Saturday night at Sushi of Gari, literally right downstairs from our apartment.

Near plate: sashimi platter. Highlight was the garlic-miso seared swordfish (I think) on the far left. The quality of the fish was pretty unmatched, and I liked that the waitress walked me through everything on my plate (although, clearly, it didn’t stick with me once I was busy eating it all.)

Far plate: Gari platter. Highlight was some amazing pickled pine nut tuna business, and the spicy tuna roll, but all of it was amazing. The rice-to-fish ratio was perfect, and each of the ingredients in every unique piece felt like they added something, rather than just being overstylized.

Not pictured: Maguro avocado appetizer (blue fin tuna and wasabi sauce on half an avocado); lots of sake.

Dessert: Grom gelato. The girl at the counter was a total sweetheart and cautioned me against my inclination to get their flavor of the month (cinnamon with white chocolate). She was right - it tasted like a Yankee candle. She was also generous with the samples. I tried the crema de grom (organic egg cream with corn biscuits and Columbian “Teyuna” chocolate chips) and nearly committed to a whole scoop of its fantastic flavor and appealing graininess, but ultimately went with my classic pairing of nocciola and tiramisu. Some people are purists and had the vanilla bean and chocolate (see above). I hate to admit it, but the chocolate - more bitter than sweet - was the best of the bunch.

A few weekends ago (July fourth, to be exact), I woke up at 7 a.m. and decided I wanted to go to Stacks for breakfast. Most memorable as of late for my belgian-waffle-with-ice-cream-and-bacon breakfast at an equally ridiculous hour, Stacks is perhaps most valuable for its unwavering willingness to make you anything you want, anytime. 

On the menu are an array of pancake wraps, quaintly named after Hoboken streets, with fillings like scrambled eggs, home fries, bacon and salsa (the Hudson) or egg whites, grilled turkey, swiss and tomato (the Observer). There’s also a list of double-decker deli sandwiches, available all day long. I never order off the menu. But, uncharacteristically, I decided that what I really, really wanted was a tuna melt, wrapped in a pancake, with melted cheddar. So that’s what I ordered. I asked for “a side salad” instead of the fries.

What I got was a giant, twelve-inch pancake, filled with tuna salad and unmelted American cheese, with butter, syrup and a few leaves of iceberg lettuce on the side. I was hardly about to be the girl who sent back a pancake tuna wrap, so with a few quick adjustments, I tailored the meal of my dreams.

I did away with the cheese, syrup, and butter, sliced up the lettuce with my butter knife, and added some of my boyfriend’s fries (as usual, he got the egg white veggie omelette). Please believe me when I tell you this was one of the most spot-hitting and memorable meals I’ve had in recent months.

This morning around 10:30, while drafting an article about upgraded nouveau takes on classic American main-course salads, something began to stir inside me. It was the most distinct craving for a tuna salad sandwich. A childhood relic that’s survived the myriad passage of food trends, everyone has their own idea of what makes a good tuna sandwich: mine were served deconstructed, with halves of toasted pita bread, quarters of fresh lemon, piles of diced celery and onion, a dollop of mayonnaise and the dry white chunk tuna itself (I remember a tradition of draining the tuna water into a dish for our cat, probably something my grandmother used to do).

Part of the fun of eating it was putting together the ingredients, experimenting with ratios and exercising control over the lunch experience. Other kids’ parents made tuna salad differently: with more mayo, or chopped tomato or hardboiled egg, or on multigrain or crustless white bread or kaiser rolls. There was the Wawa hoagie version, with a slice of white American cheese atop the tuna salad. Later, deli counters taught me that shredded lettuce was a stellar addition. Green olives are a recent addition that I’ve picked up, as that’s how my boyfriend grew up eating tuna salad and it turns out they really make it. 

I was skeptical of going out to buy a tuna sandwich. I haven’t worked in this neighborhood long enough to know the bodegas and delis well; I wasn’t sure where I could go for the guarantee of a sandwich that wasn’t too heavy on the mayo or too light on the veggies. So, like any self-respecting girl with a one-hour lunch break, a workplace with a decent kitchen, and a Whole Foods within walking distance, I did the thing that should be obvious when it comes to tuna salad sandwiches.

I made my own.

Perfect tuna salad sandwich:

• 1 6-oz can chunk white tongol tuna in spring water, drained
• 1 + 1/2 tbsp real mayonnaise
• 3/4 cup onion, half yellow and half red, chopped into small pieces
• 7 green olives (Manzanilla is fine; from an antipasto bar marinated in garlic and herbs is better)
• 1 stalk celery
• 1 ciabatta roll

1. Dice the celery, onion and olives. Mix together with tuna and mayonnaise in a bowl until well-combined.
2. Cut roll in half lengthwise and fill with tuna salad. If not eating immediately, place in a brown paper lunch bag. Enjoy. 

Lunch special on Saturday on 1st and 10th.