Thick, lovely slabs of tuna.  Red and quivering,  glistening with a slick sheen of a soy marinade.  Seared with hot grill marks, cool and raw in the center, it fits perfectly under a moist tangle of slaw and a spongy brioche.   I wish lunch were always this perfect.


A fist-sized steak of fish carefully sliced into thin ruby strips, mounded onto a bed of crisply dressed carrots and cabbage and made to glow from the egg yolk dropped into the centre.  A capricious toss of black sesame for drama, a glass of champagne, just because.


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