Sesame Crusted Tuna

There is nothing that makes this cook happier than browsing through the local grocery ads and finding out that sashimi grade tuna is on sale for $8.99 a pound (which is a steal considering the standard price of $15-18 /lb makes me want to cry.) If I had the freezer space (despite this, the thought still crossed my mind), I probably would have cleaned the store out, but in a rare moment of self-restraint, I only bought a pound. Looking back, I wish I had gotten more. *insert wistful sigh here*

My initial thought was to make sushi and/or sashimi, because well, it was the first and most obvious means of preparation that came to mind. Unfortunately I came home to find that I didn't have any rice prepared and after a long day of work, I'm rather lazy and impatient when it comes to dinner.

In an ode to my favorite local Japanese restaurant Kitcho, I decided to have a go at tuna tataki. For those that don't know, that translates into tuna which is seared on the outside and left raw in the middle. If you want my honest opinion, tuna should never be consumed fully cooked. Unless, of course, you decide to partake in the ever-popular canned variety. (I can't touch the stuff. Eating tuna salad+coming down with the stomach flu in the same day does wonders in making me avoid even the smell of it.) Fully cooking fresh tuna, at least in my experience, tends to dry out the fish and leave it rather lacking in flavor. If left raw, the flesh is tender and sweet and practically melts in your mouth. Who doesn't like that!

Thankfully, tataki is a very simple preparation that can be accomplish successfully by pretty much anyone with a pan and a stove . The meat or fish can be rolled in seasonings or left plain (basic seasoning of salt and pepper not withstanding). I decided to roll mine in sesame seeds because it happens to be a favorite flavor of mine.

One word of advice is to make sure your desired meat or fish is at it's freshest. Obviously there are those warning about eating raw meat for a reason.


I preheated a pan with about a tablespoon of sesame oil on med-high to high heat (I'm cursed with an electric stove, so my temp various. If you have gas, you probably don't have to worry about this...lucky.) The oil is optional, of course, if you are using a nonstick pan.

Once the oil is to a low smoke, carefully lay the tuna in the pan and step away. Don't touch it! Let it cook for about a minute and a half (until the side cooks about 1/8"). If you move it too early, a proper crust won't develop. After the first side is done, flip and cook 1.5 minutes on the other side. You can do this for all sides, but I just did it for the top and bottom. Remember? I'm impatient :)

Take off the heat and let rest for 10 minutes.


This can be presented on top of pretty much any thing or just eaten straight up. I had some asparagus I needed to use, so I simply coated it with salt, pepper and a little olive oil and roasted it for 5-6 minutes at 400 degrees F.

I also served it with quinoa. This was my first time making quinoa. Can't say I really cared for it, but perhaps I didn't prepare it properly. I'll try that again sometime soon.

There is a sauce served with this, but my boyfriend made it. I have no clue how to replicate it. Oh, how I've tried and oh how I've failed. I believe it's a mixture of soy sauce, sesame oil and rice wine vinegar. Either way, it's incredibly delicious. I wish I could steal is Japanese innateness for perfectly balanced sweet/salty/sour sauces. *sigh*




pardon my lack of photography skills

A year later...

I LOVE to bake. I could spend hours making muffins, cookies, cakes and anything else you could possibly think of (as long as my kitchen is clean, of course.) I've not had a good baking session in, well, years. For multiple reasons, the first being that I'm trying to avoid being 800 lbs . My downfall is I eat what I bake. Even if I can manage to give some of it away, I always end up stuffing half of it in my face before it leaves my possesion. The second reason would probably be because I'm OCD about my kitchen being clean when I bake. I'll spend two hours cleaning it and end up too tired to actually make something. Though, at least for the second reason I actually accomplished something more than adding an inch to my waistline.

I stumbled upon a food blog last week that sparked my culinary interest. I forgot how much I truely enjoy the act of preparing food, especially during the cooler months (the last thing I need is a hot oven adding to the already 100 degree summer weather. In the winter, however, the oven eliminates the need for a heater.)

With the season changing, I have a whole new arsenal of food to work with. I'm not a huge fan of squashes, unfortunately, but there are other seasonal fruits with which I would enjoy cooking and experimenting. Persimmons being at the top of the list.

Taka sent me a website the other day that, after I asked, "Why am I staring at an orange tomato," I discovered was for a persimmon orchard. Now, I've never seen a persimmon, let alone eaten one, so I'm excited about treking out and picking some of my own. (This is a lie; I'll get through one lb and I'll be asking for the prepicked baskets. Especially if there are bees. *shudder*)

I did a little research on the persimmon flavor and how I could use it. Apparently the flavor is hard to describe, but it's something akin to a pumpkin pie flavored apple. Tears of joy followed.

EDIT:

So I've since been persimmon picking and we came back with 17.5 pounds of sugary sweetness. After my first taste, I was a bit torn. The fruit itself is really sweet, but the flavor is incredibly mild (almost nonexistant). It's mostly just sweet. While peeling the skin, I was overcome with the smell of pumpkin, so my initial thoughts of naturally occuring pumpkin pie fruit seemed to be supported, but upon tasting it, it didn't really come off like pumpkin. Or anything, for that matter. I guess I was a little disappointed. I had expected the flavors to be stronger. On the plus side, the little buggers are packed full of beta-cerotine and vitamin A, so even if they don't taste like much, at least their are good for you. Minus the massive amounts of sugar, that is. Hey, it's natural sugar!

I managed to unload most of the bulk on unsuspecting family and friends, but if my tenderly picked fruit end up as fertilizer, I wont be offended. Apparently they are an aquired taste. So, my final conclusion is that I don't particularly like fuyu persimmons, but I can't say that I dislike them either.

I think I shall use up the rest of my supply in some persimmon bread. Mmm mm

More pictures from persimmon picking...