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I eat tuna fish every day for lunch. That's all I ever have.

If you ever want to eat a tuna sandwich again, don't go to a tuna factory. I visited one where they had two lines: one was the human food line and one was the cat food line - and they didn't look any different.

Sometimes I dress like what I want for lunch, because all I can think about is having a tuna sandwich.

Whenever possible, buy a fish whole. With tuna, this isn't practical; with smaller fish, it is.

I missed a tuna-fish sandwich with mayo on toasted wheat bread more than anything. Six months after I went vegan, I snuck into a deli and took one home. And, of course, it wasn't nearly as good as I fantasized. It tasted, well, fishy.

A chunk of seared albacore tuna, salted and peppered, then seared rare in a little oil in a hot skillet for just a minute or so per side, is the perfect addition to a savory plate of fried rice. Just slice the tuna across the grain and fan those mild, meaty slices over the top of the rice.

The best meal I've had was in Tavarua, an island in Fiji. It was just before sunset. A bunch of guys had just caught all this yellow fin tuna; they literally brought this huge wooden table down to the sand, pulled the tuna from the boat, dropped it on top of the table, pulled the skin off and sliced the tuna up.

I like tuna when there's a definite streak of deep pink in the middle, medium rare so to speak, and it comes out best when it's not cut too thick.