After thinking a lot about cooking for awhile now, I decided to actually do some last night. So I went to Whole Foods and I bought a bunch of crap. I went to the fishmonger. How many times do you get to say that in modern times? (The English major in me wants to remark on how Hamlet insults Polonius by calling him a fishmonger. I think it means something dirty. But like “dirty” dirty. Because I’m sure fishmongers are dirty anyway. Not that the Whole Foods fishmonger was dirty, he was very clean. Anyway…)
I had him cut me a tuna steak. Only it was huge, so I cut it up even further when I got home with my new slicing knife. I started building my little spice collection at home. Collecting anything has a sense of satisfaction to it. Unfortunately, some of the same brand of spice were not available so I had to mix and match. This disturbs my sense of completion. It’s like collecting a bunch of Spiderman comics only to find out they’re out of Spiderman the next time you’re at the comic book store and you have to buy Batman. Fine, sure. But not the same sort of satisfying.
So I know you’re wondering but I TOTALLY secured some garlic powder, some cayenne pepper, some cumin seeds, some cilantro, and some coconut oil. Nice, right? I ALREADY had some sea salt and lime juice. So I mixed all spices together in a bowl—it’s like I’m some sort of apothecary or something. And then I put some scoops of coconut oil in my skillet on high. While that was heating up, I coated the tuna in my magical spice powder. Then I threw the tuna in the skillet. That was dumb b/c hot coconut oil splashed on me. I’m a pro though, so I brushed it off.
Then I started chopping up the cilantro, I freaking MINCED it people! That was for a garnish for the tuna steak.
Unfortunately, this is when things started to fall apart. Because there was a lot of smoke from the tuna searing in the pan. So much it got hazy in my apartment. I started to cough. I turned my fan on high, I turned the a/c on high, I turned the exhaust all the way. And I opened my apartment door. Jake is smart though. He was laying right by the door low to the ground. I didn’t raise a cat to be no fool. Smoke rises! I bet he was testing the doorknob to see if it’s hot too.
Like I said, I’m a pro, so I shrugged it off and I flipped the tuna. Then I doused it with some lemon juice(it called for lime juice, but I can improvise too). Then I finished it off. Shut off the burner and waited to die in peace.
But not before sprinkling the cilantro on the tuna steak. Hello people! I cooked it perfectly! Lightly brown on the outside, nice and white on the inside. Then I paired it with a really light and surprising beer, called STELLA. I said, I’m gourmet right?
Anyway, it was good. But the sad part of it all was I realized I prolly should not fry things up too much b/c of the horrible ventiliation probs in my eensy weensy kitchen. It’s a shame because I clearly have mad skills.
But that’s ok, because the next thing I’m making is chili and that will be mostly simmering, after I roast open these special Mexican chiles I secured.
-Top Chef
Submit a Comment