of recreate it each time.

7½-oz. can albacore tuna

Juice of 1 lime (a good juicy one)
2 Tbsp. chopped cilantro
1 Tbsp. capers
¼ c. chopped celery
¼ c. chopped red onion
Pinch of cumin
Mayonnaise to bind
1 can chopped chilies (Use your own judgment about canned chilies or a chopped jalapeño—I like the canned.)

Disclaimer: I always use canned white albacore, and I order it from the Pisces cannery in Oregon where it is canned and then cooked, instead of being cooked twice. So much better than the standard brands. You can only buy it by the case, but if you have a tuna-loving friend it works out fine and you'd be amazed at how fast it goes. For ordering information, leave your email in a comment.