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Tuna Tartare —rsquo; The Composed Bowl, Right When Everything Feels Layered

Principal Engineer. The title arrived in my inbox on Tuesday morning like a package I had ordered six months ago and forgotten about. "Congratulations on your promotion to Principal Engineer, Alexa Smart Home Division." There was a team announcement. There were congratulations in Slack. My manager, Derek, took me to lunch at a sushi place near the office and said, "You've earned this, Stephanie. You're one of the strongest technical minds on the floor." I smiled. I ate salmon nigiri. I thought about the fact that I am ten weeks pregnant and did not tell him.

The promotion is real and significant — Principal Engineer is one of the highest individual contributor roles at Amazon. The compensation is substantial. The stock grant is generous. The responsibility is enormous. And I feel — I feel like a person who has been given a beautiful coat in the wrong season. The coat is well-made. The coat fits. But it is August and I am warm and I do not need a coat right now. What I need is a kitchen and a baby and a company that ships Korean food in boxes. What I need is already in my life and the coat does not fit over it.

I told James about the promotion on Tuesday evening. He said, "Congratulations." Then he said, "How do you feel?" I said, "Complicated." He said, "Because Amazon or because timing?" I said, "Both. I just got the biggest promotion of my career and all I can think about is whether the baby can hear my voice yet." He said, "The baby cannot hear your voice yet. The baby is the size of a prune." I said, "A prune." He said, "The app says prune." I looked at the app. It did say prune. My child is a prune. I have been promoted to Principal Engineer while growing a prune. This is my life.

Dr. Yoon on Monday — I told her about the impending promotion (I had known it was coming). She said, "You are building a career and a family and a company simultaneously. How does that feel?" I said, "Like juggling while running while pregnant." She said, "What would you drop?" I said, without hesitation, "Amazon." She noted this. She did not comment further. The noting was the comment.

Banchan Labs: the subscription model launch is five weeks away. James has built the entire payment and fulfillment system. I have finalized September's recipe collection — four cards focused on Korean basics: perfect rice, basic kimchi, doenjang jjigae, and bibimbap. The subscription will ship the first week of each month. 2,000 subscribers for the initial launch. The waitlist is at 9,100. We are going to cap the first month and expand from there. Slow growth. Intentional growth. Grace-approved growth.

Karen is stable this month. The new medication combination is working. She had David drive her to a bookstore on Saturday, which she had not done in weeks. She bought three mystery novels. David reported this to me as though it were a medical breakthrough: "She bought three books, Steph. Three." The bar for celebration is lower now. A trip to a bookstore is a victory. We celebrate the victories we are given.

The recipe this week is a simple bibimbap — the mixed rice bowl that is going on the September subscription card. Steamed rice in a bowl. Topped with seasoned spinach, seasoned bean sprouts, seasoned carrots, seasoned zucchini, kimchi, a fried egg, and a generous spoonful of gochujang. Mix everything together before eating. The bowl should be chaotic and colorful and taste like Korea in a single bite. Bibimbap means "mixed rice." It means: take everything you have and combine it. The combination is the dish. The combination is the life.

The bibimbap card is written and locked for September — that one belongs to the subscribers — but the idea of a carefully composed bowl kept following me around all week, especially after lunch with Derek and the salmon nigiri I ate while holding a secret the size of a prune. This tuna tartare is what I made at home on Wednesday night: every element placed with intention, nothing buried, everything visible on the plate. It is the kind of dish that asks you to slow down and layer things carefully, which felt exactly right for a week when I needed to remember that complicated and good are not opposites.

Tuna Tartare

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 20 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 lb sushi-grade ahi tuna, finely diced into 1/4-inch cubes
  • 1 ripe avocado, diced
  • 2 tbsp soy sauce (low-sodium preferred)
  • 1 tbsp toasted sesame oil
  • 1 tsp fresh ginger, finely grated
  • 1 tsp sriracha or gochujang
  • 1 tbsp fresh lime juice, divided
  • 3 green onions, thinly sliced (white and green parts separated)
  • 1 tbsp toasted sesame seeds
  • 1 tsp rice vinegar
  • Flaky sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper, to taste
  • Wonton crisps or cucumber rounds, for serving

Instructions

  1. Chill your tools. Place your cutting board and mixing bowl in the refrigerator for 10 minutes before starting. Cold equipment keeps sushi-grade fish at a safe temperature and improves texture.
  2. Dice the tuna. Using a sharp knife, cut the tuna into uniform 1/4-inch cubes. Work quickly and return to the refrigerator if the fish begins to warm.
  3. Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, sesame oil, grated ginger, sriracha or gochujang, rice vinegar, and 1/2 tbsp of the lime juice until fully combined.
  4. Dress the tuna. In the chilled mixing bowl, gently toss the diced tuna with the dressing and the white parts of the green onions. Season lightly with black pepper. Taste before adding salt — the soy sauce carries most of the salinity.
  5. Prepare the avocado. Toss the diced avocado with the remaining 1/2 tbsp lime juice to prevent browning and brighten the flavor.
  6. Assemble the tartare. Spoon the avocado into the base of a shallow bowl or ring mold. Layer the dressed tuna on top, pressing gently to compact. If plating freeform, simply spoon the tuna over the avocado and let the layers show at the edges.
  7. Garnish and serve immediately. Top with toasted sesame seeds, the green parts of the green onions, and a pinch of flaky sea salt. Serve at once alongside wonton crisps or cucumber rounds. Tartare does not hold — assemble only when ready to eat.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 215 | Protein: 27g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 5g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 490mg

Stephanie Park
About the cook who shared this
Stephanie Park
Week 387 of Stephanie’s 30-year story · Seattle, Washington
Stephanie is a software engineer in Seattle, a new mom, and a Korean-American adoptee who spent twenty-five years not knowing where she came from. She was adopted as an infant by a white family in Bellevue who loved her completely and never cooked Korean food. At twenty-eight, she found her birth mother in Busan — and then she found herself in a kitchen, crying over her first homemade kimchi jjigae, because some things your body remembers even when your mind doesn't.

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