A Salad Named Tuna

I'm a bad, bad man. I have been meaning to post with the best of intentions, and yet, here I am, stranger to the world of the foodblog. However, with provident convenience, I come with amends in the form of tuna salad, which is hopefully not on the list of Foods Lisa Avoids With Vengeance (FLAW-V, not to be confused with its predecessor, Foods Lisa Avoids With Irrational Vengeance, or the next form, Foods Lisa Avoids With Vengeful Intent). But I digress. This is not about me. Well, it is, but it's really about a part of me, which is my love for tuna salad. I blame this weakness on my father, whose tuna salad is just too delicious. I remember being but a wee child (yeah, I busted that phrase out), with a roll stuffed to the gills with tuna salad. With a trophy like that I had no qualms about eating something the size of my face, and trust me: I have a big face. However, I don't just faceroll for any salad. A great salad is harmony, a tale of taste and texture and color that appeals to the senses. Put this way, plain, insipid salad ('I popped a can'--we've all been there) is a tragedy in three parts, the kind that's best left halfway through. So without further ado, I share the following recipe/technique as adapted from The New Best Recipe, poked and prodded by my own history--more complex than your 'pop and mix' common tuna, but worth the work.

Hearty Tuna Salad

2-3 Tbsp of lemon juice
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
1 tsp dried dill

1 small clove garlic, minced
1/2 small red onion, minced
3 celery ribs, washed and minced

3 cans of solid chunk tuna packed in water (no cat food. you know the type.)
5 hard boiled eggs (don't worry; I'll tell ya how)

1/2 c mayonnaise
1 Tbsp chopped fresh parsley

In a large bowl or container (the one you'll be storing your tuna salad in is fine), add the lemon juice, salt, pepper, and dill, and whisk together with a fork.

Get your eggs ready by placing them in a medium saucepan and covering them with about 1 inch of cold water (aka, if the eggs are at the bottom, there's roughly 1 inch water above the egg).
Turn the heat to medium high and let the water come to a boil (eggs inside, water should be bubbling vigorously, not simmering or simply forming bubbles). At that point, take the saucepan off the heat and cover, allowing the eggs to rest for about 10 minutes. When ready, remove the eggs from the hot water with a slotted spoon and place in a bowl with cold water. (If your saucepan is a simple metal saucepan with no nonstick coating, you can just carefully move it to the sink and run cold water over the eggs that way.)

While waiting for the eggs (water coming to a boil and then letting the eggs rest), chop your garlic, onion, and celery. Open up all of your tuna and empty the cans into a colander in the sink.

Using your hands, break the tuna down into finer pieces/shreds--just pinch away like St. Paddy's at the larger clumps and they should easily flake out. (If your tuna is green, you should seriously reconsider the whole affair.) Grab a handful of tuna and squeeze gently to remove more liquid (don't squirt yourself, which is surprisingly easy to do); add this to the bowl with the seasoning and repeat with the rest of the tuna. (Please, for the love of lunch, don't skip this process. A sloppy tuna is an unloved tuna; it's like somebody cried in your salad. More practically, it throws the flavor off and your bread will not be happy.)

Add the chopped garlic, onion, and celery to the bowl/container as well. Mix these together to distribute the seasoning evenly.

Your eggs should be decently cool by now; take an egg and remove the shell however you prefer. (Hammer not recommended, unless it's a Captain and then you're Very Very Lucky.) Slice in half, then each half into 4 wedges (lengthwise), then chop the wedges. However you do it, dice the egg. Do this for all 5 eggs. Add the eggs to the tuna mix and stir again; the yolk helps to absorb any leftover seasoning/liquid.

Chop your parsley and add it to the tuna mix with the mayo. Mix one more time! Taste and fine tune the seasoning. And you're done! Store. Devour. Faceroll.

(You can just eat the salad straightup, but if you're feeling Fancy, a good ol' tuna melt is just 15 minutes away--preheat the oven to 300F, grab yourself some bread, cheese (something akin to the Swiss family work work out fine) and tomato. Stack 'em in that order and give a good layer of tuna, bake for 10-15 and that's how it works.

Oh, and as is my tendency: here's the recipe cheatline: lemon juice, salt, pepper, dill + garlic, celery, onion + drained tuna + eggs + mayo, parsley. Yes. I made you read all that, first. Insanity is like tuna salad; it's made to be shared.)