Chip-Crusted Tuna Patties with Sriracha Mayo

In a small bowl, combine the mayonnaise and sriracha. Squeeze in the juice from half the lemon and whisk until smooth and glossy. Taste and adjust—add more sriracha if you want it meaner, more lemon if you need brightness. Set aside for the table.

Cut the remaining lemon half into wedges for serving. This sauce needs backup.

Drain the canned tuna really well—squeeze it in a paper towel if you have to. Nobody wants a soggy patty. Fish it into a large mixing bowl.

Add the egg, finely diced yellow onion, breadcrumbs, salt, and black pepper to the bowl. Get your hands in there and mix until everything is just combined. Don't overwork it or your patties will be tough.

Shape the mixture into 6-8 equal patties, about 2 inches wide and half an inch thick. They should hold together but feel tender. If they feel too wet, add another tablespoon of breadcrumbs.

Crack the egg for the breading into a shallow dish and beat it with a fork until smooth.

Pour the extra breadcrumbs onto a plate or shallow dish. Season them with a pinch of salt and a tiny bit of black pepper—give that crust flavor too.

Dip each patty first into the beaten egg, letting any excess drip off, then press firmly into the breadcrumbs. Flip and coat the other side. Get full coverage—this is your crunch armor.

Heat the sunflower oil in a large frying pan over medium-high heat to 350-375°F (175-190°C). You want it hot but not smoking—a flick of water should sizzle and dance.

Carefully lay the patties in the pan—don't crowd them. Cook for 3-4 minutes per side until the crust is deep golden brown and the interior is heated through.

Flip once and only once. Press them gently with your spatula to ensure even contact with the pan. When they're gorgeous and crunchy, transfer to a paper towel-lined plate to drain.

Plate the patties while they're hot and the crust is still singing. Add a generous dollop of sriracha mayo alongside or drizzle it right over the top—your call, your table.

Garnish with fresh parsley if you're feeling fancy, and don't forget the lemon wedges. The acid cuts right through the richness. This is Darnell's luxury trash doing what it does best—taking something humble and making it undeniable.