It wobbles, it jiggles, it's straight out of the beginning of the middle of the last century. It's wonderful. It's tuna mousse. Wrong, somehow. But wonderful. And inhalable. I revive the recipe every year when heat threatens and I won't cook indoors. We are in for a possibly unprecedented week.
We - the Frenchman and I - used to eat it on our rooftop in Cobble Hill, accompanied by Don Estorbo (de la Bodega Dominicana - a bodega cat before bodega cats were cool), with a wide view over New York Harbor. In those days we had a single, room airconditioner, whose roaring was no match for the baking heat. The rooftop was our evening escape.
Tuna...is overfished. Try and find pole-caught tuna: American Tuna, Wild Planet, or Whole Foods 365 brand are better choices. Walk past the Starkist. You are better than Starkist.
Tuna Mousse
The beauty of this decadent, 60's-suggestive mousse is that it goes with all the crunchy, healthy things: celery stalks, crisp cucumber spears, carrot sticks, endive leaves, snap peas (halved lengthwise), long breakfast radishes or round, stout ones, quartered.
Tuna Mixture:
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1 Tablespoon ketchup
4 cornichons (tiny cucumber pickles)
1 Tablespoon capers
2 Tablespoons lemon or lime juice
Freshly ground black pepper
1 packet (1 Tablespoon) gelatin
For the tuna mixture: Combine the ingredients and whizz in a food processor till smooth. No food processor? Chop the capers and cornichons finely, then mash everything with a fork in a mixing bowl bowl.
Wobble mixture: In a small bowl, combine the gelatin and the extremely hot water and stir until the gelatin has dissolved.
Add the gelatin mixture to the tuna mixture and whizz/mash again.
Taste. Assess the salt, pepper and lemon juice situation. Adjust.
Transfer the tuna mousse mixture into a small bowl or mold. Chill for at least 2 hours. To unmold, slide a knife dipped in hot water around its edges, cover with the serving plate, and shake until it plops out.
It wobbles. See?
Of course, you can also eat it with a good baguette, or dark brown Scandi bread. Or crackers. Or a spoon. Or on your own, with no one else watching.
Here's a bonus picture of Storbie, aka Estorbo loco, aka The Don.
Gone, never forgotten. Eeep.
Oh, how i miss Don de Estorbo. His blog was so fun. I read it out loud to so many friends that they used to ask me what the black cat was up to. We all grieved with you when he died.
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