The New Star Fish

Unless you grew up on a schooner, in Tokyo, or with extremely food-forward parents, your introduction to tuna was probably a shredded pink pile of the stuff from StarKist. And like me, I bet there was no way that you could connect those mayo-lovin’ shreds to anything that swam in the big blue ocean. Long before Jessica Simpson pondered the chicken of the sea, we all must have wondered exactly what was crammed into those little cans. While it is sad that a fish with such beautiful, clean lines and tender flesh so often ends up blended with pickles and mustard, the fact is that tuna is the second most-consumed seafood (after shrimp) in the country. But even if tuna noodle casserole is still close to your heart, it is more and more likely that some of the tuna you’re eating bears the name ahi, yellowtail, tombo, or bigeye. And, sorry Charlie, even canned tuna has gone upscale, with premium fillets and imports now more widely available.

You could say that ever since the world has had fishermen, they’ve been catching tuna. It has been fished since antiquity in the waters of the Mediterranean Sea, as well as the Pacific, Atlantic, and Indian Oceans. Members of the mackerel family, tuna are hearty, strong fish, built for speed. Always in motion, they can power up to speeds of fifty-five miles per hour and eat up to ten percent of their body weight each day. It’s not unheard of to catch a six-hundred-pound tuna, depending on the variety.

Albacore (or tombo in Hawaii) is the famed “chicken of the sea,” so dubbed by fisherman for its ivory flesh. Caught off the West Coast, albacore is used mostly for canning, as are the skipjack, tongol, and bonito. Yellowfin, or ahi, which cover enormous distances around the globe, have flesh that ranges from bright pink to medium red when raw, and cooks to a light yellow-brown. Bigeye swim at a greater depth than the yellowfin, and therefore have more fat to insulate them from colder waters. Many of them end up in Japan as sashimi.

The bluefin might be considered the hottest tuna in the deep, cold sea. American and Japanese chefs drive the demand; those two countries alone account for about half of the consumption. The largest in the tuna family, bluefin are capable of reaching close to fifteen hundred pounds over their twenty-year life span. Swimming in cold Atlantic waters and feeding on mackerel and herring, the bluefin caught off the New England coast are favored by the Japanese for sushi and sashimi. In fact, they are so valued that few markets can compete with the prices Japanese buyers are willing to pay. The cuts of “sushi grade” tuna you see in America probably don’t pass muster with Japanese sushi chefs, so sophisticated are their tastes for this fatty, supple flesh.

As the appeal of sushi preparations has increased around the globe, so the quotas and the market for tuna have changed. Fears of overfishing and stock depletion run with any fish that appears frequently on restaurant menus, and while the American tuna industry must abide by federally regulated quotas, European competitors are not held to the same guidelines. Some innovators have begun developing new agricultural techniques to widen availability. In January, for instance, the Taiwanese agricultural council unveiled a yellowfin that, within unique “net cages,” had grown from one kilogram to thirty kilograms in a two-year period. Fed a special diet and living a predator-free, pampered life, these yellowfin aren’t even hauled in by net. Instead, to protect the flesh from any damage, they are carefully borne out of the water by teams of men and carried off to the ship’s hold for a quick end.

The demand for fresh tuna may be rising, but the canning industry, which recently celebrated its centennial, isn’t about to be left behind. Tuna can now be found in a pouch or a tin, in solid or chunk form, packed in oil, springwater, or its own juices. Canned tuna flavored with curries, jalapeños, or sun-dried tomatoes has recently begun to appear on grocery shelves.

More important to American fans of the can, however, is the arrival of imported and boutique brands. The word on fishy lips everywhere is ventresca. From the Italian word for belly, ventre, ventresca is the silky-smooth belly of the tuna, known in sushi bars as toro. Ventresca from Spain and Italy tends to come in round, flat, four-ounce tins, which, when opened, reveal tender, wide, white strips of tuna that gently separate. The taste is beyond nirvana—buttery, creamy, incredibly delicate. Since prices range from $5 to $35, you’ll want to savor the flavor. This is no tuna for mashing into a salad; this is stand-alone, drizzle-with-olive oil-and-kosher salt eating. Putting it on a rosemary cracker is about as fancy as you’d want to get. Ventresca may be hard to find locally, but LaTienda.com has plenty (splurge on Tre Torri Ventresca di Tonno packed in extra virgin olive oil).

The other development in canning is the small boutique canneries that have spawned along the West Coast. Holding true to a regional food philosophy, the small producers of the Pacific Northwest fish only by trolling (not with nets), and hand-cut and-pack only sashimi-grade albacore. They eschew all additives—oils, vegetable stock, chemicals, fillers—save for a smidgen of sea salt. While major producers cook their tuna twice, before packing and then in the can, the small canneries cook the fish just once, in the can, to preserve the natural juices and flavors. The resulting fish has a fresh, mild flavor; its texture can be a little dry, but that’s why it works so well in the tuna-salad genre—the result is less a mushy paste than a chewy, toothsome treat. Look for Great American Smokehouse and Seafood Company’s Deluxe Albacore Fillets or Dave’s Home-Style Santa Cruz Albacore at Whole Foods.

With so many new options, it would be a shame to stick hard by your tuna salad or tuna melt. Even those who go in for dynamite sushi rolls or tuna seared with wasabi and soy could stand to swim in new waters. An easy tuna tartare might be just the ticket.

Tuna Tartare with Wasabi Cream
4–6 appetizer servings
8- to 10-ounce sashimi-grade tuna
(yellowfin/ahi or bluefin is best)
3 T rice wine vinegar
2 tsp. soy sauce
1½ T sesame oil
2 T (or to taste) wasabi paste
½ cup crème fraîche (or sour cream)
1 T Sriracha or chili paste
Black and white sesame seeds

Using a non-serrated knife, cut tuna into quarter-inch cubes. Toss with rice wine vinegar, sesame oil, soy sauce and sesame seeds. Whisk together the crème fraîche and wasabi, adding more wasabi if desired. Create individual servings by mounding about two tablespoonfuls of tuna on a small plate. Top with a dollop of wasabi cream, sprinkle with additional sesame seeds, and drizzle the plate with Sriracha sauce. Serve immediately.

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