like the bottom of a dock.
Cooked in its own juice.
not ground bits of cheap-o stuff.
my teeth sink right in.
Boy does my wife know me. She got me an amazing birthday present… a treasure trove of tuna delicacies!
Flott Tuna: two types of the legendary Flott brand, one in a jar, one in a can. Now I can compare the two directly and see what sort of difference the packaging makes.
Ventresca: this is the “underbelly” of the fish, considered a delicacy. Two different brands compete on this front, one labeling itself as containing “tuna breasts” of Bonito del Norte, a type of white tuna.
Salt-cured tuna loin: a slab of expensive ventresca-cut tuna, cured much like bacon. It’s best sliced thinly over toast points, drizzled with olive oil. The best description I can come up with is “tuna prosciutto”, and you can see it served on the plate in the picture.
Tuna caviar: dried tuna eggs, ready to sprinkle over salads and pasta. Rather amazing.
Oh my. It’s going to be a busy month.
To the untrained buyer of tuna, the two distinguishing features of this can (beyond the foreign-language marketing) are (1) it’s packed in olive oil, and (2) it’s yellowfin tuna. And no matter how you beat around the bush, it’s hard to put down yellowfin. It just tastes better than the more common bluefin or pale-bland albacore species that fill most of the supermarket shelf. It’s got a richer flavor and all-around meatier texture.
The olive oil is cheap and mixes entirely with the tuna. The result is a cloudy, mucky solution that my cat won’t come near. But does it matter? Not really. One could argue that the total exchange of olive and fish oils is precisely what makes the tuna’s flesh taste so good. It’s not a “pure” tuna taste, but some sort of rich hybrid of animal and vegetable fats.
Let’s me honest here. There’s a time for snobiness, and a time to just get down-and-dirty with the common folk. You can go around ordering eight dollar beers at yuppie bars, but when you’ve been out sweating in the sun all day doing garden-work, nothing tastes better than a cheap Corona. Likewise, when I just need to kick back after a long day of changing 1’s into 0’s and 0’s into 1’s, nothing satisfies my primal fish urge better than a can of Genova. It’s not a tuna for the ages, but it’s still my basic pantry staple. I couldn’t go without it.
This is a working-man’s tuna. I salute it heartily.