'Fancy' Tuna Salad. Tower optional.

So, this post was supposed to be about tuna and avocado. Instead, as you can clearly see, it's just about tuna. I sliced open my lonely avocado that I had patiently let ripen past the baseball stage--a rookie error in the UK, I soon found out--and found it riddled with fat brown veins.

I suppose one lives, one learns, and one gets over the fact that avocados here will never be as good as in the ones in the States.

I digress. Imagine gem-like pieces of avocado among the tomato, ok?

In high school, my French host mother in Biarritz often served me half and avocado with its cavity filled to the brim with tuna and mustardy mayonnaise. I'm sure the mayonnaise was homemade, and I shudder to think how little I appreciated it then. I have only recently warmed to it (I know, I know...), and I still can't stand it in its unadulterated form; chuck it in artichoke dip, with mountains of garlic in aioli, or pair it with ample ketchup and mustard for dipping with fries, and I'm very content to eat it.

As for this tuna salad, I was trying to keep things light, so I used a low-fat creamy salad dressing. Really, any vinaigrette or dressing would work. Mirin, rice wine vinegar and sesame oil could be good, as well. What I found really made this good was the minced coriander, chili, and yellow pepper. Along with some lime juice and a dash of Worcestershire sauce, it was refreshing and clean tasting, rather than overly creamy or heavy.

I can't lie; I missed the avocado, but mixed together with the tomato and served with some wholegrain pumpkin seed crispbread, it was dinner. Not so bad for cleaning out the cupboards on a Monday night.

Home Sweet (Provencal) Home

In celebration of the next, post-dissertation chapter of life (insert giddy clapping here), I have given myself a three-week pause at home to soak up the dog days of summer in the land of Lynne Rossetto Kasper.

This morning heralded the true culinary rooster cry of home with the smell of American bacon sizzling and blueberry pancakes browning on the griddle (which has approximately 20 years of untampered seasoning to it, save for the odd venison incident of 1995 when I offered it up for use in our French class ‘banquet’).

I’ll take this moment to respond to ‘Anonymous’ and his caviling of my dealings with bacon in my last post. ‘Anonymous’, you do put forth a strong argument for reasons why Americans tend to have a less-than-ideal experience with British back bacon. I think in the pork battle of America v. Albion, however, this round comes down to the same factors that make or break any dining experience: one must start, no matter what, with quality ingredients and implement optimal technique and equipment. I am 100% with you on the ‘carbon caked grill pan’ for use with both varieties. As for the differences in fat distribution (which ultimately make for the variation of flavour and texture), I think this is going to have to be a case where we agree to disagree.

And, so, back to Minnesota…

My second night home I was craving some grilled fish, and so we decided to make a summer Niçoise with leftover vegetables and new potatoes. To me, a Niçoise represents all that is good when the mercury rises—gorgeous grilled fish that is light yet packed with ‘carbon caked’ goodness; the June tomatoes are just on the verge of coming into July perfection; lettuce studded with green onion and parsley is clean on the palette, and a creamy white wine in the glass brings it all together. And it’s not too sore on the eyes, either!

We started with a beautiful, sashimi-grade yellow fin tuna steak, which we cut into thick strips and marinated for 15-20 minutes in salt, pepper, and extra virgin olive oil infused with Meyer lemons.

We then skewered each strip with two thin bamboo skewers (which had been soaking in water so as not to combust on the grill) and grilled on the trusty Weber charcoal grill for 2 minutes on each side. So simple and so tasty.

There were some less traditional additions, such as carrot, asparagus and beetroot, but that's what was at hand.

The joy from splurging on good quality tuna cannot be underestimated. The wonderful thing about a Niçoise is that if one throws a teaspoon of tradition to the wind, it's entirely cost-effective as well as delicious and healthy; the cost of the tuna is more than offset by using whatever produce you happen to have around. Take a rummage through the crisper and throw any root or tough veggies in the steamer with your potatoes (carrots, beetroot, asparagus) and you've suddenly found use for those bits of green onion, celery, or tomato that would have otherwise met their demise in the bin.

Ca ne mange pas de pain!