Not just for sandwiches: fresh tuna

One of the standards that anyone my age, or thereabouts, remembers from childhood, is tuna fish sandwiches. Soft, messy sandwiches with canned tuna, mayonnaise, usually celery, and maybe other stuff. On soft white sandwich bread, or if you were fancy, rye bread.

Admit it: you loved them. And you miss them. I do. One of the things that the "food revolutions" of the last thirty years have succeeded in just about eliminating are those wonderful, messy sandwiches. They were also cheap. I remember being able to get a sandwich, chips and a soda and spending a dollar or so. I was in my local deli this morning and saw that the tuna sandwich was 8 dollars. But it was on ciabatta. And it was "gourment, mayonnaise free" tuna salad. "

No thanks.

I don't want to blame any of us who grew up on those sandwiches with the plight of bluefin tuna today - we weren't using bluefin in those sandwiches, rest assured- but tuna is a fish that has been overhunted, and some species are in fact at the verge of crashing to the point of extinction. Bluefin is one of those. The numbers are scary, and depressing. So when you eat tuna out, please, to make Annalena a slightly happier woman, ask what kind of tuna you're getting. Most NY restaurants are respecting the "ban" or "boycot" and don't serve it, but it doesn't hurt to ask.

Other species are more plentiful, and the one that is showing up in NY waters right now, is yellowfin. It has to be distinguished from "yellowtail," and I'm sure that if I had to, I could tell them apart, but I can't explain how. I DO ask the "not so ancient mariner" Phil or his crew what type they brought in when they have it, and they always look at me like "Oh, are we going over this AGAIN?" Well, Annalena's mind is not as flexible as it used to be. So yes, we are. Remember, Annalena is bringing you lunch later that day. Be nice to her.

So, the water has gotten warmer, and tuna are in local waters. And that means we're eating it. Not often, perhaps once every two or three weeks, but we are eating it. And I want to talk about cooking it, because I fear that many people don't eat fresh tuna because it scares them.

When you see a good, really fresh piece of tuna, it's dark pink or red. This is a result of the musculature of the fish. These are fast moving, deep water fish. They need strong muscles for swimming, and deep water diving requires blood that holds a lot of oxygen. That's where the red comes from. The older a slice of tuna is, the drier it is (a sign you shouldn't buy it is curling at the edges), and the red begins to change to an ugly dark purple (another sign you shouldn't buy it. The third, and final sign is: does it smell bad?).

The dark red color , and the dense texture of the fish should give you a hint as to how to cook it: I tell people to think of tuna as "swimming steak." Yes, it's kind of gross, but it tells you how you should cook it.

Annalena likes her meat and tuna close to raw (let's be careful here, boys). In a restaurant, if she's eating tuna, and they ask "how would you like it?" Annalena will frequently say something like "hold a match to it and put it on the plate." After the server gives her a look like she's crazy, Guy will step in and say "she means cook it blue." Blue is cold at the center, charred on the outside. I usually can't get it that way, but anything beyond rare is too cooked for me. Other people prefer it more cooked. Then there are people like my friend Par, from Sweden, who eat it well done.

There are many theories as to why people eat fish like tuna well done. The most convincing one to me is that it's a way of making sure that anything that might be questionable about the fish is cooked to the point where you can't smell it, and it's not a problem anymore. But it may also, simply be a question of taste. Italians, for example, and meditteranean French, prepare tuna in a way that I find interesting and tasty, but extravagant. The tuna is poached, at a low, warm temperature, for a long time, in olive oil. This cooks the fish nearly all the way through. The olive oil keeps it moist, but you lose that redness that many of us like. I DO like this preparation in salads, or in combination with vegetables, but as a plain piece of fish, rare for me , please.

So, this is how I cook my tuna, with some variations. And it's easy. I like to get slices of tuna ('steaks' if you will), that are about half an inch to 3/4 inch thick. This is about half a pound. I can easily eat the whole piece, and usually do, but this is big enough to slice nicely, if you're going to use the tuna for some of the things I talk about below. I heat up a grill pan (you can use a frying pan), and what I do is brush olive oil on both the g rill pan AND the fish itself. I also salt the fish, but at the last minute. And I salt it heavily, because most of the salt is going to fall off.

I test the grill pan to see if a drop of water skittles off of it quickly. If it does, it's hot enough to cook the fish. And it HAS to be hot enough to keep the integrity of the slice. If it is not, the fish will stick, and break apart. It usually doesn't take more than two minutes for the tuna to cook enough on a side for me, and then I turn it, for another two minutes. You can watch the cooking process by looking at the slice from the side, as it cooks. It moves through the fish, sort of the way water moves up fabric, as the color goes from red, to pink, to brown. You have to be the judge here. DO keep in mind that as the color changes, the fish is also cooking on the inside, so you're getting some slow cooking there, too.

Just like a steak, when you take the tuna off of the grill, be it after four minutes, or ten minutes, etc, let it rest a few minutes to recover its juices. Now is the time to add ground pepper if you like (I do). If you're going to slice it, slice it across the grain. What do I mean by this? You'll see the tuna have "lines" that run from one end to the other. What you want to do is make your slices run perpendicular to those lines. You're doing this to sever muscle. Muscle is tough and chewy, and if you try to chew on a long slice, you'll be getting tuna chewing gum. By cutting against the grain, you sever the muscle and make it easier to chew and enjoy.

For me, a spritz of lemon, is all that I want on this. Sometimes, I will make a quick sauce of green, fresh herbs: cilantro, parsley, lemon balm, herbs that are fresh and bright go well with tuna. You can also put the slices on top of a green salad, for a lovely dish, or combine it with the classic ingredients of a salade nicoise (I believe they are cooked green beans, olives, and hard boiled eggs, but this is one of those classics that has been reinvented so many times, Annalena cannot keep her head from spinning). You could, if you felt like you wanted a heavier sauce, make a homemade mayonnaise or an aioli, and put that down with the tuna as well. I find that especially delicious if the tuna is being served cold.

You could also - sigh - take the rare slices of tuna, and put them on some good bread, and make yourself a sandwich with the fixings. Annalena admits to a weakness for having this with bacon and avocado slices. Certainly not your low calorie lunch, especially when she slathers home made mayonnaise on it. But oh, hell, is that a sandwich that makes you think "you know, if sex were this good, I would NEVER get out of bed."

Did I just write that? Oh, dear. Someone has got the SPH's today (screaming purple hornies). Seriously, it is a wonderful sandwich if you are feeling ambitious enough to make it. And if it manages to get you horizontal, from vertical, well, one of Annalena's tasks has been accomplished.

So, find out what kind of tuna you're getting. Skip the bluefin, go for yellow, and cook it simple. Whether you want it rare, or well done, it's very easy to do. Have it once in a while, but do have it. And if you have an interesting, delicious way you prepare it, let Annalena know.