Why blog about a tuna sandwich? Why not?! Tuna sandwiches are as vintage as they come and people still love to eat them. I’ll share my recipe with you because I think you’ll love it. Let’s do this!
Don’t talk to me about anything but white albacore tuna. Don’t talk to me about tuna in water or just tuna (that would be dark meat), and do not mention the stuff packed in oil. Seriously. I think there’s a place for that stuff in Italian cooking and I have a distant memory of trying some once and my husband running for the hills. Please. Let’s keep things solid packed white albacore, k? The expensive stuff. The goooood stuff! So drain a couple cans and put the tuna in a bowl.
Don’t talk to me about Miracle Whip. There’s nothing miraculous about it, is a matter of fact it’s a tragedy in a jar. I have a memory of me at 7 years old eating a rubbery ham sandwich(you know the stuff injected with lots of water?), slathered with Miracle Whip. . . . on potato bread. In a corn field, on a farm, in Missouri. Stop it! To this day me and potato bread do not get along and I haven’t been back to Missouri, although not because I don’t like it just because there hasn’t been a reason. But I have that memory. Come to think of it I had two sandwich tragedies on that trip, the rubber ham being one and the other being peanut butter smeared on Wonder bread and sprinkled with sugar. I think that was the last time I had Wonder Bread. What’s with that?! There’s nothing wondrous about it, just like Miracle Whip. I wonder if they’re owned by the same company. . . .
Obviously there were no adults around, they were probably out harvesting the corn, but I specifically remember the bathroom downstairs off the kitchen, where I spent a lot of time. Stupid. I mean I was seven years old and I have these bold vivid memories of these things. Oh! And while we’re talking about food, I should tell you that on the trip home, my dad and I were in the airport (in Missouri) waiting for our plane when I must have spied flan. That’s right. Flan. In Missouri. It’s even weirder now when I think of it, than back then. Anyway, my dad being a dad, either not knowing the culinary disaster I had suffered in previous days, or didn’t give a darn, bought me that flan. I’m thinking I wanted it because it was pretty and I like pretty things, I mean I stole bright pink buttons when I was four because I could not resist the color pink! Anywho I remember gagging on the flan. In the airport, I gagged on flan, when I was seven years old. In Missouri. Ask me if I like flan. I dare you.
So let’s make a little mix. . . mayonnaise, relish. . .
This picture really isn’t showing just how large this can of mustard is. It’s honestly about 7 inches high. It’s gargantuan!
Note the darkness of the bread. I like DARK bread. Dark bread with nuts and seeds and grit in it! No mushy mushy! I’m sure subconsciously it’s because I suffered trauma in Missouri. I just know it. Honestly I didn’t even know this about myself nor did I know I would share my bread and condiment horror story with you all, but I think I may have uncovered something here!
Some crunchy green onion and celery make the whole deal. Throw in a few Craisins if you like more of a sweet bite.
- 1 large can solid packed white albacore tuna (I like Bumble Bee), drained
- 1 green onion, chopped
- 1 celery rib, finely chopped
- ½ cup real mayonaise
- 1 tsp. dry Coleman's Mustard
- 1 heaping T. sweet pickle relish
- ½ tsp. black pepper
- Place the mayo, mustard, relish, pepper, onion and celery in a small bowl and mix to combine.
- Mix it in the tuna.
- Heap the tuna mix on a piece of bread and top with lettuce and another piece of bread.