Searing days, searing nights.

3 June 2002—Warm weather is upon us here in the Bay Area. For those of you in the rest of the country, you’re probably thinking, well, duh, it’s just about summer, of course it’s warm. Maybe downright hot where you are. But around these parts, warm weather finally arrives in late May or early June and lasts a couple of weeks, sometimes three in good years, then goes away until October or so. It lasts just long enough for the tiny cherry-sized golden plums on my tree in the back yard to hit ripeness, all of them at once, at which exact moment they all fall off the tree into the garden and burn up in the sun. Mmmm, burning rotting plums that are barely worth eating in the first place. Look, I didn't plant the tree — for some reason they’re very popular in the Bay Area; I’ve had one in my back yard every place I’ve lived.

I did, however, put the garden under that tree. That part is definitely my bad. In my defense, it was March at the time I tore up the earth for the garden, and I hadn’t considered the plum situation to an appropriate degree.

But I digress. The point is, it’s summer, and since it’s so brief, we have to take advantage of it while we can.

I know we live in an age where we don’t really have to wait for a particular season to enjoy the fruits and vegetables that are usually associated with it. Still, when I was standing in the produce section of Whole Paycheck last Saturday evening, I was mesmerized by the corn. Plump ears of white corn with tender green husks (albeit a tad beheaded, or be-eared, if you will) were piled high in the organic section. Though I wish the produce team members (that’s what they’re called at Whole Paycheck) had left the husks complete, with their telltale brown silks bursting out to tell you how ripe they are, they still looked refreshing. I peeled back the top of the husks to see how fat the kernels were — I swear, they had been blown up to capacity like tiny, juicy white balloons, hulls so taut they were sparkling, every one.

I would have made corn soup had I had the time. I’ll have to go to Berkeley Bowl some night soon and get that done.

But I only had a little time, so I decided to make it simple. I had two ears of corn. That much I knew. If the corn wasn’t going to be the main focus of the dish, it would still play a decisive role.

I wandered over to the fish counter to see what might make a good main course. The giant scallops looked ok, but I was looking for a different direction. And there it was, a beautiful piece of sushi-grade ahi tuna, deep red, thick, and from even behind the glass it looked creamy-soft.

That was it, then: seared ahi.

Recently I tried making grilled prosciutto-wrapped tuna, inspired by grilled bacon-wrapped tuna I had at my sister’s seafood, art and wine festival a few years ago. See, I can’t go to the restaurant that made them at the festival, as there was some bad blood between my sister and the owner of the restaurant, but I always had those morsels in the back of my mind. Then, a month or so ago, I was watching Michael Chiarello, whose cooking show is on Saturdays on the public television station, amidst the forest of such cooking shows. Michael got me interested in prosciutto that day. He also made me sorry I hadn’t taken advantage of Molinari’s deli while I worked in North Beach. Shame on me.

The prosciutto-wrapped tuna didn’t work out so well. First off, I should have splurged for the Italian prosciutto, but it was like $20 a pound, as opposed to the domestic, which was maybe half that, and the Italian had a big ring of fat around it. I’d already spent a chunk on the tuna, and I confess, I got cheap. Second, I put the marinade on the little gems as they were grilling. There was so much sugar in the marinade (a double-sweet teriyaki meant to offset the saltiness of the prosciutto), that it carbonized about as soon as it dripped onto the indoor grill. (I’m still paying for that one.)

Worst, though, I cooked the tuna all the way through. A slightly burned marinade atop now-solid ahi, it was too dry and chewy. They looked pretty, but we’ll be trying that one again.

Especially now that I know restraint when it comes to ahi.

Back to Whole Paycheck. I had decided on a one-dish meal of sliced seared ahi, atop a bed of complementary vegetables. The kernels of corn would be shaved off the cob and grilled on the stove. To round it out, I got sweet cherry tomatoes, which I would slice in half, and I needed one more thing for a complete balance of texture and flavor. To my surprise, it turned out to be cucumber.

At home, I minced a few cloves of garlic, threw it into the mortar with freshly cracked black peppercorns and crystals of natural sea salt, which Michael Chiarello also likes to swoon over. He’s an effusive guy, that Michael Chiarello. I’d pay to see him take down Nick Stellino on a television-cooking-show-host version of Iron Chef. I’d pay good.

I pounded them together in the mortar and rubbed it into the tuna on all sides. A little oil on the grill, and we were off. Fortunately, Sarah urged me to take it off the grill just at the right time. We had those nice grill marks, top and bottom of a crust of white, and still a middle of deep red. I cut it into quarter-inch slices and arranged them like a fanned wheel over the cool salad of tomatoes, cucumber, and grilled corn.

With all the windows open for one of our precious few summer evenings, Sarah and I enjoyed a delightfully light meal as twilight turned to night, each bite as charming as could be. It was, by turns, sweet and salty, soft and crunchy, delicate and bold, all in each mouthful.

Now, about that corn soup...

For the record, the recipe, generally (I put basil leaves on the tuna as it cooked, but I don’t think that did much, so I’m leaving it out):

Seared Ahi with Grilled Corn

1 T canola oil
2 ears of corn, kernels shaved off
1/2 lb. cherry tomatoes, sliced in half
I cucumber, peeled and thickly julienned
2/3 lb. ahi tuna, sushi quality
1 tsp. coarse unrefined sea salt
1 tsp. cracked black peppercorns
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 T extra virgin olive oil

Heat the canola oil in a sauté pan, and toast the corn in a single layer until lightly specked with brown, about 5-7 minutes. Leave in the pan to cool so it doesn’t get moist.

Grind the salt, pepper, and garlic together in a mortar so it makes a wet, grainy texture. Rub it all over the tuna.

I used an indoor grill, but a charcoal grill would add more dimension. Heat the grill. When grill is hot, rub it down with the olive oil. Sear the tuna on both sides, about 3 minutes a side or so. If the steak is about an 1 1/2 - 2 inches thick, it should be fully done about a quarter inch or so on top and bottom.

Mix the corn, tomatoes, and cucumber together on a serving dish. Cut the tuna steak into 1/4-inch slices and arrange on top of the vegetables. We ate from the same dish, but you can serve it on individual plates if you like.

Serves two with a little left over for indulgence.

Variations: I also considered mincing a bit of fresh basil and mixing that into the corn/tomato/cucumber salad, or alternately some avocado, but I didn’t. It might have been too much. It might not have been, though.