Languor in the kitchen, salsa and chefs who forget themselves. Two minute tuna with salsa

It's one of those days that are too good. It really is. There is brilliant, gorgeous sunshine, wonderful temperatures, bright skies. It's the kind of day that makes me think of the sound of one, lovely violin playing a long, sweet chord as a bow is drawn across the instrument carefully, slowly, with the gorgeous intonation of an expert. I hear those chords in Strauss pieces a lot, and during these slow, gorgeous summer days that are "too good," I hear them a lot. I hear musical tones that differ during days as the days differ, a lot. There's probably a condition associated with that. Scriabin used to see colors when certain chords were played. Maybe it's similar.
So why do I say "Too good?' Well, it's like an ingredient that is so perfect, so beautiful that you don't want to use it because it's "too good." Somehow, you'll spoil it if you do. So you l eave it alone until - you guessed it - it loses that goodness, spoils and you have to throw it out.

There's something vaguely Asian about that, isn't there? Something slightly Japanese? So a day like this, is too good to use, too good to spend time in, because somehow, participating in it will spoil it. TOO many people are out. There are TOO many things to do. And you overload. And that, is when the languor of a beautiful day settles in.

I would bet that there is a link between age and that feeling. I fully expect that my younger friends are all out on this day, doing something as simple as sunning, or perhaps shopping, or roller blading, who knows what? For them, there is the simple joy of "being here now," which try as I may to recall, is very difficult to do.

During those languid days, the cooking gets a little languid too. I look for things that somehow participate in that feeling, but don't make me work that hard to get there. Because I am languid too. It's time for rose' wine. Just as it is. "grape soda for grown ups" as I sometimes put it. I almost want a straw with it, and if I could just have that, and a bowl of apricots for dinner, thank you very much, I'll be fine.

Ah, but of course, we can't. So here's a dish for that feeling. You can do it now, and you should.

It involves a treatment of tuna which, honestly, I believe is fairly standard and well known. But it was repeated in a cookbook of a chef whom I do not like. In fact I despise him. I find him arrogant, mean, snotty, snooty, and way too full of himself? Any idea who I mean? I'm not going to tell you. Let me just say he's an Italian chef with a ponytail who could stand to lose some weight.

In any event, in his book, he comments on tuna to heat up a grill, and then cook it one minute per side if you like it very rare, two minutes a side if you like it a bit more cooked, and if you're going to go for more t han three minutes, open a can of the stuff instead. I agree with him on a lot of his comments on cooking, and very much so here (why is he such a pig?). If you are going to cook a tuna steak, don't cook it too much. You will spoil it.

Even as I say that, I have to admit that this is a matter of taste. My Swedish friend Par is confused by the American obsession with raw fish. He does not eat sushi, and when we go out, if he orders tuna, and he asks for it well done, there is always the second look and the "excuse me?" from the restaurant staff. But as I understand it, this is how they eat it in Sweden. Ah me.

Ok, so here's the tuna part of the meal, but don't do it first. Make the salsa. It's coming. Get a frying pan, or a ridged grill nice and hot. Before you do, rub some oil over the surface. While it's heating up, pat some tuna steaks (about 1/3 -1/2 inchi thick) dry, and salt and pepper them. If you like, dip them in some sesame seeds too, pressing to get them to adhere. Then, put the steaks on the pan or grill, high heat, for two minutes. Turn them, do the same thing on the other side, and TAKE THEM OUT OF THE PAN. Let them rest for a minute or two and then slice them, on the diagonal, just like you would a London broil.

You serve this with a salsa and here, I am going to fess up. I developed this, after I developed an addiction to a wonderful salsa you can get from "American Spoon" one of my favorite prepared food purveyors. Theirs is a peach and cherry salsa, with different spices. I love it. I could eat it on bread. But make it yourself and play with it. You need a cup or so of pitted sour cherries. If the season is over, as it soon will be, use frozen ones, thawed of course. Combine them with one, drop dead ripe peach, that has been sliced and chopped. Put them in a bowl with a teaspoon of salt and a tablespoon of sugar. Add two chopped green chilis to it. You pick the heat. You know what's too hot for you and what's too "cool." Leave the seeds and veins in if you like, or take them out. Just chop them nice and fine. If you happen to have some left over purple onion around, chop that up and put it in too. Finally, if you like, and happen to have some fresh herbs - parsley, cilantro, oregano, all come to mind - mix them in, too, and just let that sit while you're prepping cooking and slicing the tuna. It will be "cooked" when you're done.

When you're ready to serve, put a little of the salsa under the fish and then put the rest of it out, for folks to put on the fish as they like - and they will.

Now, keeping with a theme that we have had develop here, unintentionally (I SWEAR), go back through this recipe, and look for fat. Where was it? You oiled the pan, and that was it.

If you serve this with fresh corn on the cob that you've cooked gently and don't add butter (which I never do. In my opinion, fresh corn needs nothing but salt), and some asparagus, perhaps with a bit of butter, but not much, you've got a delicious, very languid kind of meal that allows you to drink all the rose' ( a GREAT wine with this meal), you want.

Put some music on. Perhaps Britten's "Ode to Music," or in a darker mode, some of the Strauss tone poems, or just some Brazilian jazz. Anything you like. Make enough to invite some friends over, and maybe take a stroll afterwards, or have an extra glass of wine on your roof and watch the sun set or the moon come out. Get languid. Now's the time