How to Improve a Can of Tuna? Set It on Fire

A soldier shares how to make the most of rations

Shaul Armony
Published in
4 min readNov 1, 2019


All photos by Shaul Armony

Throughout my service in the Israel Defense Forces, I learned all sorts of skills that have been applicable to my everyday civilian life. I learned how to work efficiently under high stress, making studying for my general chemistry final feel manageable. I learned to appreciate and respect the opinions of others with whom I disagree, which helped me succeed in group projects at Columbia University. I learned the importance of organization, punctuality, and preparation, which proved invaluable as I worked in the demanding kitchen at Zahav in Philadelphia.

But the one skill that has served me the most thus far, and will no doubt continue to serve me well into the future? Burning tuna.

The food in the army was bad. Just plain and simple, bad. On base, a lone miserable cook was responsible for feeding around 100 starved and opinionated soldiers. Meals ranged from severely overcooked, underseasoned pasta to oven-baked, moth-crusted chicken breasts (true story). Occasionally, a cook would wake up on the right side of the bed and treat the base to “freshly made” (read: recently defrosted) schnitzel, a real delicacy compared to the regular menu.

Weeks in the field presented different gastronomic offerings. During long and arduous war-simulation weeks, we carried all of our gear, food, and water on our backs. “Food,” in this case, meant exactly two ingredients, hot dog buns and kabanos — a sort of sausage/Slim Jim hybrid. Needless to say, heartburn and constipation were serious issues.

Other, less intense weeks in the field involved boxes of combat rations. This shoebox-sized parcel, along with a loaf of bread, was calculated to feed 12 soldiers and usually included the following: 6 cans of tuna, one can of pickles, one can of beans, one can of corn, a can of fruit cocktail, and a bar of halva. Sometimes an item would be replaced by roasted peanuts (a true gem) or the risky, nuclear-green stuffed grape leaves. While these boxes of fun presented more options than our kabanos-filled days, after a while, tuna gets old. Real old.

The answer? Burn your tuna.