Things in Tins + More Mom Stuff

Three Ways with Tinned Tuna, Three Books on Mothering

Read

I’m not a mom but I do enjoy exploring the topic. And there’s so much to read lately! I’m glad the publishing industry is opening up to shining light on women’s inner experiences (good and bad) rather than just sticking to the shiny stuff (or, worse, avoiding the topic altogether). Below, three wildly different takes on the theme. Plus, three ideas for tinned fish. 

Splinters by Leslie Jamison, pub. 2024
Buy: Bookshop.org or your local bookstore

After gobbling up Leslie Jamison’s New Yorker essay and learning it was an excerpt from her upcoming memoir, I immediately pre-ordered. When it arrived, I couldn’t wait to crack it open. Upon finishing, I have to admit I was torn. I adore memoir but despise when it tips into even the lightest narcissism (even though I know that’s sort of the point) and (these days especially) ignores obvious privilege. That said, I think it’s some of the most reflective, truthful, beautiful writing on motherhood I’ve read, probably ever, and if you’re curious to read a story about the simultaneous fraying of a marriage and raising of a child, this book’s for you. Jamison’s brilliance is her technical ability to write a sentence about the smell of shit and make it poetic, even meaningful. She draws motherhood as her savior as her marriage disintegrates, then, after the fact, feels the twin pull of work and child-rearing (she bears most of the responsibility). It is her own mother who steps in as a partner proxy, cocooning with her in the early days of motherhood, then accompanying her and her infant on a 40-city book tour. Jamison has major daddy issues which she correlates with years of perfectionist tendencies, a drinking problem and an eating disorder; then, in the same breath, she alludes to dalliances with men who flout responsibility and seem to skate by on a remembrance of youth. There are moments of acute self-awareness coupled with irresponsible, selfish choices, which made me wonder just how deep that awareness actually goes. I’m not sure it matters but I left feeling tepid about the book despite her obvious talent. If you read it – please let me know your thoughts!

Territory of Light by Yuko Tsushima, translated from the Japanese by Geraldine Harcourt, pub. 1978 
Buy: Bookshop.org or your local bookstore

A Japanese novel that was originally published in twelve parts, Territory of Light tells the story of a year in the life of an unnamed woman, recently abandoned by her husband and left to raise their two-year-old daughter alone. (Tsushima – hailed as one of the most important feminists in the history of Japanese literature – wrote this book while also raising her child alone; an early example of autofiction?) She apartment-hunts and settles into a tiny fourth-floor flat (which she measures in tatami mats) whose light she wants to bask in and curl into. The novel follows the narrator and her daughter through the rituals and grind of single parenthood: waking up hungover and having to make breakfast, the constant rush and feeling of everything slipping, the burden of being a woman in the world with little support (emotional or otherwise). It’s also a story of freedom, free-falling, and choosing a different path despite its challenges. Sparely written (as is the Japanese way) but transfixing in its emotional resonance, the novel is equal parts bare and lush. We witness our heroine’s grip on her responsibilities begin to slip (yet her independence never does) as she rides the waves of solo life with a toddler: the sweet heat of her body; the depravity of her tantrums. I loved Tsushima’s candid, sometimes trippy descriptions of what motherhood entails and asks of women; by the end you and the narrator both see the light. 

The Changeling by Joy Williams, pub. 1978
Buy: Bookshop.org or your local bookstore

Trying to write about The Changeling is like attempting to describe an LSD trip after you’re fully cogent, or like going to the gym without ever having lifted a weight and attempting to deadlift a 200-pound barbell: You pull, it refuses to give. I almost didn’t write about this novel because it is slippery, strange and seemingly impossible to explain. Then I decided that those were the very reasons I needed to attempt to write about it. The Changeling is eerie, boundless and magical, filled with characters both human and animal. There is a timeline but it’s meaningless; it’s fantastical and evokes magical realism yet your instinct as a human reader is to assign it the characteristics of a regular book: This is a fruitless task. The joy of this book is its strangeness, its refusal to adhere to any rules we believe exist in the writing of novels. After finishing the final page I read no fewer than ten reviews; every single one of them had a different take on what actually happens. What we can agree on: It follows our main character, Pearl, a lost soul who is literally picked off the street by a man named Walker, taken to a hotel room, impregnated, then brought to the remote island where he lives with his off-kilter family and a slew of children ‘collected’ by Walker’s creepy brother, Thomas. Pearl gives birth and manages to escape from the island with her infant son, Sam. She experiences a few hours of freedom (which she spends at a bar swilling gin with the baby crooked in her arm) before she’s found by Walker and taken back. Pearl’s life back on the island consists of drinking heavily (her horizon is divided not into day and night but gin and wine) and accompanying the children (or are they animals?) on feral adventures in an attempt to avoid the cold stares of the adults she must call her family. The children treat her like a mother, a tree: climbing over her limp frame, craving her adult opinion. She fears her biological son (or is he in fact someone else’s son?) and has visions of an old woman on the island rearing him, imbuing him with abilities that aren’t human. If all of this sounds bizarre, you’d be right. But Joy Williams’ writing pulls you like a tide; in order to enjoy it you have to give in to the fact that this book isn’t like the others.

Eat

Tinned fish is having its It Girl moment. I myself can’t get enough. Below are three preparations that go beyond just opening the tin and adding it to a snack platter or salad. I used tuna below, but trout, mackerel and salmon would all be great subs. Remember to buy *good* tinned fish, meaning responsibly sourced (and oil-packed; never water!). It really does make a difference. (I love Siesta Co.!)

Tonnato

If you love tuna salad, meet its sexy counterpart: Tonnato is an Italian condiment usually consisting of blended tuna, anchovies, mayo, lemon and olive oil. My version is thicker (think spreadable and dippable) and, much as I adore anchovies, I leave them out because I think it makes it too fishy. You can serve this as a crudite dip, spread it on toast, or do as I do and pile a tangle of seasonal roasted veg on top (it’s especially good with tomatoes). 

Tonnato
Serves 1 for a meal or 4 for a snack

1 tin tuna in evoo (not drained)
2 tablespoons aioli (or mayo)
Juice from ½ lemon
1 teaspoon olive brine (optional but I love it)
Maldon and pepper, to season

Tip everything except the salt and pepper into the bowl of a small food processor and blend until creamy. Season with a pinch of Maldon and pepper and taste. It should be fucking delicious.

Tuna Salad but Make It Middle Eastern

A Mediterranean take on everyone’s favorite classic. I like spooning it into little gem leaves for an easy meal or snack.

Middle Eastern Tuna Salad
Serves 1-2

1 tin tuna in evoo (not drained)
2 tablespoons tahini
Pinch each of sumac, aleppo pepper, and urfa biber
6 kalamata olives, pitted and chopped
½ teaspoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon minced shallot
½ teaspoon preserved lemon peel, minced (optional)
¼ teaspoon pomegranate molasses
6 toasted almonds, chopped
A few parsley leaves, picked
A few dill fronds, picked

Add everything to a bowl and mix well enough that the tuna breaks up and everything is coated with the tahini and olive oil. I don’t add salt here because preserved lemons are salty enough, but you might want to if you don’t add them.

California Nicoise

The perfect salad, made the west coast (aka my) way. I make this all summer long for dinner parties; I’ve even been known to serve it directly from a baking sheet due to lack of appropriately sized serving dishes. The goal here is to perfectly season each element and to keep them separate on the plate. Be sure to taste each bit to make sure it’s delicious before plating!

Cali Nicoise
Serves 4-6

2 tins tuna in evoo (drained)
1 handful haricots verts, trimmed and blanched
6 Japanese sweet potatoes, boiled until fork-tender, then halved
½ sheet pan of roasted tomatoes
A few shallots, roasted whole in a 400F oven until they collapse, about 30 minutes, then peeled (optional but yum)
1 bunch kale, de-stemmed and massaged with lemon juice, evoo and Maldon (the photo above shows chicories, which is what I had, but use any green in your fridge!)
4 jammy eggs, halved (for jammy eggs, simmer for 7 minutes, then remove to cool)
1 handful olives (nicoise, cerignola or kalamata, pitted)
Vinaigrette: Dijon, red wine vinegar, evoo
1 lemon
Evoo
Maldon and pepper, to season

Make a quick vinaigrette by stirring together 2 tablespoons Dijon and 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar, then slowing drizzling in 5-6 tablespoons evoo until emulsified. Season with Maldon and pepper. 

Heat a cast iron pan to medium-high heat and add a glug of evoo. Add the Japanese sweet potatoes, flesh-side down, and cook until caramelized. (You can also grill these!)

To plate the salad: Toss your haricots verts, kale and shallots *separately* in the vinaigrette. Nestle each veg separately onto a large serving platter. Add your Japanese sweet potatoes and tuna to the platter, drizzle with the vinaigrette and season with Maldon and pepper. Now add the roasted tomatoes, eggs and olives. Season the eggs with salt and pepper and serve.