Having said that, a few months ago, I saw a gorgeous curried tuna salad sandwich on Kath Eats. Because the tuna salad is used in her Great Harvest store, she can’t share the recipe for it. I cried a little bit. I softly stroked the image of that sandwich on the screen…told it I was sorry that we could not yet rendezvous. You get the idea.

Well, I must have caught a whiff of muffins baking or gotten distracted by the UPS man bringing me another Piperlime box, because I got over that sandwich like a bad habit.

Okay, end scene.

Last week, I was shaving my legs in the shower and it struck me that I use curry a lot. Normal shower thoughts, right?

And then, I remembered that we were out of tuna. Which was fine, because I was making my pilgrimage to Wegman’s that day. Are you still with me?

And then the dogs all started barking wildly – probably UPS with another Piperlime box. Well bingo, right there, the idea for a curried tuna salad was born.

True story.

If curried chicken salad revs your motors, then tuna is going to really get your knickers in a bunch, especially if you aren’t a big fan of tuna for tasting so fishy. This mixture of mayo, spices, honey, lime, and fruit mellow the flavor of that canned fish into something that, er, tastes like chicken.

I like this between thick, freshly cut slices of some hearty type of bread (whole wheat, multi-grain, anything else that looks like it will imminently move your bowels), but couldn’t resist those adorable mini potato rolls in the picture.

Because I think everything taste better when it’s mini-fied. But, let’s not call it an obsession – just a strong interest

Help.

Curried Tuna Salad

2 7-ounce cans of tuna, drained
1/2 cup apple, diced
1/3 cup celery, diced
1 tablespoon raisins, minced
1 tablespoon dried cranberries, minced
1/2 cup mayonnaise
2 teaspoon lime juice
1/2 teaspoon honey
1 teaspoon fresh parsley, minced
1 teaspoon fresh mint, minced
2 teaspoon curry powder

In a medium bowl, flake the tuna, breaking up most of the larger chunks.

In a small bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, lime juice, honey, parsley, mint, and curry powder. Pour the mixture over the flaked tuna and stir to combine. Fold in the apple, celery, raisins, and dried cranberries until everything is equally coated.

Serve or store in the refrigerator in a tightly covered container.

He could be all “bestthingieverate” on Monday, but if he sees the same meal or any parts thereof it on Tuesday, he’s all “keep on walkin’ I aint talkin’ to ya.”

I, on the other hand, love leftovers.  But, then again,  this isn’t a popularity contest.

When he and I first moved in together, I continually tried to pawn off last night’s meals, and he continually picked around his plate, so as to not offend (obviously we weren’t married yet) and then proceed to chomp through a bag of pretzels “for dessert.”

One day, I finally got hip and decided to stop re-gifting yesterday’s dinner but disguise it instead. I won’t admit how long it actually took me to tap into this terribly unoriginal thought, but let’s just say that domestic drudgery tends to dull the mind.

The soup I’m sharing with you today is now a staple in the house, but culminated from one of those leftovers scenarios.   I had made Chicken Tikka Masala one evening.  Apparently I was expecting an army, because I had an indecent amount leftover.

Inspiration struck.  I grabbed a fork and fished out the pieces of chicken, leaving behind all that delectably creamy, piquant sauce. I considered swimming in it for just a few seconds but  I didn’t really want all those tomato chunks in my hair.  Instead, the chicken got repurposed into curried chicken salad and the sauce, with the help of a little broth, became a soup.

Sure, I felt like a whacko fishing slippery chicken chunks out of the soup.  With my fingers no less.  (I keep it classy.)  But I hate wasting food more than I hate a little sauce under my nails.

Long story short, Mr. Hausfrau happily slurped it down the next evening.  Only after the dinner dishes were put away did I smugly tell him that HE ate leftovers and HE actually liked it.  Ha ha, victory was mine!

He shrugged and asked me if I knew where the remote control was.

Then he asked me when I would make the soup again.

(Because there were no leftovers that time.)

Tomato Masala Soup

(loosely adapted from Cooks Illustrated)

1 tablespoon ghee

1 medium onion, roughly chopped

2 garlic cloves, minced

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 tablespoon garam masala

1 14-ounce can crushed tomatoes

1 14-ounce can tomato sauce

1 tablespoon brown sugar or honey

1 tablespoon dried cilantro

2 cups broth (chicken, vegetable or beef )

1 cup full fat coconut milk, plus more for garnish

Heat the ghee in a large dutch oven over medium heat.  Add the onions and saute until browned, stirring frequently.  Add garlic, ginger, and garam masala.  Stir until the onions are coated and cook until the spices are fragrant.  Add the tomato paste and work it into the onion mixture.  Add the crushed tomato, tomato sauce, brown sugar, cilantro and broth, stirring well to get up the stuck-on bits at the bottom of the pan.  Bring to a boil and reduce heat to low.  Cover and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Remove the pot from the heat and allow the mixture to cool 15 minutes.

Working in batches, puree the soup in a blender until smooth.  Return the pureed mixture to the pot and stir in the coconut milk.  Heat until steaming and serve, garnished with more coconut milk.

If you’re anything like me, you busted out your favorite pair of boots on the first early September afternoon that dipped below 73 degrees.  You and your boots went traipsing around town, running errands, and eventually marveling at how much your calves could actually sweat.  Maybe the boots were a bad idea.

You found yourself at Whole Foods for a couple of odds and ends.  And air conditioning.

As you stumbled through those electronic gates of food heaven, you forgot about the eggs, the milk, bread and toilet paper (Were you expecting a snowstorm?).  Because right there, RIGHT THERE, were the season’s first Honeycrisp apples.  So you bought a few (pounds).

Over the next several days, you rejoiced in your Honeycrisps.  You ate them morning, noon, and night, then dreamt about them for the next day.  You offered them lovingly to your husband.  He said they were too tart and you refused to talk to him for the rest of the week.

And then you woke up one day and the thought of another f-ing apple thoroughly revolted you.  Just the sound of that initial CCCCRRRRunch and SSSSlurp of the first bite really tweaked every last nerve.  You bagged up the last of your apples and chucked them into the fridge,  behind the wilting celery you always buy just in case you want to make tuna salad and ultimately throw away because you never make tuna salad.

So, here we are, almost midway through October.  And the apples – how can you forget about them?  Their perfume greets you every time you open the refrigerator.  The smell gets the dogs, too, because they occasionally try to catapult themselves into the fruit drawer when you open the fridge.  What’s a little dog fuzz in the cream cheese anyway?

You could throw the apples away, but that’s just too easy.  So is apple crisp.  And applesauce (Besides, you have a pound of that in the freezer from last year.  You never learn from your mistakes.).   Apple pie is out of the question because you have an irrational fear of pie crust.

What to do?  What to do?  You’re standing at the refrigerator, door wide open, and yes, you ARE trying to cool the whole neighborhood.  INDEED, you have invited penguins for dinner.  But in the meantime, you spy the butter.  The grass-fed butter that is holycrapsogood.  I mean, how can butter taste even more buttery?  What kind of grass are these cows eating??  Maybe I should eat some, too?

Anyway, you grab the butter, the apple cider, and the last of those apples.  You grab some cinnamon.  On second thought, the curry powder, too.  Now, we’re talking.

Slicing and sauteing ensues and, ten minutes later, you have something good. Like, really good.  You’re all abuzz with ideas on how to use these beautiful buttery, curried apples.  Soup garnish!  Salads!  Turkey Sandwiches!  OH the possibilities!

But oops you’re all out of apples.

Lordy, here we go again.

Curried Apples

2 large apples, peeled and sliced into 1/4 inch slices

1/4 cup apple cider or apple juice

2 Tablespoons butter

1 Tablespoon curry powder

1 teaspoon cinnamon

salt, to taste

1) In a 12 inch frying pan, melt the butter over medium-low heat.  Once the butter begins to sizzle, add curry powder and cinnamon to the butter and stir until incorporated and fragrant.

2) Add sliced apples to the skillet and toss to fully coat the apples with the butter mixture.  Turn up the heat to medium and saute the apples for 5 minutes, stirring frequently until the apples begin to soften and gently brown.

3) Pour the apple cider over the apples and continue sauteing the apples an additional 5 minutes, stirring frequently, until the cider has reduced and the apples are soft and glazed.

4) Serve immediately or store the apples in the refrigerator in a tightly covered container.