Yesterday afternoon, I got to work. It took about nine seconds for me to start seriously questioning myself. I believe nine seconds is exactly how long it takes to open a can of tuna. Thus, nine seconds until the smell of canned tuna wafts into your life.
I pressed on. I added the grated cheese. I added the finely diced onion. I added some drained Greek yogurt (like you can buy creme fraiche in Dickson...please). I added parsley and salt and pepper. I added eggs. And I thought maybe, just maybe this wasn't so bad. Then I realized that I forgot to add the tomato paste. And, bam, we crossed into uncharted territory. The batter looked positively revolting. Like really, really chunky thousand island dressing. And it still smelled like tuna. Tuna and tomatoes and Gruyere.
What, that doesn't sound appealing to you either?
Still, I boldly forged ahead.
The entire time they were baking, I kept making myself think of something other than the smell. When they were finished baking, I kept making myself think of something other than how they looked. I questioned my sanity multiple times. Why on Earth did I think I would enjoy something that literally translates into tuna corks?
After they cooled a bit, I decided I was going to have to try one to see if I would have to order pizza. I picked one up from the cooling rack. I smelled it. I looked at it. I gagged a little. I ordered pizza online.
When L came to pick up S, I made some faces at them and talked about them and decided I really did owe it to Molly to try. We're close personal friends, you know. So I cut a little wedge from one and ate it. And you know what? It wasn't bad. Not anywhere near as bad as the canned tuna smell or the baked thousand island appearance. In fact, they were almost good. They were intriguing. A strange texture that I can't actually compare to anything really. Somewhere in the neighborhood of a frittata. Just the same, I loaded those suckers up and sent them home with L, and S apparently liked them quite a bit.
Now I've been thinking about them all day, wondering if I gave up too soon. Who knows? What I do know is that I doubt I'll muster the courage to give bouchons au thon a second try because even if I'm intrigued, I don't think I can stomach the eau de canned tuna again.