Thanks to all of you for your touching and wonderful comments on Wednesday’s post about my dad.  It’s trite to say they all meant a lot to me, but they really, truly do.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled business…  of foodery.  For someone in a supposed cooking rut, I sure have talked a lot about food lately.

This week’s British Nostalgia Invasion is brought to you courtesy of my little sister Baby Bel, who left last Monday for a semester of study abroad in Manchester.  I am so happy for her… and so jealous that she gets to have her British adventure in kickin’ Manchester, unlike her older sister, who spent four years in hell-hole Coventry (haven’t heard of it?  Of course not; there’s no reason to).

Anyway, the thought of Baby Bel in England brought to mind the single defining British meal of my time in Britain.   You thought I’d say fish and chips or curry, right?

Nope.  It’s the lunchtime classic jacket potato.

Picture this. It’s the day after your girl arrived in Britain (a car ride, a plane ride, two expensive taxi rides, and a train ride to get there in 36 hours counting the layovers). She’s horrified at the dinginess of Coventry despite coming from dingiest Buffalo, she’s got a ball of frizz on her head (and realizing that she’ll be growing her spiky, choppy short hair to handle the frizz better), she’s hungry because she was too homesick and tired to eat her takout curry with a teaspoon last night (who knew you didn’t get cutlery with your takeout?), and she’s frozen because she gave up trying to get the hot water to work (she hasn’t found the switch in the kitchen, yet) and washed in cold water.

She rocks up to campus while her husband is at an orientation for fellow terrified PhD students and walks around for a bit before settling down for lunch.  She gets a sandwich (which is slathered with margarine–ew, she has yet to learn), and a yogurt, and a coffee, and sits down to watch her new world go by.  She spots a group of students lunching on something mysterious.  Curious, she gets up with the pretext of tossing her empty containers out (but really she just wants to take a look).  She focuses her eyes, she sees what it is that they’re eating…

And she tries not to puke.  They’re eating baked potatoes with coleslaw, baked beans, and tuna salad in the middle, each stuffing taking up one third of the massive potato (though still managing to meld into the other stuffing).  They seem to be enjoying it.  Short of horse meat, she has never been so disgusted.  She notes what she’s seen in her handy notebook, jotting down the time and date, and wonders that the British are weirder than she thought they were.

Fast forward one year… and your girl has fallen in love with jacket potatoes stuffed with tuna salad.  She can tell you that it’s even better when the tuna salad has canned corn (though not when it has red onions, too), and that you HAVE to sprinkle lots of black pepper on it, and that the green salad next to it is at its best with a light shake of olive oil and vinegar.  She can also tell you that this will put you to sleep (though less than if you had it with baked beans and cheese), and that this might be responsible for half the weight she gained while in Britain.  But she’ll also tell you that, when faced with British food, the jacket potato is a life saver.

And I can tell you now that, when I’m sick or just REALLY hungry, this is what I most want to eat.

So, there’s three very easy parts to this, for which you’ll need:

• One potato, baked (either in the oven for however long that takes or in the microwave, on medium, for about 15 minutes, in the case of my microwave and my usual potatoes)
• One can of tuna chunks in water, drained
• A big spoonful of mayo (I use low-fat) and mustard (I use regular yellow, but spicy mustard is good, too)
• An optional spoonful of each of the following: celery, canned or frozen and defrosted corn, green onion
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Handful of lettuce
• One small tomato
• Cucumber, green pepper, carrot, green onion–you know, simple salad fixings
• Olive oil and vinegar–splashes

Then you put it together in T-minus five minutes:

• Mix the tuna, mayo, mustard, and optional vegetables.
• Slice the potato in half, put some tuna mix in the middle (I usually end up using half), sprinkle with black pepper.
• Arrange your salad fixings on half of a bowl, then drizzle with olive oil and vinegar and toss.
• Ceremoniously place your potato in the bowl, say a toast to the Queen’s health, and eat.

I used to think this meal was a nutritionally-deficient bomb and, when your potato is the size of your head and the tuna has full-fat mayo only, it is.  However, when your potato is reasonably-sized (I like mine smaller than my fist), the tuna has light light-mayo and mustard, and the salad is substantial and full of vegetables, this is a fairly nutritious comfort meal that covers your complex carbohydrate, protein, good fats, and vegetable needs nicely.  You could even substitute yogurt for the mayo, which I would do if I could eat dairy.

And let me tell you, nothing makes me happier on long-run days than this lunch.  Apart from sleeping on a bed of doughy bread, that is.