Sesame Crusted Albacore with Asparagus and Ginger

It's 8pm. A well-intentioned husband goes hunting at the local co-op and brings back sustainably fished albacore tuna, which you are pretty sure you don't like, but have resolved not to mention aloud. You have on hand some rice, assorted condiments, a head of garlic. And asparagus, because apparently Sacramento is convinced that it's spring. Really, life could be worse. But what do you do with the tuna?

Answer: This.*

*This, it turns out, is DELICIOUS.**
**Which means I was completely wrong about not liking tuna.***
***Unless you consider the fact that no restaurant at which I had tried tuna (and I had tried it numerous times) ever did anything like this to it.****
****But then you have to wonder: Why wouldn't you do this to tuna?*****
*****Have I mentioned before my inordinate fondness for footnotes?


Ingredients
Black Forbidden rice, cooked with a little sauteed onion (or sub brown rice)
10-11 oz. (about .6 lbs) thick-cut, sushi-grade albacore tuna
Olive oil
1/2 bunch thin asparagus or a little more, tough ends trimmed, cut at a diagonal into 1" pieces (or sub young green beans)
1 tbsp rice vinegar
2 tsp soy sauce
1/2 tsp toasted sesame oil
Black sesame seeds
Kosher salt
Freshy ground black pepper
1 clove garlic, smashed
1 tsp julienned fresh ginger

Take the tuna out of the fridge to temper. Sprinkle with salt, grind black pepper liberally over the top, and cover densely with sesame seeds.

Combine the soy sauce, rice vinegar, and sesame oil in a small dish. Heat a glug of olive oil in a nonstick pan over medium to medium-high heat. When hot, add the asparagus and toss to coat lightly with the oil. Cook for several minutes, tossing or stirring every 2 minutes or so, until lightly browned on at least one side and al dente (a fork should insert smoothly, without it feeling either crunchy and raw or mushy and overly soft). Add the soy sauce mixture, stir immediately, and then turn the heat off as it simmers and begins to evaporate. Let simmer for another 10 seconds or so, then decant the asparagus and sauce into a bowl and set aside. Wipe the pan out lightly (and carefully) with a paper towel if there are drops of soy sauce remaining.

Add a glug of olive oil to the pan and turn the heat back on to medium. Add the smashed garlic clove and cook for a minute or so, pressing it into the pan, until it just begins to soften. Add the ginger, stir once or twice, then add the tuna. Cook for a couple minutes per side or until it browns, then flip. As the ginger begins to turn golden, you can fish it out of the pan and either put it on top of the fish or add it to the bowl of asparagus.

When the tuna is browned on the outside but still completely rare in the middle (or about two minutes away from being however cooked you want it), remove from the pan and place on a cutting board. Let sit for a minute. Meanwhile, add the asparagus to the pan to reheat for a minute, stirring, then turn the heat off.

Slice the albacore into half-inch pieces. Serve over a bed of rice (it will warm through from the heat of the rice, which is why you want to stop cooking it a bit early) and spoon the asparagus and sauce over the top. Serve immediately.

Serves 2. Pairs well with an ice cold cup of Onigoroshi sake, available at the Tokyo Fish Market in Berkeley, among other places.

Wilted Greens Salad with Tuna

The problem with brunch -- and I must admit I feel slightly sacrilegious uttering those words, so allow me to rephrase -- one tiny, insignificant, easily airbrushed imperfection on the face of the deeply beloved meal of brunch (ah, much better) is that it's one meal instead of two.

I bemoan this fact not because of my intrinsically greedy, supersized-endless-refill-loving American ways, but because as someone who eats like a hummingbird (that's the polite term my husband has developed to mean "constantly"), having one big meal all at once can't quite take the place of smaller portions spread out over the day. Now if it's a late brunch, this is easily remedied by a surreptitious cup of coffee and handful of fruit while, for example, your house guests slumber away unknowingly upstairs. But if it's an earlyish brunch, you're left with this awkwardly-sized stretch between french toast and dinnertime that's too small for lunch but too big for nothing.

Enter the Goldilocks Brinner. Large enough to feel like a meal, and light enough not to interfere with dinnertime appetites: just right for any fellow foodie hummingbirds out there.

Ingredients
1 can albacore tuna, drained
Medium, good quality curry powder
Handful flat leaf parsley, chopped
Salt & black pepper
Small handful sliced almonds
Olive oil
Yellow and/or black mustard seeds
Several large handfuls of spicy greens (e.g., half baby arugula and half mustard frisee -- something with a bit of a kick), very coarsely chopped/sliced

Combine the tuna with a bit of olive oil in a small bowl, then stir in half a spoonful or so of curry powder, the parsley, a pinch of salt, and ground black pepper to taste. Mix well, then add the almonds and stir gently a couple times to combine.

Meanwhile, heat a bit of olive oil in a wide saute pan over medium heat. When hot, add the mustard seeds and stir once or twice. After about 20 seconds, add the greens and toss to combine with the mustard seeds. Saute for a minute or two until they just begin to wilt, then cover the pan, turn off the heat, and let steam for a minute more until just wilted.

Arrange a bed of the greens on plates (don't preheat the plates -- you want the greens to go ahead and cool to room temperature), sprinkle with just a little olive oil, and top with tuna.

Serves 2 for a very light, halfway-between-brunch-and-an-early-dinner sort of meal.

Nicoise(ish) Salad

Leftover quail eggs, green and yellow beans, and baby greens in the fridge, and a toasty 106 degrees outside? Clearly the evening called for a cool summertime salad and a distinct lack of grocery-shopping. I've never found Nicoise salads to be particularly appealing (partly because I don't like most olives, so here I substituted a green variety that isn't pickled, which makes it taste much more olive oil-esque and less olive-y), but this adulterated version was pretty darn good.

 

Ingredients
Mixed baby greens & (optional) a handful of baby arugula
1 1/2 cups cooked cannellini beans* (or substitute canned)
1 can (hook-and-line/troll caught) albacore tuna, drained
2-3 shallots, halved and thinly sliced
1 tsp black mustard seeds
Several handfuls green and/or yellow beans
4 quail eggs (or sub 1 regular egg, boiled & sliced)
2-3 tbsp good quality extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp sherry vinegar
Zest of 1 lemon
Sliced olives (green or black)
1 tbsp chopped parsley, plus a little extra for garnish
2 sprigs oregano, finely chopped
Salt & freshly ground black pepper

In a wide pan, heat a little olive oil over medium-high heat. Add shallot and mustard seeds and saute for 1-2 minutes till soft, then add green beans and continue to saute, stirring, until just tender (after a couple minutes, you can add a tbsp of water and cover for a minute or two to cook them quickly without letting them dry out). Set aside to cool.



In a small pot, bring water to a simmer. Carefully poke holes in the big end of each quail egg with a pushpin (start very gently and twist the pin back and forth, just until it goes through the shell). Lay the eggs in a slotted spoon, then lower into the simmering water for just under 3 minutes. Raise spoon out of water, drain, and run under cool water for about 20 seconds. Peel each quail egg (by far the best way I found to do this was to gently crack the shell on all sides to smithereens, then gently peel while holding the egg under a light drizzle of cold water). Cut each egg in half and set aside. (As far as we can tell, after eating this salad, quail eggs were invented so that one could eat a medium-boiled egg with some yolk in every bite. If you by any chance feel exceedingly warm and fuzzy toward egg yolks, which certain authors of certain blogs do, quail eggs would be a good thing to track down somewhere and incorporate into some sort of arrangement where they go into your mouth, and you smile in blissful happiness.)

Combine tuna with a little olive oil in a bowl, then add cannellini beans and a little salt and pepper (unless your tuna and/or beans are already very salty -- if so, make sure to taste before you salt more).

Whisk olive oil, sherry vinegar, lemon zest, oregano, parsley, salt, and pepper together in a small bowl.

Toss the greens with a couple spoonfuls of dressing and arrange as a bed on each plate. Top with green beans on one side, white beans and tuna on the other. Drizzle with 1-2 more spoonfuls of dressing per plate. Sprinkle extra shallots from the pan over the top, along with the olives and extra parsley, and arrange the eggs on the top. Garnish with a sprig of parsley or oregano, and serve. (If it tastes at all bland, it needs a bit more salt and/or pepper to help the flavors pop out.)

Serves 2.


*Rinse and pick through dried beans carefully, then soak overnight in cold water, or put in a pot with enough water to cover by 1-2 inches and bring to a boil, simmer for 2-3 minutes, then turn off heat and let soak for an hour. Then, put in a pot with fresh water (about an inch above the beans), a bay leaf, and a few whole peeled garlic cloves, bring to a boil, and simmer for 60-90 minutes until tender.