Cooking today
Tuna not always from a can
Monday, May 05, 2008
My early childhood was spent in Milwaukee in the 1960s, where we lived in a modest neighborhood behind a strip mall anchored by an A&P.
More days than not, we would walk the gravel path to the store, because our freezerless refrigerator was too small to store much food. We didn't have to lug milk, fortunately, because the milkman delivered it, in glass containers, right to our back door.
Extras
It hardly seems real, that life.
The gravel path took us past an overgrown parcel of undeveloped land that served as a builder's dumping ground and a home to the kinds of creatures that like their habitats wet and wild.
We kids — never adults — counted ourselves among those creatures, and would leave the gravel path, cross a ditch and walk along a dirt trail, ducking under a winding archway of thick brush. It opened up to the centerpiece of this idyllic retreat: Treacherous slabs of busted-up concrete that ringed a small pool of scum-covered water affectionately known as "the swamp."
The Garden of Eden it wasn't, but it was close enough for those of us getting our first taste of independent play.
We would climb on the concrete. We would catch polliwogs, take them home and watch them grow legs. We learned to grab crawdads right behind their heads, so their claws couldn't pinch us. Likewise with garden snakes, to avoid a toothless bite. We'd pick cattails, dry them in the sun, light them up at night and pretend we were smoking cigars.
We would scavenge for discarded boards to reach from the edge of the swamp to the tree stump in the middle, making a wobbly criss-cross of "bridges" from one side to the other. It wasn't more than 15 feet wide, and it wasn't more than 2 feet deep, but for those attempting to cross, the stakes were high: One misstep and you would fall into the foul-smelling muck.
If you were dared to cross, you had no choice, and every so often word would spread through the neighborhood that a kid had fallen in the swamp, and the news was greeted with mild repugnancy and grim admiration.
The misconception of a swamp as a stagnant pool stayed with me over the years, despite science lessons and nature programs that spoke to the contrary.
So I was a little unprepared for what awaited us on a swamp tour outside New Orleans a few weeks ago.
"Do you have any bug spray?" I asked as I was buying my ticket.
"Bug spray?" the owner replied, in a tone reserved for the idiots and Northerners. "You don't need bug spray in the swamp!"
Moving water discourages mosquito breeding, he explained, and predators control the rest.
The swamp was, in fact, breathtakingly beautiful and vibrantly green. And the air was so fresh you wanted to fill your lungs with it. It may have been the cleanest place I visited in Louisiana.
Childhood notions are hard to shake, and I know I was well into adulthood before I thought of tuna as anything other than the canned variety.
But fresh tuna steaks have come into their own in the last three decades, and are a low-fat substitute for beef on the grill: A little olive oil, a little seasoning and a few minutes of cooking over high heat are all it takes. The meat should be seared on the outside but rare in the middle for maximum flavor.
TUNA STEAKS GRILLED OVER HERBS
Makes 4 servings
Olive oil for coating
4 sushi-grade ahi tuna steaks, about 1-inch thick and one-half pound each
1 tablespoon minced fresh thyme, or 1 1/2 teaspoons dried
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon lemon pepper or freshly ground black pepper
1 or 2 bunches fresh thyme, soaked in cold water for 15 minutes and drained, plus a few sprigs for garnish
Prepare a charcoal or gas grill for direct grilling over high heat and oil the grill rack. Coat the tuna steaks with oil.
To make the rub, mix together the thyme, salt and lemon pepper in a small bowl. Sprinkle generously on both sides of the fish.
Just before putting the fish on the grill, place the drained thyme directly on the coals or burner. Place the fish over the thyme, cover and grill, turning once, until browned on the outside still rare on the inside, about 3 minutes on each side.
Source: "Williams Sonoma Grilling"
Contact this writer at carol.rini@gmail.com.
