Mayo-Free Mediterranean Tuna Salad Sandwiches Recipe

Some folks just don't like mayo. I can't pretend to understand them, but I know they exist, and I respect how frustrating it can be to avoid mayo given how ubiquitous the sauce is, especially in classic American salads like tuna. When I'm going mayo-free, I like to take a Mediterranean approach to the dish, tossing the tuna with a generous amount of good olive oil, briny capers, olives, and vegetables like celery, fennel, and red onion.

So let’s talk tuna: If you want a really good mayo-free tuna salad, shelling out for fancy oil-packed tuna can make a big difference. Price alone, though, isn't the best gauge. The main problem with canned and jarred tuna is dryness. Most of the meat that comes from tuna is very lean, and the high heat of the canning process can severely dry it out. This is often the case with higher-end tuna as well. Oil-packed fish is usually better than water-packed, since the oil helps coat the dry fish protein and make it seem moister. Even more helpful is to invest in a fattier cut of tuna, most often sold by Spanish companies under the name ventresca, which comes from the much fattier belly (think of the difference between regular lean akami sashimi and fatty toro). I like the ventresca from both Ortiz and Tonnino. Make no mistake, though; this stuff isn't cheap.

You may wonder whether you can get away with a lesser canned tuna, shredding it as finely as possible, as in the mayo version above, then bathing the whole thing in olive oil to moisten it up. I'd discourage that here, since you'll end up dumping a ton of extra oil into the dish to compensate for the dry tuna, and, unlike mayo, that much oil will become overwhelmingly greasy and heavy. This is a dish for which you're much better off using the moister ventresca tuna and not breaking down the fish into tiny shreds.

You may wonder whether you can get away with a lesser canned tuna, shredding it as finely as possible, then bathing the whole thing in olive oil to moisten it up. I'd discourage that here, since you'll end up dumping a ton of extra oil into the dish to compensate for the dry tuna, and, unlike mayo, that much oil will become overwhelmingly greasy and heavy. This is a dish for which you're much better off using the moister ventresca tuna and not breaking down the fish into tiny shreds.

Instead, I like to flake the fish with my fingers into roughly half-inch chunks, though there's no need for any kind of exactness here.

Then, because the fish flakes are bigger, I also cut my vegetables bigger, slicing the celery, onion, and fennel into strips. I rapid-pickle the onion, soaking it in a vinegar bath for 15 minutes, since the tamed raw-onion flavor and the tartness are both improvements.

For the olives, you can use any pitted briny kind, green or black, cut into quarters. A squeeze of lemon juice adds a little more brightness, while parsley gives it a fresh green flavor.

Last but not least, I add a dose of umami, in the form of either fish sauce or anchovy.

Here, I go for fully toasted slices of rustic sandwich bread, like a Pullman loaf, which I brush with olive oil to give them a crunchier bite. A little peppery arugula on the sandwich, and it's all set.