Cilantro-Avocado Tuna Salad Sandwiches

Last week of February. I've been doing this thing lately where I sit with my coffee on the back porch in the morning and just look at the smoker for a while before anything else starts. It's not meditation — I'm not that evolved — but it's quiet and there's something about seeing the smoker sitting there ready, knowing I can fire it up whenever I want, that settles something in me. Mr. Clarence's rub recipe is worn soft in my wallet. My sobriety chip is next to it. Two things I carry everywhere, neither of which weighs very much.

Made shrimp Creole this week, which I learned on the boats out of Galveston in the nineties. The Cajun guys on the crew made it constantly — a thick tomato-based sauce with bell peppers and celery and onion, the trinity, loaded with fresh Gulf shrimp and served over white rice. I add fish sauce to mine, which is the kind of thing that gets me looks from people who grew up eating it the traditional way. The fish sauce deepens the savory flavor in a way that's not foreign at all to the Cajun palate — they use Worcestershire for the same reason — it's just a different tradition solving the same problem.

Emma called to say the engagement party planning is coming together for next month. She said she wanted a big batch of the shrimp Creole if I was up for it. I said I'd make four pounds of shrimp's worth. She said that was too much. I said no it wasn't. She knows I'm right.

I spent an hour Friday night looking at flights to Ho Chi Minh City. This wasn't planning, exactly — more like reconnaissance. I looked at prices, travel time, layovers, the time of year that would be best to go. March is good: before the summer heat and monsoon season. I looked at photos of the city and thought about what it must look like to someone who left it in 1975 and has never gone back. I thought about Mai standing at thirty-nine thousand feet over the Pacific, going back to a place that doesn't exist anymore except in her memory. I closed the laptop. I needed to think about it more before I could look at it more.

The shrimp Creole feeds a crowd — four pounds’ worth, like I promised Emma — but this is what I make when it’s just me on a Tuesday, still thinking about those flights I pulled up and then closed without booking. It has the same instinct behind it as the fish sauce move: take something familiar, add the herb that bridges two traditions, and trust that the result is going to be better than either one alone. Cilantro does in a tuna salad what fish sauce does in Creole — it shouldn’t work on paper, and then it absolutely does.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 cans (5 oz each) albacore tuna in water, drained well
1 large ripe avocado, pitted and diced
1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves, roughly chopped
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1/4 cup red onion, finely diced
1 small jalapeño, seeded and minced (optional)
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
8 slices sturdy sandwich bread or 4 hoagie rolls, lightly toasted
4 leaves romaine or butter lettuce
4 thin slices ripe tomato

Instructions

Drain and flake. Drain both cans of tuna thoroughly and transfer to a medium mixing bowl. Use a fork to break up any large chunks into a consistent flake — not mush, but no big clumps either.
Build the base. Add the mayonnaise, lime juice, red onion, jalapeño (if using), salt, and pepper. Stir gently to combine, coating the tuna evenly.
Fold in the avocado. Add the diced avocado and fold it in carefully with a spatula or large spoon. You want some pieces to stay intact for texture — don’t mash it in.
Add the cilantro. Fold in the chopped cilantro last, so it stays bright and doesn’t wilt into the mix. Taste and adjust salt and lime as needed.
Toast the bread. Lightly toast your bread or rolls until just golden. This keeps the sandwich from going soggy and gives the filling something to grip.
Assemble and serve. Layer a lettuce leaf on one slice of bread, spoon on a generous portion of tuna salad, top with a tomato slice, and close the sandwich. Serve immediately, or press and wrap tightly if packing for later.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cilantro-Avocado Tuna Salad Sandwiches — The Fish Sauce Instinct That Started on the Boats