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What we savor

May 4th, 2015  |  Published in Uncategorized

Tuna: a celebrated dish

We all ate just about the same foods, except for my oldest brother, Omar. Growing up, he would occasionally beg my mother to prepare a special plate that was different than what everyone else was having for dinner, pleading his case for “something special.”  He loved spaghetti with meatballs and absolutely hated tuna—my favorite food as a child.

Everything goes with tuna–at least that is what I thought as a young girl. You can make tuna sandwiches with American cheese, place tuna in your salads and eat it with mac and cheese. Tuna was the best leftover dish.

But I didn’t always get what I liked– and I didn’t get my brother’s special treatment. My father didn’t seem to have a problem with him “wasting” food, as I would say. Me? I had to finish what was on my plate, even though I hated boiled cabbage because of the weird taste it left in my mouth, and squash was the worst. That didn’t stop my mother from having me sit at the dinner table until I was done—which would be never. Sometimes I would unintentionally gag. Because I looked so pitiful, I was released from the table and had to walk to my room as my two brothers teased me, their plates full of apple pie and vanilla ice cream. I guess my brother didn’t get the same treatment because he was older, and I respected that.

My brothers and I smiling hard and bonding.

My brothers and me, smiling hard and bonding. Photo: Mayah Collins.

 

There was no particular day when my mom would prepare tuna salad with macaroni and cheese and a side of mixed vegetables. Whenever she did make tuna, we always had the same side dishes, which made the meal more special and highly anticipated for me.

I was usually selected to go grocery shopping with her. She always made a list. “Mayah, go look inside of the refrigerator and all of the cabinets,” my mother would say. “Is there anything we need?” I would tell her that we needed  things like bread, eggs, or ketchup. I would stay on track with the list and only say what we needed. I never asked for anything extra like cookies or sweets. My mom would go over the list and check the refrigerator and cabinets to see if I missed something.

In the grocery store, if I saw my mom pick up mayonnaise, pickle relish and at least eight five-ounce cans of StarKist Chunk Light Tuna, I knew my life would be made that night. I don’t know what it is about tuna, but it makes my taste buds sing. To this day, I only order a tuna sub with lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and oregano at Subway. I don’t even know what else is on the menu — or  I do, but I prefer to stick to what I know and love.

On grocery days, my brothers would stay downstairs so they could help with taking in the groceries and putting everything in its rightful place. It was like an assembly line operation from the trunk of the car to the steps of the house to the front door.   If my mom was ready to make a certain dish, like tuna, she would have one of us leave the cans of tuna and all of the necessary condiments on the island in the kitchen. That is when I would get happy and my older brother would look for something like fish sticks to eat instead.

The first thing my mom did was to wash the lids of the cans. You can never be too sure about how sanitary these cans are. Next, she would open each can  and drain the stinky tuna juice out. All of the tuna went into a big plastic bowl with mayonnaise, mixed carefully. She used a fork to break up major chucks of tuna and to blend the mayo. Next, sweet pickle relish to give the tuna some flavor, and then some pepper. While the macaroni noodles and the vegetables cooked, my mom put the tuna in the refrigerator to chill. When everything was ready, the food was served buffet style on the island in the kitchen. I always went overboard when it was a tuna day. I liked to place the tuna on top of the mac and cheese because the gooey cheese and tuna complemented each other. And we never had to worry about fighting my oldest brother for more tuna. He was too busy dipping his fish sticks in ketchup.

 

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