A Dear John letter to tuna

Question canI hate to say this after all we’ve been through, tuna, but I’m ending this.  We had some good times over the years and I’ll always remember my dad’s chipped tuna on toast. More recently, you’ve been there when I needed to spruce up a sandwich or some pasta.

But with all that I’ve learned recently about mercury, I just don’t know if I can trust you anymore. I thought maybe I could work through this. I checked with Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood WATCH to see if I was wrong, but it’s all so confusing. Are you albacore? Skipjack? Hawaiian? Longline? I don’t know you anymore. I don’t even know for sure what it all means!

For a while, I fooled myself. I told myself that “dolphin safe” meant that you must be safe for me too. There’s just no way of knowing.

I can’t do a long-distance relationship anymore. I can’t stand not knowing. I’m going to find a nice, local beef or chicken. I know it’s no tuna, but you just don’t fit in among these Hoosiers.

If you ever get your act together and can let go of these secrets, talk to me. In the meantime, I hear that Indiana now has prawns

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