That’s it! I’m tired of being nice, and I’m not going to do it anymore.
I just want the recipe, not the long-winded backstory of how you and your family enjoy roast chicken during the holidays, strangling a bag of stray cats while watching Martha Stewart urolagnia videos. You call it “choking the roasted chicken.” I get it, Mary Poppins; you’re weird, but, I still want your recipe for roasting chickens.
Hence, the intrepid down-scrolling begins, recalcitrantly skipping over the ads, and past the “cozy dinner… cold day… sure to hit the spot” hyperbolic prose. Wait. You roast the chicken with the potatoes and carrots? That’s a new one, nobody has ever tried that before. Be sure to describe in detail how you were inspired by volunteering to collect blood from the abandoned children at the orphanarium; sad kids always make you hungry. “Roasting your own chicken is so satisfying.” Except for the chicken. It’s not very satisfying for the chicken.
Following your bombastic lead, here is my perfect tuna sandwich recipe (is it sandwich, or sandthat?) Fun fact! There is no sand in a sandwich. It’s just its name, like baby oil, or TV dinner. How did it get its name? Nobody knows. Or cares. Definitely that last one. Somebody knows, but nobody cares. Nobody wants to hear an apocryphal story about the Earl of Sandwich and his chamber of whores…
Side note: Tuna is full of mercury, because they are fish and their diet consists mainly of thermometers. Dolphins are killed as collateral damage when tuna are caught in those big fishing nets, and dolphins are smart, so eating tuna makes you smart. Dolphin smart. Eat a calculator or a Korean if you want to be good at math, but eat a tuna soaked in the blood of a dolphin if you want to be good at doing tricks in the ocean. Delicious pan fried dolphin with a little fennel and a nice chianti.
Remember that day when it was sunny? Or that other time when it wasn’t? Those were good times, made better with tuna and family, and lots of wine. Lots and lots of red, white, or plaid wine.
Personally, one of the nice things about tuna I appreciate is that it comes in a package that you can open with a tool you probably already own. There is no need to spend weeks tracking and hunting an elusive prey across the deserts of three continents (the South African wild tuna is a master of natural camouflage). Others have already done the difficult killing part for you and packaged the satisfying result in a bag, bottle, or tin. You just have to open it, combine with your favorite mix-ins, and eat up.
Speaking of mix-ins, tuna can be augmented with a wide variety of flavors from other easily obtainable ingredients, not just dirt, glass, and sand. Next time, try it with glitter! Celery, capers, marshmallows, or ground beef. Tuna and roast chicken is amazing, though somewhat confusing to the palette.
Well, I guess that just about wraps it all up. Oh, right! Stupid! Almost forgot the sand-witch recipe:
- Take a package of tuna and open it with an appropriate device. A big rock or a sharp stick works well.
- Add to the tuna anything else you like. Oatmeal and whole raw carrots are a bold choice.
- Spread it on bread, or a fat slice of human flesh.
Enjoy!
—DG.
Inside Doug's Head 