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.
