I’ve been building my relationship with tuna for almost 30 years now. At one end of the spectrum it’s an ingredient sold at auction for extortionate prices, each part of the “tiger of the sea” renowned for its variance in fat content, taste and texture. The chefs who manoeuvre these magnificent beasts into delicate morsels train for years to learn the craft and carry an arsenal of specialised hooks, blades, and tools each with their unique purpose. Yet tuna is also found in the least glamorous of places, reunited with its briny salt water home as cooked flakes in a stack of 5 tins somewhere in aisle 8 between the baked beans and the sweetcorn.

It all began when I was a young kid, probably no older than 4 or 5 and I remember spending afternoons with my dad making lunch in our townhouse kitchen. Though I was making chocolate pudding and cheesecakes with my mom teetering on a step stool to reach the countertop up above, lunches with dad were arguably some of my first exposures to cooking in the savoury world. We made sandwiches for lunch who’s main ingredients bounced back and forth from canned tuna to hard boiled eggs. I can remember opening the tin and squeezing the tuna down with the lid to evacuate the cloudy brine into the sink below. After carefully prying the lid back out, I fished the pink flakes into a mixing bowl, before dolloping lashings of mayonnaise, salt and pepper, and if we were feeling adventurous, sliced spring onion into the bowl. We sat in front of the T.V. (normally a no no as meals were always eaten at the table as a family) and watched the reruns of David Letterman’s The Late Show, bonding over simple moments spent together.

arguably more confident in the kitchen now

Years later I was a spotty teenager who had recently signed on to open the latest “big name” chain seafood bar & restaurant in our local town mall (which has now been closed for many years). I swear the producers who made the movie Waiting came to observe our debaucherous daily operations for inspiration. I was too young and naive to fully comprehend the intricacies of exactly what was going on in that place but I knew I was the only one who wasn’t an alcoholic and drug addict or sleeping with my colleagues after a few too many after work. Suffice it to say on my last day the manager wouldn’t let me have a drink with the chef at the bar as I was underage at the time, so chef reached into his bag and removed container of medication, and gave me a bunch of pills and told me to go have fun. Here I was reintroduced to tuna in frozen steak form, which we would defrost in the sink during the day with the myriad of other “fresh” products pulled from the deep freeze that would bob in the back prep sink full of water. The grill chef would un lovingly smash the delicate thawed tuna steak into a stainless steel insert of cracked pepper and salt, flip it about clumsily with his tongs, and smash it in a hot pan (all the more impressive if he sent up a fireball of oil in the process). It was finished with a dollop of mango salsa, and I’m sure there were chopped herbs and powdered spices that were sprinkled around the vacant spaces on the plate and rim between grubby fingers, which were then cleaned with profuse rubbing on the front of their grim apron.

Over the years I’ve learned a few tips for working with this luxurious ingredient

The following year I had completed my first year of culinary school and was an apprentice at yet anther new opening. I was recruited by a team of F&B managers who I first met emerging from a convoy of shiny black Land Rovers sporting matching black leather jackets embroidered with the name of the restaurant and golf course I would find myself working at for the next 5 years. It was the perfect opportunity for a young chef to gain exposure to the craft of cooking as we rotated positions in the kitchen every month, and the menu changed every week. Add to this the allure of making our own bread and charcuterie, having a greenhouse and garden, growing our own mushrooms from spores and hosting world-class vineyards for wine dinners. To this day I can’t understand how the chef and sous chef found the patience to operate a restaurant to such a high standard with a team of teenagers tripping over their own feet, but they somehow did and I have a lot of respect for them for it. I remember being on the coveted meat & fish section when tuna arrived, and I’d never seen something so mysteriously beautiful. The crimson loin emerged from the ice flakes in which it was delivered and chef and I donned gloves to prepare for the delicate surgery that would ensue. I watched carefully as specialised hand-hammered knives emerged from his knife roll, the muscle giving way to each long and calculated stroke of the blade. I remember being entrusted with rolling tuna logs into cling film to set the round shape, and then standing over a smoking pan as I achieved a perfect seared ring around the pink flesh, counting the seconds as I rolled it across the hot cast iron. One of the many tuna dishes I remember from my time there was a northern-Italian inspired starter of seared tuna served with Borlotti beans, preserved lemon, green olives, fried sourdough bread crumbs and nice olive oil.

inspired today by the beans from that tuna dish, only we’re going to use lentils instead

Many stamps in my passport, tattoos and michelin-starred cooking experiences later, and I’m halfway up western Europe’s tallest building in London, UK, opening yet another restaurant. We are serving over 500 covers a day in 2 different restaurant atmospheres, and the world is watching closely as there is both a well-heeled executive chef and renowned restaurateur at the helm of this colossal new project. As one of 7 sous chefs here I can’t ever remember feeling like we were ready for a service. Nor can I recall a day where everyone showed up for work. It was a constant juggling act and reshuffling of our resources to deliver an experience to the guest that would merit the journey to such a destination dining experience. It was a challenging environment given it’s location within a skyscraper, and the pressure of the opening didn’t help. We were all a bit out of our depth, but willing to jump in and lead by example and I learned a lot in my 3 and a half years, arriving in my first sous chef gig, and leaving as the head chef of our brigade of more than 50 cooks. The meat and fish section always seemed to struggle with the demand for prep, so as sous chefs we would focus our support on this section to cover the fishmonger who was often covering another section, and the butcher if he ever fell ill with one of his many epileptic fits. We would order 7-10kg of tuna a day at our busiest, and while accuracy and finesse were the foundations of our cuisine, speed played an important element as well. Here, tuna was only used as a starter course of tartare and portioned to 80g. It was mixed lightly with a light ponzu dressing and folded gently with some rinsed and chopped shallot before receiving its quail egg yolk garnish and sprinkle of chopped chives.

Jazzing up the tuna tartare we used to serve to the masses with mango, avocado and my favourite oriental dressing

Today’s recipe incorporates some of these experiences with tuna over the years. While roaming the aisles of the supermarket here in Thailand, I was surprised to find fresh tuna of this quality available, so brought a piece home to prepare as a special treat for Scott and I. Cooking is all about reflecting on memories from the past and finding inspiration from things you’ve tasted or seen before. Then when seasonality and geographical location offer you suggestions for accompanying ingredients or a general “style” for your inspiration, the cooking can begin. The tartare was inspired by Thai mangoes which we have fallen in love with. They are sweet, tender, perfectly ripe and a true expression of a fruit’s potential when allowed to mature naturally on the plant in its natural habitat. The dressing is a favourite “flavour bomb” I use often in the kitchen, and I just so happened to have all the aromatic elements in the fridge as garlic, chillies, ginger and lemongrass are staples for our cooking here. The seared tuna loin is such a popular preparation so I decided to cook a main course that featured this preparation. Given it was a cooler, cloudy day and we were following up a fresh and punchy tartare, I decided to take a more comforting “continental” approach to the dish, and serve it with a warm lentil salad, with bacon, shallots, and tomatoes.

Tuna Tartare, Mango, Avocado & Oriental Dressing

Serves 4

For the Oriental Dressing:

1 tbsp lemongrass, very finely chopped

1 tbsp fresh ginger, peeled, very finely chopped

1 tsp garlic, peeled, very finely chopped

1 each Thai birds eye chilli, seeded, very finely chopped

1 tbsp chopped fresh coriander

3 tbsp neutral oil (canola, grapeseed, vegetable)

3 tbsp soy sauce

1 each lime, juiced

Flavour bomb in the making with some authentically asian ingredients

Method:

Place 4 bowls/plates in the freezer to chill.
Put all ingredients in a mixing bowl and stir to combine. This should be made on the day you will use it, otherwise the acid in the lime juice will “cook” the fresh coriander.
Reserve in the fridge until you’re ready to use.

What a dressing! Definitely a bit of work with all the chopping, but amazing flavour in the end

For the Tartare:

600g pc tuna loin (from a trusted fishmonger-as you’ll be eating it raw), cleaned of sinew & diced

1/2 ripe mango, cut into small dice (same size as tuna)

1 ripe avocado, cut into small dice (same size as tuna)

2 thai shallots, peeled, finely chopped (rinsed under cold water if they are strong)

Salt (preferably kosher, Maldon flakes) to taste

Something crisp to eat it with (tortilla chips, flatbreads, etc)-optional

Put the tuna in the freezer if you find it “mushy” and hard to work with to achieve a precise dice

Cut the tuna into a small dice, being sure to keep it cold while working with it (watch my YouTube video on how to do this if you’ve never worked with fresh tuna before).
Place the tuna, avocado, mango and shallot into the mixing bowl and season with salt.
Spoon the dressing over and mix gently to combine. Taste for seasoning.
When happy, spoon into chilled bowls and serve immediately on its own, or with a selection of crisps and flatbreads.

All your bases covered: sweet, sour, salty, spicy!

Pan-Seared Tuna, Warm Lentil Salad, Bacon & Tomato

Serves 4

For the Pan-Seared Tuna:

4x120g tuna loin logs (see YouTube video if unsure on how to do this)

3 tbsp neutral oil (canola, grapeseed, vegetable)

Fresh cracked black pepper, coarse

Salt (preferably kosher, Maldon flakes) to taste

Method:

Heat a sauté pan over high heat.
Have a clean plate ready beside the stove for the finished tuna logs.
Season the tuna loin logs well with coarsely cracked fresh black pepper and salt.
Add the oil to the pan, and wait for the first “wisps” of smoke to come from the hot pan.
Carefully place the tuna logs into the pan. Count 15 seconds per side, and rotate.
Once all sides have been seared, remove the tuna logs to the clean plate.

For the Warm Lentil Salad:

2c dry green lentils (French “dupuy” are the best)

8 strips bacon, smoked streaky, diced (easiest when partially frozen)

2 large, ripe red tomatoes, cored & diced

5 thai shallots, peeled & diced

4 garlic cloves, peeled and chopped

3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil (can use rendered fat from bacon instead if you want)

1/2 bunch fresh coriander, chopped (could also use basil)

4 spring onions, rinsed & sliced on a bias

1 each lemon, juiced

Fresh cracked black pepper

Salt (preferably kosher, Maldon flakes) to taste

Garnish:

2 spring onions, cut into 4cm pcs, finely julienned and into ice water

Picked small coriander (or basil) leaves

Method:

Soak the lentils covered in water overnight in the fridge.
Chop the garlic and let sit with the olive oil.
Drain the lentils and place them in a pot with enough water to cover by at least 1cm. DO NOT ADD SALT
Simmer lentils over medium heat until “al dente”. Season water heavily with salt. Allow lentils to sit and finish cooking gently in the salted water for 30 mins.
In a medium sauté pan over medium heat add the olive oil from the garlic cook the bacon dice until fat has rendered and it begins to crisp.
Add the shallot and chopped garlic and cook 4-5 mins until slightly softened and translucent.
Add the tomatoes, and cook for 2 mins until slightly soft. Season with salt and lots of black pepper.
Drain the lentils and add into the tomato, bacon, shallot mixture. Taste for seasoning and adjust if necessary. Lid and keep warm.
When ready to serve, fold in chopped coriander (or basil), sliced spring onions and squeeze in the juice from the lemon.
Slice the tuna logs into sliced using a sharp knife.
Plate the warm salad onto a plate, reheating slightly if necessary (room temp is just fine).
Lay the tuna slices over the warm lentil salad.
Season the exposed cut sides of the tuna with a little salt (Fleur de Sel or Maldon preferred for texture)
Finish with the spring onion julienne and fresh herbs.