I am shocked – shocked, I tells ya – by some of the abominable suggestions regarding the making and consumption of tuna salad. I am here to enlighten and impart wisdom, so listen up.
In some of my experimentation with tuna salad, I once followed a recipe that involved adding some type of relish – I don’t remember if it was sweet or dill or whatever, but I used what was recommended. It practically ruined the tuna salad. I think I did make a sandwich or two out of it but it was borderline inedible. No kind of relish belongs in tuna salad, and no @LSLGuy, not dill relish, either. Dill – actual dill – is important in chicken salad, but no such thing belongs in tuna salad.
The best tuna salad I’ve ever had comes from the little deli I always rave about. It doesn’t have an ingredients list so it’s hard to tell what’s in it, but there’s nothing obviously identifiable in it except good tuna, mayo, and the always-essential chopped green onion. Like a good pasta sauce, simplicity is key here.
As for what to have it with, there’s only One True Way. The proper tuna salad sandwich must be made with fresh white bread, none of your fancy stuff. It’s all about delicate textures and delicate flavours. Both slices must be well buttered, and one slice well slathered with Hellmann’s mayo.
The next and final question is what to have to accompany the proper tuna salad sandwich. The answer is: a tomato-based soup or beverage. This can be tomato soup, a tomato bisque, or a tomato beverage. If you want to be fancy, a lobster-tomato bisque brings together two complementary seafoods. And of course when it comes to a beverage, the noble Caesar is de rigueur at chez Wolfpup, bringing together the tuna, the clam, and the tomato.
That is all. I have spoken. Now go forth and sin no more.
Ahh, Bugles. I remember them from slumber parties as a tween.
You may all scorn me now - I’ll understand - but I actually like Bugles. I know they are only food-adjacent, not food, but they taste like corn, salt, fat, and crunch. Some food scientist somewhere got the bliss point right, as far as my taste buds are concerned.
True. Celery has only two uses. One is as a decorative stir-stick in a Caesar. The second one, proving that celery is actually edible, comes from the observation that celery stalks were designed by nature to be basically long scoops intended to contain cream cheese. The proper filling for them is Boursin Garlic & Fine Herbs cheese. But if one is degenerate or desperate enough, go right ahead and stuff them with Cheez Whiz!
I should say here that I’m not a food snob and have rediscovered my inner childhood when I found that smearing crackers with Cheez Whiz and then topping each one with half of a garlic-stuffed olive actually makes a nice snack. Keep in mind, though, that I’m a dog who enjoys licking his own balls in full public view.
Man, along with onions, celery is like one of my standard vegetables in cooking. Love the stuff. Not so much raw, but cooked it’s always welcome in any food I eat. I couldn’t cook half the food I cook without onions, celery, and carrots. (Well, and garlic, salt, pepper, of course.)
Yep! Carrots instead of green pepper and you got mirepoix or Italian soffrito (which can also contain other aromatics.) Like I said, pretty much the foundation for half the cooking I do, at least European and American food.
…and capers! You need those tiny, tangy flavor grenades. They do for your bagel, cream cheese, lox, and red onion what a happy ending does for a massage—cranks the whole experience up from “nice” to “how have I lived without this?”
My only problem with it is that there is no one feeding it to me right now.
Umm, the proper tuna sandwich is served on crackers. Satlines, Ritz, the awesome chive ones from Central Market, almost doesn’t matter which one you pick. Star-kist even sells a tuna kit with mayo and crackers, they know what you wanna eat it on. Ignore that relish pack they include, that’s just a whole bunch of plot getting in the way of the story.
Full disclosure: my sweetie makes an awesome tuna salad with olive oil, red onions, vinegar, lemon juice and capers. I’ll eat that until I have to wash myself with a rag on a stick. But I’m probably never going to go to the bother of making it, and I’m stuffing it down using crackers as the transfer device.
Git yer lousy food bible out of my face before I pulp it and use it to increase the dietary fiber of my crackers.
That’s not a sandwich, though. That’s tuna salad on a cracker. Different (but also good) thing. I like my tuna salad on a mostly hollowed-out sub roll. When I make it myself, it has celery, capers, olive oil, red wine vinegar, lemon, finely chopped red onions (or green onions), and a little bit of anchovies in it. Maybe a shake of Old Bay if I’m feeling zesty. Sometimes some dill relish, too. Or, if I’m in a mayo mood (or making it to share with my wife), swap out the oil and vinegar for mayo.
Lox on a bagel is a classic, sure—but give me a bagel slathered with smoked whitefish spread, a hefty schmear of cream cheese, crunchy onion, and of course, those tangy little capers. Because why settle for “just fine” when you can have full-on bagel bliss?
I use a teaspoon – or even just my finger – for that. Never got into the celery-and-peanut butter thing for some reason. Like I said, I’m not one for raw celery. I had some the other day because I served up some wings, but that’s really about the only context I eat raw celery in these days. I’m not grossed out by it or anything, I just prefer my celery cooked. I’m kind of the same way with carrots (which, once again, I served up with my wings and had some with blue cheese dressing.)
Oh, I’ll happily eat celery any way you give it to me, really. When raw, it is almost imperceptible, but aromatic. When cooked it’s even better. My favorite is in dishes where they’re just cooked enough to become vibrant green and are still a bit crunchy.
Yeah, I’m not going to snack away on raw carrots or raw celery of my own accord without them being a transfer device for something else, or an ingredient. But if all you have for snacks are raw carrots and celery, I can do that.
Publix used to carry a fantastic smoked whitefish spread (made in their fish department), but it’s disappeared from the shelves around here. So I decided to take matters into my own hands—it’s a breeze to whip up at home, as long as you can find smoked whitefish at your local market.
I got hooked on smoked whitefish spread after trying it at a now-defunct bagel shop called Lox, Stock, and Bagel—hands down the best pun-based name in bagel history.
