Up for grabs is one (1) container of tuna salad and one (1) fork that my drummer left at my house a few weeks ago. Before you ask, yes, I attempted to return it. As a responsible steward of another man's meat product, I sampled it every 48 hours to monitor quality and ensure it remained fit for commerce. I can now confidently report that it has achieved Peak Saladacity.
Originally, I offered to mail it back to him if he'd split postage. He told me he'd settle up at the next practice. Since then, he's developed a fascinating inability to answer texts, calls, emails, carrier pigeons, or messages delivered via dream sequence. His loss is your gain.
This isn't your grocery-store tuna slurry. This is a handcrafted flavor experience featuring the precise ratio of yellowtail, cracked pepper, veganaise, hot mustard, celery, and several proprietary yet local ingredients. The result is a culinary event that begins in the mouth and quickly expands into neighboring zip codes.
The texture can only be described as "confident." The aroma arrives five minutes before the salad itself, allowing your senses time to prepare. Notes of maritime adventure mingle effortlessly with undertones of forgotten Tupperware and a finish that food critics would call "aggressively memorable."
I've had multiple opportunities to consume the remainder myself, but I believe some treasures belong in the hands of collectors. This is less a side dish and more a conversation piece. Guests will ask about it. Neighbors will discuss it. Local wildlife will acknowledge it from a respectful distance.
Ideal for:
* Tuna enthusiasts
* Historians
* Rhythm sectioneers
* Competitive deli mongers
No lowballers. No tire-kickers. No lab testing on site. Bring your own container if you plan to transport it; the current container has become emotionally attached to the salad and may resist separation.
Price is firm. I know what I've got.
Trades considered for vintage drum hardware, cursed antiques, or a reliable method of getting my drummer to answer his phone.