Simon's Famous Tuna Salad — The Recipe That Feeds You When Soup Isn’t Enough

Mother's Day and the news about Rachel and the book is a secret I have not yet shared with anyone except Rebecca, who called it "the most inevitable thing that has ever happened to you," which is high praise from a woman who believes in literary inevitability the way I believe in matzo ball fluffiness: absolutely, without compromise, as an article of faith. I will tell David. I will tell the grandchildren. I will not tell Marvin, not because the telling would be unkind but because the telling would not land, and the not-landing is the grief within the joy, the shadow inside the sunlight, the fact that the person who would have been most proud — the man who kept every card I ever wrote him in a folder labeled "Ruth" — cannot understand that Ruth is writing a book.

I brought Marvin soup for Mother's Day. Not brisket — soup. Chicken soup, the original, the Sylvia version. I fed him the soup and I said, "Happy Mother's Day to me, Marv. I'm writing a book. Your wife is writing a book." He ate the soup. He looked at me with the polite attention that is his default now. He said, "That's nice." That's nice. The two words that Marvin says about everything. And this time, just this once, I chose to hear them differently. I chose to hear them as Marvin — the real Marvin, the man underneath — saying: that's nice. My wife is writing a book. Of course she is. She's Ruth. She does everything. That's nice.

After I fed Marvin the soup and heard his “that’s nice,” I went home and made myself lunch — something nobody else requested, nobody else rated, nobody else needed a single spoonful of. Simon’s Famous Tuna Salad is that recipe for me: no ceremony, no audience, just good ingredients treated with respect. It is the recipe I make when I want to feed myself, the person writing the book, the person sitting with joy and grief at the same kitchen table. Rebecca would understand. Marvin would say it’s nice. And it is.

Simon’s Famous Tuna Salad

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

2 cans (5 oz each) solid white albacore tuna in water, drained well
3 tablespoons mayonnaise (or more to taste)
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 stalks celery, finely diced
2 tablespoons red onion, finely minced
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon capers, drained and roughly chopped (optional)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 tablespoon fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped (for garnish)

Instructions

Drain and flake. Open and drain both cans of tuna thoroughly, pressing out excess water with the can lid. Turn into a medium mixing bowl and flake gently with a fork — leave some texture; do not mash.
Build the dressing. Add the mayonnaise, Dijon mustard, and lemon juice directly to the tuna. Stir to combine, adding an extra spoonful of mayonnaise if you prefer a creamier consistency.
Add the vegetables. Fold in the diced celery, red onion, and capers if using. The celery is non-negotiable — it is what gives this salad its character.
Season carefully. Taste before salting, as canned tuna carries its own salt. Add black pepper generously. Adjust lemon juice and mustard to your preference.
Rest and serve. For best flavor, cover and refrigerate for 15 minutes before serving. Serve on toasted rye, over a bed of greens, or straight from the bowl with crackers. Garnish with fresh parsley.

Nutrition (per serving)

Simon's Famous Tuna Salad — The Recipe That Feeds You When Soup Isn’t Enough