Grilled Mahi and Summer Salad

Summer is fabulous for so many reasons, . The weather is nice (for some of you), dresses are de riguer, and the produce is unbelievable. Even in SF, where the sun don’t shine* and the birds sing sad, cloudy songs, the farmer’s markets are busting out all over with the best, ripest fruits and veggies.

Confession, though: I don’t really like fruit. This is (seemingly) the weirdest, most shocking thing a person can say, because whenever I admit to my hatred of bananas or my general distrust of berries, I usually receive an incredulous “whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?!” from whomever has just had the misfortune, the horrid misfortune, to hear someone maligning Mother Nature’s sweet confections.

But recall, if you will, that I am a person who routinely eats giant bowls of Brussels sprouts for dinner, or servings of quinoa salad so large as to require a mixing bowl. No no, that quinoa salad isn’t for you. That whole thing is just for me, thanks.

I’m not unhealthy. I just have no use for blueberries in my everyday life. Nor my special occasion life. Blueberries, get outta. mah. face! And take your weird fruity friends with you.

When I do eat fruit, I like it to be comingling with my dear friends, the vegetables. That’s why this recipe is so perfect. It incorporates the sweetness of mango with the acid pop of heirloom cherry tomatoes, creamy ripe avocado, and sweet summer corn. Easy to assemble, minimal cooking required, and if your weather is nice, you can eat it outside in your dress. Or you can come to my house and we’ll eat it inside, in our cardigans.



– Two small Mahi Mahi filets

–  One large ear of corn

– One ripe avocado

– One cup cherry tomatoes

–  One ripe mango

– One jalapeño pepper

– One lime

– EVOO, S&P, red chile flakes, if desired


1. Cook the corn however you desire, either in a bowl of water in the microwave or on the grill. While it cooks, halve the cherry tomatoes, dice the mango, slice the avocado, jalapeño and lime. Depending on how much you like the jalapeño flavor, you may or may not want to put it all in. It’s absolutely no big deal if things are chopped/diced/cooked at the same time. Summer cooking is meant to be easy, and indeed, this recipe is.

2. Shear the kernels off the corn cob with a large serrated knife, and put them into a large bowl with the rest of the chopped ingredients. Garnish with salt, pepper, red chile flakes and a squeeze of lime right before serving.

3. Once the salad is assembled, heat a small swirl of EVOO in a large, flat skillet. Once heated, lay down your mahi filet, skin side down. Flavor the top liberally with salt and pepper and let it cook to the middle of the filet, about three minutes. You can see the filet turn from pink to white, so you can judge its doneness that way.

4. At the halfway point, flip the filet over, skin side up. Gently peel the skin off, discard, and season the other side. Again, let it cook to the middle, at which point you should have a finished filet.

5. Serve the filet with a generous helping of summer salad. And possibly a summery beer, like a saison or a sour.

{As an aside, you know when people say “You can stick it where the sun don’t shine!” and they are typically referring to an unkind, unladylike place? I now just imagine that place to be here, in San Francisco. So, consequently, I imagine all the things people would like to stick to be wandering the streets of SF, and realizing that “where the sun don’t shine” is so much more awesome than it was rumored to be.}

A Fresh Take on Tuna

Tuna is a bit maligned, wouldn’t you agree? I’ve worked in three separate workplaces that have banned the warming of tuna in the microwaves, and though La Boulange’s (yes, I am addicted) tuna melt is infamously delicious and totally adds to the canon of tuna successes, a major pro in the pro/con tuna list of our lives, there are still more haters than lovers. Right? Right. This is my blog. Of course I’m right.

I’ve found that sometimes the haters have a legitimate argument in that a bad tuna salad can be gloppy, overly mayo’ed, and tasteless. Or, even worse, it’s sometimes served without any condimentary help, and is just straight up tuna, rendering the eater completely avoidable for the entire day, their breath smelling like a dirty foot, and such. YUM.

But I added an odd mix of vegetables and fruit (yes, fruit) and spice and sweetness today, and I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised.

This recipe isn’t based off anyone else’s, nor has anyone verified it’s deliciousness except for me, so proceed with caution. Or, you know what? Don’t! Throw caution to the wind! Yeah, do that! Because you guys, we are friends now, right? And friends tell friends about awesome stuff to put their tuna salads.

You should probably make this tun-ight! Sorry, sorry. It’s just that I can’t really write about tuna with a straight face. And since you can’t see my face, I have to make bad puns, so you know I’m not taking this tu seriously. SORRY! GAH. I’m done. Go eat your samiches.



. 1 can of tuna (albacore in water is best, from a dolphin-safe purveyor)

. 1/4 cup of mayo

. 1 small handful of craisins

. 2 tablespoons of lemon juice

. fresh cracked black pepper, to taste

. 1/2 cup of peas

. 1 scallion

. 1/2 honey crisp apple, diced


If you have frozen peas, zap them in the microwave or on the stovetop for three minutes. While they’re heating, chop up the scallions and the apple and mix everything together in a large bowl.

Really, everything in this recipe is to taste, so be liberal (or not) with all the ingredients listed.

Toast up some bread (or, again, not) and make a sandwich! I like to eat them open-faced, so I can be as messy as possible, apparently? But perhaps you might add a top slice of bread, and you might be a little classier for it. Or, as with this entire recipe, you mightn’t. It’s entirely up to you.