Things wot I Made Then Ate: Tuna salad from tuna steak, large homemade dinner rolls

Two things at once. Can you dig it? Can you split your mind in two and keep track until they both resolve?

The bread rolls were started for part of a chicken sandwich to make use of incredibly expensive leftover chicken breasts. But I got super hungry, like the Tasmanian Devil or the Crystalline Entity, while making the bread so I made Tuna salad to mind the gap of intense hunger and that fairly well minded the whole thing. The tuna is tan tanto delicioso, the chicken sandwich idea will just have to wait.

You know how fish is; you scarf it all down and an hour later you are hungry all over again.

Tuna salad ↑

Bread rolls and this salad↓

We baker types call this shaggy dough. The elements are brought together but only just. No kneading.

We are terribly lazy and casually abusive so this thoughtlessly rough handled dough fits our profile. Even our tenderness is rough. Kind of like petting a dog. The dog is going, "Wow, I wasn't expecting a Rolfing but I do kind of like this. Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop. No really, don't stop."

I don't know why this bread making method isn't more popular. I am not sure but I think I could oil these bowls first and bake them right in these bowls. It's only ten minutes.

On high.

High as it goes.

I can see that this is going to be a two steak deal.

Know what? I just now got so tired of those end pieces of salmon that I bought a bunch of salmon online. Sushi grade. All of it. No more messing around. It should be here in two days.

I wish I had some MSG.

That does it. I'm going to buy some and sprinkle it all over the place like on this tuna. Salt really helps, but MSG would be better. My tuna is now packed in olive oil. Amazing how the cooked fish soaked it up. Rice vinegar. One half lemon. Red chile powder from the enchanting land of New Mexico where everyone trips out being at the focal center of cosmic energy. Man. Get with the program. Everyone's a shaman. Everyone is seeing auras.

Let me tell you about New Mexico.

I was enchanted at age twelve.

My dad bought a car there. For the life of me I do not know why. He drove an older '59 Chevy with fins out to there \<---+++--->/. The automobile was outrageous on the streets of Tokyo in years '64-'67. It ran fine. It looked great. My dad drove the whole family in that car from Travis AFB in northern California, but just then from Tokyo, to northern Louisiana. Dad paused in Albuquerque to buy an Oldsmobile. Another family car. Ridiculously, later I inherited that Oldsmobile. As a form of torture. To force me to learn about cars. V-8, 350 cubic inch engine. It was a solid automobile.

The enchanting part? Cartoons in English. Get this: road runner. Beep-beep. In English. The coyote would hold up a sign and the words "Stop in the name of humanity" were in English and not plastered over with Japanese. On a tiny Japanese t.v. purchased in Tokyo for this road trip, now in a new car and with the same desert background depicted in the cartoon. Cartoons in New Mexico on a tiny t.v. inside a new car with the same enchanting sunlight and mesas and mountains, and dryness and colors outside as in the cartoon.