Tuna bg

Thunnus

Tuna is mackerel’s cousin – the cousin who grew to be bigger, race faster and smell more refined. From the subclan’s humblest member, the half-metre-long bullet that is mackerel’s nearest cognate, to the bluefin going for top dollar at Tokyo’s boisterous fish auctions, tuna, like mackerel, are Scombridae – as is the bonito, included here for ease of reference. Indeed, at the edges of the tuna constellation, identities become somewhat blurred. In some taxonomies, and particularly for commercial purposes, the bullet tuna is in fact a mackerel; while the bonito is, in effect, a tuna.

Present in various incarnations across fishing zones, tuna are apex predators. They feed on many fellow marine creatures, mackerel included; by contrast, few others feed on tuna. These hunters live long, swim fast and migrate far. Their muscular flesh runs to deep pinks and crimsons; the skin is like sun-baked aluminium, streaked with greyish blues.

Tuna are large – often very large – fish, which means they’re never eaten whole. Much as for the big land animals that form part of modern diets, cuts run the gamut of desirability. The marbled, exquisitely flavoured, fattier parts from the belly of the fish – known as ventresca in Italy and otoro in Japan – tend to be the most prized: they are to tuna what Kobe fillet is to beef.

Cuts aside, different species have different uses. Prices rise in line with prestige (though it’s fair to say these hierarchies have varied with the decades: as with lobster, for example, shifting fashions have moved erstwhile workaday species up the value chain). At entry level, we find the stuff that supplies most markets with canned tuna. Best friend to students, singles and Sunday cooks, this is generally the pale albacore in its superior version, and a slightly rougher, oilier skipjack at the more democratic end. Thailand is the world’s top canned tuna exporter, cranking out billions of dollars’ worth in 2020.

Yellowfin, the next step up on the marketing ladder, is a versatile fish, available as steak or sushi; bigeye tuna provides a higher grade of the latter. Both are known in Hawaii and the wider United States of America as ahi – and dominate the canned segment in Italy. Most exclusive of all is bluefin, whose lush, gamey flesh winds up as the choicest sashimi: here, the raw fish is given star billing, without the admixture of rice or vinegar. Japan alone concentrates four-fifths of the market.

With tuna being the highly migratory fish that they are, roaming across multiple jurisdictions, regional fisheries bodies have been set up to issue binding rules for sustainable management. Because of its premium appeal, bluefin has long concentrated efforts. Pacific Small Island Developing States (PSIDS), for example, have teamed up to cap fishing licenses. Meanwhile, “ranching” of bluefin – that is, catching young individuals and raising them in captivity – has been spreading since the early 1990s. Farming bluefin from eggs, long thought a technical impossibility, is also shaping up as a viable option.

Such practices have somewhat relieved pressure on wild stocks. In 2021, the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) declared Pacific bluefin “of least concern” (though still severely depleted, at less than 5 percent of its original biomass) and Atlantic bluefin “near-threatened” – an improvement for both. Southern bluefin is endangered, though no longer critically so. Overall, ethically minded buyers may wish to approach bluefin with a discerning mind.

Racers of the seas

Know
your fish

Wholesale buyers – or their agents – who purchase tuna off the boat will grade the catch along a scale running from 1 (highest) to 3 (lowest). Some systems have as many as eight steps, from minus 1 to 3 plus, with much nuance around the 2 mark. The grading is generally done by cutting crescent-shaped slivers from the tail end of the fish and extracting spindly “plugs” from its core. The slivers and plugs are then laid out in pairs (one sliver, one plug) on white Styrofoam and examined in natural light. Characteristics such as the degree of translucency, and the intensity and consistency of colour, are assessed. Graders will also look for any indication of “burn” from lactic acid or for evidence of disease, which can cause discolouring or make the flesh spongy to the touch. Much of this millimetric dance, not unlike the judging of a wine’s robe, will elude the untrained eye. As a retail buyer, canned tuna aside, you’re most likely to encounter slabs or chunks of yellowtail of varying quality. And even without a grader’s eye, there’s much you can tell. To start with, beware improbably low prices. Tuna is a costly fish – some estimates suggest it pulls in USD 40 billion globally, once all additions along the value chain are factored in – and thus prone to fraud and shady dealings. Also, mind the colour. In developed markets such as the European Union, artificial colouring is outlawed. Check for signs of lapsed freshness in the form of opaque spots or dull brown patches. In the European Union, as in all other cases for fish caught in the wild, the FAO fishing zone must be mentioned. Retailers should also make it clear if the tuna is fresh or previously frozen. In some countries, the grade will often be specified. If so, anything 2+ or finer should be a fair bet; the closer to 1, the more you can afford to have the fish very rare. Conversely, tuna offcuts may be had cheaply, especially at the end of market day. These are frequently streaked with hard white sinew, which is chewy and best avoided in anything approaching raw form. Save the offcuts for a stew. If your fish is labelled ahi, you may want to dig further. Bigeye is classified as vulnerable; yellowfin is not. If buying raw fish, you can sometimes tell yellowfin by the presence of a dark T-shaped bloodline. Finally, picking through your bluefin tuna is something of an ethical and epistemological tightrope. Pacific bluefin is now, broadly speaking, fair game. It’s also a vital source of income for a small nation such as the Marshall Islands, where a tenth of the workforce makes a living by fishing it. Atlantic bluefin is more fraught. While the threat to overall stocks has been downgraded, this is largely down to some recovery among Mediterranean populations; in the western Atlantic, the species remains endangered. To add to the complexity, mislabelling of bluefin is rife, and many restaurants still shun it.

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Tuna, fresh, yellowfin, raw per 100 grams
ENERGY (Kcal)
109
PROTEIN (g)
24.4
CALCIUM (Ca) (Mg)
4
IRON (Fe) (Mg)
0.8
ZINC (Zn) (Mg)
0.4
SELENIUM (SE) (μg)
91
VITAMIN A (RETINOL) (μg)
18
VITAMIN D3 (μg)
2
VITAMIN B12 (μg)
2.1
EPA (g)
0.012
DHA (g)
0.088

The interview Tuna

Bluefin tuna! Finally, we meet. It’s an honour.

Who? What? Who are you?

I sent you an interview request. You accepted.

Did I? Okay. I can’t stay long.

And this thermoregulation allows you to swim and hunt more efficiently, right?

Correct. I’m up to 15 °C warmer than the water around me.

Remarkable. I’d now like to broach the complex issue of your relationship with mackerel. In some ways, mackerel is part of your family…

Pfff… Impostor. There’s only one way to deal with it.

Which is?

Eat it.

Tuna
Oh? I’m sorry that you’re in such a hurry.

Yes. Always. I have to keep moving. They’ve said about me that I’m all heart. It’s almost true: my heart is vast. Needs constant pumping. I never rest. If I stop, no oxygen for me.

I see. I think some sharks are like that too. And I’m told there’s also something called countercurrent exchange. Would you care to explain?

It’s an instance of rete mirabile, or “wonderful net”. It’s like this: I have two bloodstreams. My blood flows in opposing directions. But these bloodstreams intersect. They exchange heat. This elevates my body temperature.

Ahem… All right. Yes, I suppose we all do. But we eat you too.

No comment.

Okay, I respect that. Looking back, I may not have had answers to all my questions, but writing this book has been immensely instructive.

Good. Send me an autographed copy. I must dash now.