"I have a surprise for you," my Ama, my father's mother, told me. "Very special surprise."
I nodded.
"I brought you some tuna fish!"
I blinked. "Er... thank you. Tuna fish?"
"Special tuna fish. From Henry Sy."[0]
"Why... do you have Henry Sy's tuna fish?"
"It is very special. They make it just for him. And we are good friends, so he gave some to me. And I bring it to the States. I give a can for Jason, a can for Michael, a can for Mark, and one for you." She pulled out a blue can and presented it to me with great pride. "See? Specially prepared for Henry Sy Sr. and Family."

I read the can, still puzzled. "'The true choice of gourmets.' Do they do anything special to the tuna fish? I mean, is it..."
"This is premium tuna fish. Made from prime cuts." My grandmother points to the can's label, which does indeed say "...made from the prime cuts of rare young Yellowfin Tuna. Delicate, smooth and tasty..." I have a sudden urge to grab a pen and add the missing comma.
"What do I do with it?"
My grandmother laughed, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. "You eat it!"

Well, okay. That was obvious.

I brought the can to Boston with me and recounted the story to my aunt Lynne May. Then I cooked some spaghetti and poured the oil-packed fish over it; it was packed as an actual whole filet (not ragged clumps), beautifully cooked, perfectly seasoned. The fish flaked beautifully over the pasta, and the oil was subtly spiced. It was a perfect dinner.

I didn't feel right just recycling the can, so I photographed it in commemoration first. (And then I recycled it.) Thank you, Ama.

[0] Henry Sy is a Chinese-Filipino tycoon who owns the mega-mall brand SM (Shoe Mart, which is what they originally sold). I guess the American equivalent would be something like "I have Sam Walton's tuna fish!" and your grandmother being friends with the fellow who founded Wal-Mart, or... yeah. Honestly, I'm also a bit confused.