Sesame-Crusted Tuna with Wasabi Ponzu Sauce

Ok, so lately, Luke has been a knee-bend away from begging me to make healthier meals for my project, with a particular plead for fish. Seems it has a natural power to reduce his cholesterol or something. I wouldn’t know. Whenever he starts talking about lighter meals, I block out his heartbreaking words with loving thoughts of cookie dough ice cream and hollandaise sauce.

“But sweetheart, I’m following Cooking Light recipes, so the hot chocolate fudge cakes and butter-drenched pierogies were healthy. Besides, we wouldn’t want to underestimate the cholesterol-fighting power of your Cheerios, now would we?” 

Honestly, maybe I have been a little drawn to the least light of Cooking Light’s offerings, those recipes that miraculously made it into the cookbook by the skin of their chocolate-covered teeth. But I blame the freezing weather for making me choose juicy, melty comfort food over a salad. And with Christmas just around the corner, can you blame me for having fudge and fruitcake on the brain?

Regardless, his persistent hinting eventually snapped me back into reality. And reality is a cold, dark, deep fried cheese-deficient place. But I’ve got to stick to my original plan to cook light, for my husband’s sake, and my own. (I hate to admit this, but I think I’ve actually gained a little since I started this quest to cook, um, healthy.) So I made a compromise. I’d cook up an ultra nutritious fish dinner, so long as I could splurge just a little on dessert. Deal!

So I was off to find something healthy, yet satisfying. An oxymoron that 100-calorie packs and veggie burgers have yet to conquer. And if that wasn’t hard enough, I wanted something unique. No plain ‘ol steamed tilapia. No battered fish that’s disappointingly baked instead of fried. Or even worse, sushi. It’s beautiful and trendy, and I wouldn’t mind displaying it on my wall, but I just can’t force it past my taste buds.

And by some miracle, I found just what I was looking for while browsing through CL recipe photos online. Granted, the picture was tiny, and I thought it was a piece of chocolate cake covered in walnuts that had accidentally slipped into the seafood category. But hey, I ended up picking it, and that’s all that matters.

I knew it was a meal Luke would instantly take to. See, unlike me, he loves sushi. Seriously loves. And because I seriously gag at the thought, he only gets to enjoy it on rare occasions. (No horribly-bad pun intended.) But this recipe had all kinds of sushi-related flare: wasabi, soy sauce, ginger, tuna. With no seaweed or raw fish in sight. Score!

And while it looks a little crazy, it’s quite simple, so there were only a few ingredients I had to buy. Although, those ingredients did sent me on a bit of a hunt. So if you try this dish, make sure you get unprepared wasabi powder, not the pre-made squeeze bottle stuff. You’ll find it in the organic Asian section. For tuna steaks in the dead of winter, check the freezer. And black sesame seeds? Those will be in tiny over-priced glass bottles with the seasonings. Oh, and if you aren’t sure if that “ginger root” in the produce section is the “fresh ginger” you need, just wait around until another customer picks up a piece, then ask her. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a hippie chick who’ll tell you how to prepare it, too. (Finely mince, or grate with a mini grater. But I actually prefer the rolling pin smash between foil.)

When Sunday night rolled around, I was even more thankful for the recipe’s shortness after a long day of slaving over caramel apple crumb pie. So finally, with a pie cooling, and all my ingredients spread out, I started on the sauce. And what a sauce it was.

 

By far, it was the most fragrant thing I’ve ever made that didn’t involve garlic. Thank you, ginger, oh potpourri of the produce section, for smelling so wonderful and keeping my mood stable. Then it was just one sublime scent after another. Lemon. Orange. Green onion. Wasabi. Just don’t inhale that last one too strongly or you’ll risk singeing your nose hairs.

I’ve actually never been a big fan of wasabi. I think it has something to do with one particular stupid day in high school, when in the girl’s bathroom, I was offered not a cigarette, but my first piece of sushi. Nervous about tasting raw fish, I reached for the pile of green stuff on the side, and thinking it was guacamole, smothered a heaping spoonful all over the sushi to “mask” its flavor.

Why was this all happening in the bathroom, you ask? I can’t remember why I did half the things I did at that age. Maybe because sushi was rebellious? But it turned out to be the perfect location for the meal, because within seconds, I was hacking, spitting and screaming in agonizing unison. And nothing complements flesh-eating grocery store sushi like a beautiful view of the toilet and a handful of water from the sink.

But I was determined to conquer the mouth-murdering mustard once and for all, and you know what? It’s actually pretty good. And fun to prepare, too. You just mix a little water with the powder and it miraculously turns into a green paste, which is then perfectly mellowed out with the soy, honey, brown sugar and rice vinegar in the sauce.

 

 

Once it was all mixed up, I started on the fish. I had the steaks thawing in the fridge for about 12 hours, so after rinsing them off, they were ready to be dredged in seeds. Then I gently laid them in the pan as to not disturb a single sesame, and cooked them on each side for three minutes. The sesame seeds instantly filled the room with a nutty, fragrant aroma as they toasted.

 

 

 

 

But when time was up, the tuna was still hot pink. And me, thinking that pink meant “raw”, thought it best to cook them even longer. And longer. Until I realized that the meat was going to stay pink unless I was going for a hard, dry brick type of dish. I saved them just in time and they turned out great, but the next night I made the meal again, and didn’t cook them for quite so long. (Ok, I still got paranoid and went a little past the three minutes, but they came out perfect.)

 

 

 

The end result was phenomenal. I know phenomenal is a pretty powerful word. And, although I’d still prefer something covered in cheese, or fried, or dipped in chocolate, this meal was beyond my expectation for being so healthy. So it deserves the title. The sauce was spicy, sweet, and absolutely brimming with flavor. The fish was tender, and the sesame seed crust is my new obsession. I’m thinking it would be an excellent coating for chicken, pork and steak as well. And the sauce seems just as versatile. I can see shrimp, chicken skewers or little appetizers being dunked into it in my very near future.

 

 

I served it all up with the perfect salad complement: greens, bean sprouts, carrots, leftover toasted sesame seeds from the pan and a creamy Asian dressing, and a good ‘ol Amber Bock. Luke was in heaven. Although it wasn’t sushi, he knew it was as close as he was gonna get. He asked at least three times, mouth stuffed, lips coated in sesame seeds, if I would “please make this once a week.”

See, when it comes to food, that’s the kind of begging I like to hear.

Sesame-Crusted Tuna with Wasabi-Ponzu Sauce
Yield: 4 servings (serving size: 1 tuna steak and 2 tablespoons sauce)

Cookbook Note: Wasabi comes in different intensities. You may want to experiment with several brands to find the right amount of heat for your taste buds. Some of the sesame seeds might pop out of the pan as the tuna cooks, so use caution and wear an oven mitt as you turn the fish over.

Ingredients:

Wasabi-Ponzu Sauce:
1  tablespoon  chopped green onions
2  tablespoons  low-sodium soy sauce
2  tablespoons  fresh orange juice
1  tablespoon  rice vinegar
1  teaspoon  brown sugar
1  teaspoon  grated lemon rind
2  teaspoons  fresh lemon juice
2  teaspoons  honey
1 1/4  teaspoons  prepared wasabi paste
1  teaspoon  grated peeled fresh ginger

Sesame-Crusted Tuna:
2  teaspoons  vegetable oil
4  (6-ounce) tuna steaks (about 3/4 inch thick)
1/4  teaspoon  salt
3  tablespoons  sesame seeds
2  tablespoons  black sesame seeds
Sliced green onions (optional)

Preparation:
Combine first 10 ingredients, stirring with a whisk.

Heat oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Sprinkle tuna with salt. Combine sesame seeds in a shallow dish. Dredge tuna in sesame seeds. Add tuna to pan; cook 3 minutes on each side or until desired degree of doneness. Garnish with green onions, if desired. Serve tuna with sauce.

Nutritional Information: Calories: 302 (28% from fat), Fat: 9.5g (sat 1.4g,mono 3.5g,poly 3.3g), Protein: 40g, Carbohydrate: 9.9g, Fiber: 0.2g, Cholesterol: 80mg, Iron: 3.2mg, Sodium: 507mg, Calcium: 54mg

Source: Cooking Light, July 2004

Caramel Apple Crumb Pie

Question. What dessert pairs perfectly with an exotic Asian meal like sesame-coated tuna with wasabi-ponzu sauce? Good ‘ol fashioned American apple pie. Nothing like a slice of normal to balance out a daring dish like that.

The closest thing to “exotic” in this pie was the caramel, which I found particularly intriguing. I love caramel-dipped apples, and how perfect would it be to have that great county fair flavor, plus a buttery crust, and none of that nonsense skin that ends up wedged between your teeth? And online reviewers simply praised the pie, so I thought it was definitely worth a shot. (Although, those reviewers failed to mention all the effort and time that was about to be sacrificed on my behalf. Whatever happened to “easy as pie”?)

I must admit that I was a little nervous at the thought of attempting anything close to the peach cobbler, the first dessert of my project. Even though the final result came out good, my clumsy measuring, recipe instruction rebellion and a plastic-wrap fight to the death brought on a little beginner’s dough-making breakdown. But all things get better with time, so I was ready for round two with my rolling pin. Lace up my oven mitts and send me in the ring.

After a few deep breaths and a little Christmas music therapy, I started on the dough. I was scared. Nervous. And unarmed. Seems I forgot to put a dough blender on my registry. So instead, I was forced to use two knives to cut the butter and shortening into the flour. But I was getting nowhere. In the end, it took alternating between cutting with knives and smashing with a fork for much longer than I expected, but I finished victoriously.

 

 

I moved the dough carefully to the table and placed it on top of wax paper. Yes, the recipe actually calls for that clingy stuff from hell, but like I said, I’ve learned that it must be avoided at all costs for the sake of my sanity. (The wax paper works better, by the way.) I’ve also learned that when a recipe says, “do not form into a ball,” you shouldn’t. No matter how much your inner Play Doh-loving child wants to. So I followed the instructions to the tee and rolled out a perfect 12-inch circle, and proudly draped it in the freezer to chill. When it was ready, I placed it into a pie plate with a little foil on the bottom, filled it with poor-man’s pie weights, and baked it.

 

 

 

As I started on the apples and stumbled upon an epiphany. I seriously need an automatic slicer. Not only did I nearly slice more than just the apples, it took quite some time to turn each already small apple wedge into four thin slices. And wasted time is not my friend when I’m baking late at night.

 

 

 

When I was finally done slicing, I sprinkled the apples with cinnamon and sugar and poured the mixture into a pan to cook. I’ve never heard of sautéing apples for a pie, and I’m sure my grandma would be opposed to this “highfalutin” step. But I wasn’t about to argue with the recipe. By the time the kitchen was filled with an apple-cinnamon scent no candle could ever imitate, they were done. I added a little flour and lemon juice and spooned it into the crust.

 

 

 

 

Next was the topping. No dough blender, again, so I was cutting and smashing butter, brown sugar and flour the best I could with cutlery until I had the perfect consistency. Then I lovingly drenched the pie with caramel (definitely the best part), topped it with the streusel, and baked.

 

 

 

 

I tell you, nothing beats the aroma of an apple pie baking in the oven on a cold winter evening. And when I pulled it out of the oven, I felt as though I was pulling it straight out of the 50’s. I’m sure the frilly red Christmas apron I was donning may have had something to do with that, too.

And the pie was pretty delicious. Maybe the first bite wasn’t as amazing as I had anticipated, but with such fantastic reviews and so much surrendered time, I think my expectations may have been a bit unrealistic. I was envisioning a Bree Vandacamp award winning pie. But it was sweet and tart, the crust was perfect, and it just got better and better with each passing day as the flavors melded together in the fridge.

We tried it two ways. Usually my favorite way to eat pie is warmed with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, which in this case meant lots of melty caramel. But there’s almost too much caramel in this pie to be heated up like that. Once it leaves the microwave and gets weighed down by the ice cream, you literally have just seconds before it’s apple stew. Thankfully my quick fingers allowed me to snap these photos before it collapsed.

 

Looks and messiness aside, it was still good. But surprisingly, Luke and I both liked it best cold. There’s just something about this pie that tastes best when its all gelled together and chilled. The flavors come through more and the crust stays crunchier.

Well, it was a long process. My arms and feet were killing me when I was done. But you know what? It turned out to be the best pie I ever made. Even if it is...the only pie I ever made.

Caramel Apple Crumb Pie

Yield: 10 servings (serving size: 1 wedge)

Cookbook Note: In this variation on the classic apple pie, caramel syrup is drizzled over the apples then topped with a crunchy streusel.

Ingredients

Crust:
1  cup  all-purpose flour
1/8  teaspoon  salt
2  tablespoons  chilled butter or stick margarine, cut into small pieces
2  tablespoons  vegetable shortening
3  tablespoons  plus 1/2 teaspoon ice water
1  teaspoon  cider vinegar
Butter-flavored cooking spray
  
Filling:
1  tablespoon  butter or stick margarine
1/2  cup  packed brown sugar
3/4  teaspoon  ground cinnamon
9  cups  sliced peeled Granny Smith apple (about 2 3/4 pounds)
3  tablespoons  all-purpose flour
2  teaspoons  lemon juice

Topping:
1/4  cup  all-purpose flour
1/4  cup  packed brown sugar
2  tablespoons  chilled butter or stick margarine, cut into small pieces
1/4  cup  fat-free caramel sundae syrup

Preparation:
Preheat oven to 375°.

To prepare crust, lightly spoon 1-cup flour into a dry measuring cup; level with a knife. Combine 1-cup flour and salt in a bowl; cut in 2-tablespoons butter and shortening with a pastry blender or 2 knives until mixture resembles coarse meal. Sprinkle surface with ice water, 1 tablespoon at a time; add vinegar. Toss with a fork until moist and crumbly (do not form a ball).

Press mixture gently into a 4-inch circle on heavy-duty plastic wrap; cover with additional plastic wrap. Roll dough, still covered, to a 12-inch circle. Freeze 10 minutes or until plastic wrap can be easily removed.

Remove 1 sheet of plastic wrap; fit dough into a 9-inch pie plate coated with cooking spray. Remove top sheet of plastic wrap. Fold edges under; flute. Line bottom of dough with a piece of foil; arrange pie weights (or dried beans) on foil. Bake at 375° for 15 minutes or until the edge is lightly browned. Remove pie weights and foil; cool on a wire rack.

To prepare filling, melt 1-tablespoon butter in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Combine 1/2-cup brown sugar and cinnamon. Add sugar mixture and apples to skillet; cook 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat; stir in 3 tablespoons flour and lemon juice. Spoon into prepared crust.

To prepare topping, lightly spoon 1/4-cup flour into a dry measuring cup; level with a knife. Combine flour and 1/4-cup brown sugar in a bowl; cut in 2 tablespoons butter with a pastry blender or 2 knives until mixture resembles coarse meal.

Drizzle syrup over apple mixture; sprinkle topping over syrup. Bake at 375° for 30 minutes or until apples are tender. Cool on a wire rack.

Nutritional Information: Calories: 277 (27% from fat), Fat: 8.4g (sat 4.2g,mono 2.4g,poly 1g), Protein: 2.1g, Carbohydrate: 50.1g, Fiber: 2.4g, Cholesterol: 16mg
Iron: 1.3mg, Sodium: 109mg, Calcium: 33mg

Source: Cooking Light, November 1999

Lots of food. Not so much cooking.

For most, Thanksgiving was all about persistent oven peaking, the endless quest for perfect, lump-free gravy, and hours upon hours of mashing, baking, basting stuffing, and carving.  But for me, it was mostly about eating. (Well, and a little shopping.)

The hubby and I headed to my hometown – the small yet charming La Porte, Indiana – for Turkey Day. And while we had no wifi, barely any TV channels, and there wasn’t a Target in sight, we were perfectly content cozied up on Grandma’s couch with a plate of cookies. Good food and good company go a long way.

I originally planned on cooking a big, blog-worthy meal and dessert for my grandma while we were there, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. As always, she’d spent the days before our arrival baking like a mad woman, so we were welcomed with a kitchen chock full of her famous pumpkin and apple pies, chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies and homemade bread.

Just the thought of dismissing all her hard work to bake my own treat seemed a little rude. And even if I wanted to continue stuffing myself after the Thanksgiving feast, her pantry wasn’t quite stocked with the necessities I’m used to. (She buys flour by the 25-pound bag, but there wasn’t a bottle of olive oil or a head of garlic to be found.)

So I kicked up my feet, got caught up on a few weeks of posts I’d been meaning write, and indulged in some good ‘ol fashioned time with Grandma. It was so nice to just get away from everything. Especially that annoying, twitch-inducing sound Entourage makes when I get an e-mail from work.

And our four-day weekend was great. From turkey and sweet potato overload and endless rounds of Euchre, to Black Friday shopping at one. in. the. morning. Yep. It’s tradition around there to hit up the local outlet mall. Unfortunately, it’s also tradition to wait in line for 30 minutes to get into each store. Then again to try on clothes. And again to pay.

But not for me. I zipped past all those freezing cold crazies in line for the Gap, and instead popped into Corningware Corelle Revere, Chef’s Outlet, and Le Gourmet Chef, which were peaceful sanctuaries from the madness in the rest of the mall. And I walked out as happy as a bird with a French fry. Sure, I was exhausted and cold, but I was toting a cherry red Crockpot, a pastry brush (finally!), a beautiful pair of candle holders and a set of mini ramekins. Score for the savvy shopper!

I hope your Thanksgiving was just as fabulous. Although I have no recipe to share, I will make it up. Maybe do double one week. But I was thankful for the break and the chance to catch up. Of course, I’m also thankful for my friends and family, especially my husband, and all the readers who inspire me to continue cooking and writing. I’m already in my third month!

Oh, and I’m also thankful for this awesome antique store find I stumbled upon during our trip.  “Cooking Magic”, a book made up of 12 cookbooks from the 50’s. There’s a section called “cooking with sour cream and buttermilk.” I think I'm in love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After flipping through this book, I really couldn’t wait to get back into the kitchen. And soon you'll see the crazy concoction I cooked up just yesterday. I guess now that I'm totally caught up on posts, I just have to somehow find time to keep it up!

And the cherry on top? My first Cooking Light magazine was sitting on my doorstep when we returned. Just look at all those cookies. Double holiday issue, I really hope you do not double my waistline.

By the way, anyone make anything spectacular for Thanksgiving?