Tuna Potato Supper

The appointment. I went. I sat in a chair in an office on Jefferson Highway and talked to a woman named Dr. Tran who is small and calm and has a voice like the bayou on a windless day. She asked me what brought me in and I said, "Hurricane Katrina," and then I talked for fifty minutes straight without stopping, and when I was done she said, "That's a lot of water, Tommy." A lot of water. She said it like she meant more than Katrina. She meant the flood. The insomnia. The cottage. Mama falling. The years of not sleeping. The years of listening for something that isn't there. A lot of water. Yes. It is.

She didn't fix me. That's not how it works, and I knew that going in. But she listened. And the listening was different from Danielle's listening — not better, not deeper, but different. Professional listening. The kind of listening that hears the words you're not saying underneath the words you are. She heard the Katrina. She also heard the Joey, and the cottage, and the fear that the world I come from is disappearing, and the weight of trying to preserve it with a wooden spoon and a brick pit and a recipe card taped to the spice cabinet.

I'm going back next week. And the week after. And the week after that. This is not a one-pot fix. This is a slow cook. This is the gumbo of healing: dark roux, long simmer, patience, and the willingness to keep stirring when you want to turn off the stove and walk away.

Made a simple grilled redfish for dinner — nothing elaborate, nothing complex. Lemon. Butter. Salt. The fish on the grill, three minutes per side. Sometimes after pouring your whole self out in a therapist's office, you don't need a four-hour gumbo. You need a three-minute fish. You need the simplest thing. You need the fire and the fish and the plate and the family and the knowledge that you did a hard thing today and the hard thing was the right thing and the right thing deserves a good dinner.

I didn’t have redfish in the house that night — what I had was a couple cans of tuna, some potatoes, and the particular kind of exhaustion that comes from telling your whole story out loud to a stranger for the first time. This tuna potato supper is what Mama used to make when things were tight and the body needed feeding more than it needed impressing. That night, after Dr. Tran and all that water, it was exactly right — plain, warm, filling, and honest, like the best things always are.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and diced into 1-inch cubes
2 cans (5 oz each) solid white albacore tuna, drained
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup frozen green peas
1/4 cup chicken broth or water
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped (optional)

Instructions

Boil the potatoes. Place diced potatoes in a medium saucepan, cover with cold salted water, and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Cook 12–15 minutes until fork-tender. Drain and set aside.
Sauté the aromatics. In a large skillet over medium heat, melt butter. Add the diced onion and cook 4–5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Add the tuna and broth. Flake the drained tuna into the skillet. Pour in the broth and stir gently to combine. Let it cook together for 2 minutes so the tuna absorbs the flavor.
Add potatoes and peas. Add the drained potatoes and frozen peas to the skillet. Stir to combine everything evenly. Cook 3–4 minutes over medium heat until the peas are warmed through and the potatoes have absorbed some of the pan juices.
Season and finish. Squeeze lemon juice over the pan. Season with salt, black pepper, and smoked paprika. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed. Remove from heat.
Serve. Spoon into bowls or onto plates. Scatter chopped parsley over the top if using. Serve warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Tuna Potato Supper — Simple Food for Hard Days