[Thanks, everyone, for your patience while my blog was undergoing some changes. They're all done now--and I'm happy to offer you all a "print recipe" button so you don't have to copy and paste any more! There are also more user-friendly subscribe buttons and comment threads. What do you think of them? And thanks again for all the great work, Alvin!]
One of the cardinal rules when throwing a dinner party is “don’t serve your guests a recipe you’ve never made before.” (Also, “don’t wear white when you’ll be cooking with beets”; “don’t seat ex-spouses next to each other at the table”; “don’t make Baked Alaska in July”; and “don’t leave the house without clean underwear”–oh, wait, that’s a different cardinal rule).
This past Saturday evening, I had the pleasure of cooking dinner for my friend Eternal Optimist and her friend. So what do you suppose I did, friends? Yep, exactly that; I served up something I had never made before. I wasn’t truly cheating on the rule, though, since I’d already cooked and eaten each of the dish’s components individually and knew they were, on their own, spectacular.
What did I serve? Why, the old classic: that Romance-infused, saucy, cheesy, meaty, stratified seductress, lasagna.
For the most part, I’m a pretty lazy cook. I prefer meals that are ready before I can say, “Elsie and Chaser, get out of the kitchen,” and I don’t enjoy multiple steps or extremely detailed instructions. Desserts and cooking for others is the exception, however.
When I used to throw a bazillion dinner parties during my Social Thirties, I’d spend almost the entire weekend cooking and didn’t mind a bit. Getting lost in the whir of the electric beaters as I whipped cream for a multi-layered meringue-and-buttercream affair, or methodically chopping six onions for various dishes, or zoning out to the crackling sizzle of veggies sautéeing always felt therapeutic to me. And while I’m not keen on lengthy preparation during the regular work week, when I whip up a special-request meal for the HH (for his birthday, or to say thanks for walking the dogs twice a day when my back is out, or to show my appreciation when he picks up baking ingredients from my favorite supplier, or to express gratitude for cleaning the house when friends are coming over–whoah, wait a sec, that HH sure does do a lot for me!), well, then a longer and more complicated process is even welcomed.
I’ll tell you straight off the bat, this lasagna falls into the “food-of-many-components” category. It’s not difficult per se, but it does contain many layers, and each layer requires its own prep. If you happen to have prepared marinara sauce at the ready (or a good jarred type you like), prepared pesto, and meat in the freezer, then you can throw it together in no time, and there’s no worr–
WHAT?!!
Did I just say, “MEAT”???!!!!
Now, now, calm down, people! It may look like meat, and it may taste like meat, but it is not meat. It is faux meat. This latest meaty substitute is just SO authentic, both in look and in flavor, that I simply forgot to specify–it’s entirely vegan! And SOY-FREE!
After creating a killer soy-free faux pepperoni a while back, I’ve been thinking about other ways to use vegetable bases to stand in for meat. It’s not that I’ve hopped on the “soy-is-no-good-soy-is-awful-soy-is-the-Lucifer-of-legumes” bandwagon or anything; it’s just that, sometimes, you want something that isn’t soy. Especially with this lasagna (since it already contains tofu in the ricotta cheese), I wanted a no-soy “ground beef.” And so, this ground meat was born.
When I served the HH a big hunk of the lasagna, his immediate response was, “Ths turstes jess lak urrglrr lrzgne.” (He was so impressed he forgot to swallow before speaking). To translate, “This tastes just like regular lasagna.” Whoopee! Considering that he consumes “regular” lasagna about once a month, his was high praise, indeed.
I’m incredibly pleased with this vegan meat, and am already dreaming up different uses for it. Scattered on nachos. Bound together with some flax eggs and cooked as burgers. Atop a huge mound of spaghetti arrabiata. Or even as the base in a vegan tortiere, like so:
The possibilities are endless. . . my head is spinning with dinner party plans already. Because, after all, the true cardinal rule is this: if it tastes great, eat it.
“Mum, are you sure that isn’t real meat? We’d be happy to help you taste-test your recipes. As you know, the cardinal rule for canines is, ‘if it’s not poisonous, eat it.’ Oh, wait, we might eat it anyway, even when it is poisonous. But don’t worry, I won’t go near that chocolate again.”
This recipe is my submission this week to Amy’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays event. Head on over to see what other healthy dishes are posted!
Meaty Spinach Pesto Lasagna (ACD Stage 2 and beyond)
A great dish to serve to friends and really impress those meat-eaters. Because the cheese mixture in this recipe was soy-based, I was pleased that the meat was based primarily on a veggie. Make a huge batch so that you can freeze the leftovers and enjoy another lasagna-based meal later on, without all the prep.
8-12 sheets lasagna, parboiled for 5 minutes (I used Tinkyada rice lasagna)
1 recipe tofu ricotta (I used the recipe from Cozy Inside; you could also use this one)
about 5 cups (1200 ml) homemade or prepared marinara sauce (for ACD, be sure it doesn’t contain sugar)
1 batch Spinach Pesto (recipe follows)
1 batch ground “meat’ (recipe follows).
Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Grease a 9 inch (22.5 cm) square pan and 8 inch (20 cm) loaf pan. (If you have a larger pan that equals the same area, please feel free to use it instead of two separate pans).
In a medium-sized bowl, fold the cheese and pesto together, just enough to combine (I left a few blobs of pesto visible here and there–you can mix it in completely if you wish). Set aside.
Line up the different ingredients so they’re ready to go, assembly-line style.
Cover the bottom of each pan with one layer of lasagna noodles. If necessary, overlap the noodles, but no more than 1/4 inch (.5 cm) to fit them into the pans (I broke them into smaller pieces to accomplish this).
Measure out about 1-1/2 cups (360 ml) of the sauce and set aside.
Using the remainder of the sauce, spoon a thick layer of sauce over the noodles in each pan (I used about 3/4 cup/180ml for the loaf, 1 cup/240 ml for the square pan). No noodles should be visible.
Divide the cheese mixture in half. Using one half of the cheese mixture, sprinkle it evenly over the sauce in each of the pans (I used about 2/3 of one half to cover the square pan, and 1/3 of one half to cover the loaf–in other words, 1/3 of the total in the square pan and 1/6 of the total in the loaf pan).
Divide the meat mixture in half. Using one half of the meat mixture, sprinkle it evenly over the cheese in each of the pans (I used about 2/3 of one half to cover the square pan, and 1/3 of one half to cover the loaf–in other words, 1/3 of the total in the square pan and 1/6 of the total in the loaf pan).
Repeat the layers one more time, using up all the cheese and meat. Cover with one more layer of noodles, then coat with the reserved sauce.
Bake in preheated oven for 45-60 minutes, until bubbly and browned on the edges. Remove from oven and allow to set for at least 15 minutes before cutting into squares. Makes 8-10 servings. May be frozen.
Spinach Pesto:
1 cup (240 ml) lightly packed fresh basil leaves
1/2 cup (120 ml) lightly toasted walnut halves and/or pine nuts (I used a combination)
2 large cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 cup (120 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1 bunch (about 1/2 pound or 230 g) fresh spinach, trimmed and washed (stems included)
Combine all ingredients in a food processor until smooth. Use as is or mix with ricotta cheese. Will keep, covered, in refrigerator up to 3 days. May be frozen.
Meaty Veg-Based Ground “Meat”:
1 medium head cauliflower, trimmed and washed, broken into florets (about 1 pound/450 g after trimming)
2 cups (250 g) raw walnut halves
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
2 cloves garlic, minced, or 1tsp (5 ml) garlic powder
1/4 tsp (1 ml) dried sage
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) smoked paprika
1 tsp (5 ml) liquid smoke (for ACD Stage 1, use more smoked paprika)
1/2-3/4 tsp (2.5-3.5 ml) fine sea salt, to taste
2 Tbsp (30 ml) Bragg’s liquid aminos, soy sauce, or tamari (ACD Stage 1 use Bragg’s only)–omit for an entirely soy-free “meat”
Preheat oven to 350 F (180C). Line a large rimmed cookie sheet or rectangular pan with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a food processor, blend the cauliflower and nuts to a fine meal. Depending on how grainy you like your “meat,” it can be more or less fine; I made mine like a coarse cornmeal.
Transfer the mixture to a large bowl and add remaining ingredients.
Using your (clean) hands, knead everything together thoroughly, until the grounds are uniformly coated.
Turn the mixture into the pan and spread out evenly. Bake for 45 minutes and up to 1 hour 15 minutes (it will depend on the size of the pan and how thick the mixture is when you first begin to bake it), stirring after 30 minutes and then every 15 minutes after that, until the meat is dry and brown (if the layer underneath comes up looking wet and white–as cauliflower tends to do–then you need to keep baking). The grounds will begin to separate and intensify in color as they roast.
Once the meat is cooked, you can cool, package, and freeze it for later use, or use it right away. Will keep, up to 3 days, covered in the refrigerator. May be frozen.
The past couple of weeks have been beyond hectic here at the DDD household, what with a surprise party (at my place) for my office mate; a wedding shower (no, not mine–okay, breathe normally now); two new courses to prepare for my return to teaching next week (what?? Seriously, is my vacation over already?); and some heavy-duty baking from Sweet Freedomso I could deliver samples to a slew of people. Not to mention the energy it took to get over my excitement at having Ellen read my cookbook!**
With all this frenzied activity, I haven’t had a huge amount of time for cooking–at least, cooking anything that takes up more time than your standard elevator pitch. I searched through my mental archives for quick, easy recipes–and then I remembered Leticia.
Leticia (well, actually, I don’t remember her real name, but I do know it was seemed somewhat exotic to me at the time, and it started with “L” and ended with “A”), was a fellow don in residence when I was there during my PhD years. And who knows more about the ins and outs of “quick and easy” food than students living in residence over the long and lonely summer months?
Leticia (or was it Lydia?) was a new-agey, hip and–to my mind–somewhat radical young woman. One evening as we sat out enjoying the summer air on the residence balcony, she casually revealed to me that she’d once married another student during her undergraduate years, simply to help him avoid deportation. Wow! How daring! How outré! How anti-establishment! How illegal!
I was in awe of her.
Lydia (or Leora) was tall and thin as bullrushes, with thick, frazzled brown hair that seemed to be suspended around her square face like a floating birds’ nest, its stray strands protruding at erratic angles. She had a tendency to wear loose cotton dresses that were either tie-dyed or hand-painted, sporting faded splotches of color like an artist’s smock that had been bleached over and over. Leora (Larissa?) actually had a very pretty face, with large, heavy-lidded eyes and Angelina Jolie lips. And when Larissa (or Lorena) spoke, it was in a low, deep whisper like an FM radio announcer, as if she’d just unearthed a scandalous childhood secret.
Because of her Italian background, Lorena/Ludmilla informed me, she was an expert on pasta. One evening, when the two of us roamed the otherwise empty corridors in the residence hall, she invited me to share her pasta carbonara. I was entranced by how quickly it came together: she boiled the pasta, tossed it with a couple of beaten eggs and threw in crumbled bacon that had been fried as the pasta boiled. The final touch was a handful of green peas; the entire dish was then topped with grated parmesan cheese and a liberal grinding of black pepper. I was amazed at how creamy the eggy sauce was, and how well the smoky bacon complemented the almost-instant satiny coating.
Never mind that I don’t eat bacon any more; the idea of eating raw egg (the heat of the pasta supposedly flash-cooks it) is, to my current-day digestive system, repulsive. But the ease of preparation, the creamy-and-smoky texture and flavor combination–well, those still appeal. Big time.
So I set about finding recipes for pasta carbonara that I could adapt to my current dietary limitationss. And you know what? Not one of them contained peas! I’m not sure if the peas were Latoya’s own addition or if they were generated by my imagination, but I couldn’t conceive of the dish without them. So my version may not be conventional–but then again, neither was Lillianna.
After examining various other vegan pasta carbonara recipes, from Vegan Dad’s coconut-milk based to Urban Vegan’s with white wine to a more conventional recipe, I decided to go with my gut and create my own soy-free, wine-less version. I still wanted the sauce to be creamy and eggy (but without any resemblance to raw eggs). For the bacon, I adapted the tempeh recipe from Vegan with a Vengeance to create a super-quick, non-marinated version; and since I loved Loretta”s original creation so much, I retained the peas in the mix.
The result was a silky smooth sauce infused with a hint of smokiness from the bacon and a surprise burst of sweetness on occasion from the peas. As is our wont when I cook a vegan main course, the HH and I sat down to individual plates so he could doctor his up with something more animal-centric. With the the tub of parmesan by his side–something he perfunctorily dusts on every pasta dish I make–he decided to taste the pasta first, au naturel.
Slowly, he chewed, moving the penne around in his mouth, carefully assessing the flavor. He swallowed.
“You know,” he said, “it doesn’t actually need the cheese. I’m just going to eat it like this.”
It doesn’t need the cheese! He ate it just like that! TRIUMPH!
So we ate the pasta carbonara, the HH and I, both equally happy with its warm, filling, flavorful sauce and meaty, smoky bits of tempeh bacon. As he cleaned his plate, the HH pronounced, “I don’t think you could improve on this with anything.” (I nearly fainted.) ”It’s perfect as it is.” Well, knock me over with a feather! (Okay, it would have to be a pewter statue of a feather, because, as we all know, an actual feather would have no impact on me whatsoever. . .but whatever).
If you’re looking for a quick and delicious weekday dinner and feel like some pasta, give this a try. In no time, you’ll have a dinner that’s not only toothsome, but slightly unconventional and really hip, too. Like Lucinda. Or Leticia. Or whoever she was.
** (The quest continues–so please feel free to let Ellen know if you’d like to see me on the show! You will win a free copy of Sweet Freedom if I’m on! Click here to send her a comment about how talented and witty I am. Oh, and what a good cook, too. )
New Age Pasta Carbonara (ACD-friendly, Phase II and beyond)
When you feel like something substantial but don’t have the time, try this quick and easy sauce. If you’re too rushed to make tempeh bacon, you can use diced smoked tofu, or your favorite brand of prepared “bacon”.
5-10 drops liquid stevia, to your taste (don’t overdo the sweetness in these)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1/2 cup (120 ml) water
For the pasta and sauce:
–enough of your favorite pasta for 4 servings, dry (I used brown rice penne)
1 recipe of your favorite tempeh bacon (see above)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) smooth natural cashew butter
1 Tbsp (15 ml) white miso
1 Tbsp (15 ml) tahini (sesame paste)
1/4 tsp (1 ml) dijon mustard
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 tsp (2. 5 ml) turmeric
pinch nutmeg
fine sea salt and pepper, to taste
1 cup soy or almond milk
1 cup (240 ml) vegetable broth or stock
2 Tbsp (30 ml) potato or arrowroot starch
1/2 cup (120 ml) fresh or frozen peas (no need to defrost if frozen)
3 Tbsp (45 ml) chopped fresh parsley
Prepare the bacon: cut the tempeh into strips as thin as you can manage (I got 15 strips). In a large frying pan, mix together the remaining ingredients. Add the tempeh and turn each strip over a few times to coat it in the sauce.
Turn on heat to medium-low and cook the strips for about 5 minutes until the sauce has begun to evaporate and the bottoms are browned; turn the strips and continue to cook the other side, pushing the bacon back and forth occasionally to prevent sticking, until the liquid ingredients have been absorbed and the bacon is browned and crisp on the outside, another 5-10 minutes. If the liquid is absorbed too quickly, add a little more water, as needed. Turn off heat and set aside.
Prepare the pasta: Set your water boiling in a large pot. Cook the pasta according to package directions.
Meanwhile, prepare the sauce: In a medium pot, whisk together the cashew butter, miso, tahini, mustard, garlic, turmeric, nutmeg, salt and pepper until smooth. Very slowly, whisk in the almond milk, a little at a time, until the mixture is smooth and well combined. Add the vegetable broth and mix again.
Place the potato starch in a small bowl. Add about 1/3 cup (80 ml) of the liquid mixture and whisk until smooth; slowly add this to the liquid in the pot. Heat the mixture in the pot over medium-low heat, stirring constantly, until it begins to bubble; cook for about a minute more, stirring constantly, until the mixture is thick and creamy. If the pasta isn’t yet ready, turn off the heat and cover the pot.
Once the pasta is ready, drain it and reserve about 1/2 cup (120 ml) pasta water. Add the pasta to the sauce pot along with the tempeh and peas and continue to cook over low heat, stirring occasionally, until everything is warmed through, about 10 minutes. If the sauce becomes too dry during this time, add the reserved pasta water (if the sauce remains smooth and doesn’t dry out, you can discard the pasta water). Sprinkle with fresh parsley and serve. Makes 4 servings.
I can hardly believe it, but today is the HH and my thirteenth anniversary! And to think they said it would never last! Of course, when we met, we were just love-struck kidsa one-night standriding the subway two jaded divorcés who thought they’d never again find love.
And yet, here we are. And get a load of our conversation earlier this morning:
Ricki and the HH marvel at 13 years together (which is about 11 more years than Ellen and Portia). The HH gets ready to shave for work while Ricki brushes her teeth.
HH: You know, I had to buy this new razor yesterday. I had a two-blader, and now they only come with three blades or more.
Okay, I suppose there is something a little bit special about walking around with a cellular makeup that developed entirely while I’ve been living with the HH (and the same for him). And if cells renew themselves every seven years in dogs, too, that means Elsie really is “our” dog now (though Chaser still has a ways to go).
“Mum, that is ageism, don’t you think? I mean, it’s not my fault I’m only three years old tomorrow. And what’s up with an April 7th birthday, anyway? It’s always overshadowed by your darn anniversary.”
Well, if red is the color of passion, then perhaps these beet burgers can inject an extra shot of romance into our relationship on this special day. Not only that, they’re also the perfect recipe to introduce a new blog event hosted by Kim of Affairs of Living and me–the Sweet or Savory (SOS) Kitchen Challenge!
Following a special diet–whether because of allergies or other conditions–can sometimes feel like an insurmountable challenge. As two people who’ve both been following a special diet for some time, Kim and I understand how important it is to find delicious, appealing recipes to keep you motivated and committed when you’ve cut out certain ingredients from your diet, whether because of allergies or other conditions.
That’s why we’ve teamed up to offer the SOS Kitchen Challenge blog event! The SOS Kitchen Challenge invites you to create delicious dishes based on one key ingredient each time. You can choose either sweet or savory dishes (or both) for the event. At the end of the month, Kim and I will gather all the submissions and post them in a roundup on both our blogs—so your recipe will get double the exposure! The resulting roundup will offer a single stop where health-conscious readers can find a collection of yummy dishes to try.
Help us showcase how tantalizing and delectable healthy foods can be!
For our first challenge, our star ingredient is. . . . BEETS!
You may have noticed how much I adore beets, from salads to faux pepperoni and even a dessert. A much-loved vegetable in both our kitchens, beets are a star in the veggie universe as well: besides tasting great, they’re packed with minerals like manganese, potassium, magnesium and iron, are a great source of the B Vitamin folate, and actually help boost liver function. They contain cancer-fighting antioxidants, help prevent heart disease and reduce inflammation in the body. They’re a great source of fiber and can promote regularity. And they might just introduce a little extra passion to your mealtime.
To participate in the challenge, simply cook up a recipe using beets (beetroots, beet greens, yellow beets, red beets, or any kind of beet you like); the beets can be raw or cooked in either a sweet or savory recipe. There are loads of possibilities—salads, soups, main dishes, baked goods, even a beet-and-bean chili or a mousse!
Then, post the recipe to your blog. Of course, you can still participate even if you don’t have a blog! (For full guidelines and how to participate, see the main SOS Kitchen Challenge page). Be sure to mention the event on your post and link to this SOS page. Also, feel free to use the SOS logo in your post to help promote the event, though this is not required. Deadline is April 20th–after which we’ll both be posting the roundup on our blogs. Full details here. You can also find all the information on Kim’s SOS page.
We look forward to sharing yummy beet-based recipes with you! To start us off, I thought I’d submit this savory, yet slightly sweet, beet burger.
I got the idea for these burgers when Kim mentioned “beetloaf” one day on twitter. I do enjoy savory loaves (such as nutroasts), but wanted something that would cook up a bit faster and perhaps go well in a sandwich (since I seem to be on a sandwich kick these days). After a couple of false starts (I guess there is such a thing as “too much beet”), I came up with this version: browned and barely crispy on the outside, still moist on the inside, with a naturally smoky flavor and sweet undertones. These patties make a great main dish served alongside your favorite vegetable or even a creamy pasta.
I imagined a burger that tasted hearty without being too heavy or too earthy because of the beets. The pairing of buckwheat and beets accomplishes this goal admirably; these are a mild burger, yet one that is–dare I say it–meaty enough to really satisfy.
1/2 cup (120 ml) buckwheat, dry
1-1/3 cups (320 ml) vegetable broth of stock
1-1/2 cups (235 g) brazil nuts (or use walnuts or pecans, or a mix)
1/2 cup (50 g) whole old-fashioned rolled oats (not instant or quick cook)
1/4 cup (30 g) finely ground flax seeds
5-1/2 ounces (150 g) cooked*, peeled beets (3-4 small beets)
1/2 medium red pepper, chopped
1/4 cup (60 ml) parsley, chopped
3/4 tsp (3.5 ml) fennel
1 tsp (5 ml) ground mustard
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) fine sea salt
up to 1/2 cup (120 ml) additional vegetable broth or stock, as needed
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Line a cookie sheet with parchment, or spray with nonstick spray.
In a small pot, bring the 1-1/3 cups (320 ml) vegetable stock to a boil; add the buckwheat, cover, lower heat and simmer for about 15 minutes, until all the liquid is absorbed. Remove the cover, fluff with a fork, and allow to cool.
In the bowl of a food processor, process the nuts, flax and oats to the texture of a coarse meal. Add the beets, pepper, parsley, fennel, mustard and salt and process until almost smooth, yet still grainy.
Using a large ice cream scoop or 1/3 cup (80 ml) measuring cup, scoop out the mixture and flatten to patties about 1/2 inch (1 cm) thick. Bake in preheated oven 25 minutes, then gently turn over and return to oven for another 15-25 minutes, until the burgers are crisp on the edges. Serve plain or in buns. These go well with avocado mayonnaise or fresh and spicy cilantro sauce (both of these condiments will create a cool red-and-green Christmas vibe with the burgers, too). Makes 8-10 burgers. May be frozen.
* I bake the beets because I prefer the flavor and find they are a bit dryer that way, so the burgers will hold together better. If you boil the beets instead, you might like to reduce the vegetable broth by 2-4 Tbsp (30-60 ml).
[I thought it would be fun to run a little series over here at DDD: I'll profile one one of my favorite foods, or a food that I've recently discovered and enjoyed, over several days. For this fifth edition, I'm focusing on cilantro. The series is presented on an occasional (and entirely arbitrary) basis, before I move on to the next lucky comestible. This is the second entry on cilantro.]
*I originally thought about calling this post, “First Love Three Ways,” but I can only imagine the kinds of search terms that would generate for my blog!
What woman doesn’t remember her first love? Me, I remember my first cookbook.**
Now, don’t get me wrong–of course I remember my first love, too. I met Spaghetti Ears (not his real name***) the summer before I embarked on my Master’s degree, when I was about twenty two. Yes, I was a late bloomer. Okay, I was a really late bloomer. I was a ridiculously late bloomer. A ”So-glad-You-Finally-Made-it-We’ve Already-Finished Dinner-and-the-Dishes-Are-in-the-Dishwasher,” ”Sorry-You’ve-Missed-Your-Appointment-the-Doctor-is-Leaving-Now-and-I’ll-Have-to-Reschedule-You,” “Honey-I’m-Three-Weeks-Overdue-Would-You-Run-to-the-Drugstore-and-buy-a-First-Response-Kit “ kind of late bloomer.
Nevertheless, it was worth the wait. Spaghetti Ears was, truly, an ideal first boyfriend. Smart and funny, sweet and kind, loving and gentle, he was the type of guy who’d draw sappy birthday cards by hand, fill shoe boxes with rose petals to strew across the bed for your anniversary, tell you he loved you at least once a day or buy you opal earrings that, while beautiful, were beyond his budget, just because they were your birthstone and they would look lovely resting on your earlobes. (Hmmm. . . wait a second. . . you mean I broke up with this guy? Was I nuts, or what?)
And now, all these years later, I never even have to wonder what’s become of him, since we’re still friends. We email each other on birthdays and get together for an annual celebratory lunch. He tells me about his work and regales me with proud Papa stories, while I recount stories about The Girls’ antics and other events at the DDD household. (Oh, and sorry, ladies, he’s happily married). Apart from a few more laugh lines and gray hairs, Spaghetti Ears is pretty much the same guy today as he was when we dated.
My first cookbook, on the other hand, is in much worse shape than when we first met. (It’s my fault entirely. I just couldn’t keep my hands off it).
I acquired my first “real” cookbook well into my twenties (told you I was a late bloomer!). When I rented my first apartment on my own, my initial impulse was to think about how I’d furnish it. Oh, no, not with furniture, silly (though of course I’d get some of that, too). I wanted to furnish it with cookbooks, the kitchen being the core and most important room in the place.
Having almost no disposable income at the time, I opted for the Doubleday Book Club, where you could order 9 books for $1.00 (then, you needed only purchase 4 more books at regular Doubleday prices–plus shipping and handling–over the next two years!). I ticked off names based on titles I’d heard or was only vaguely familiar with, such as The Joy of Cooking (I was lucky enough to get mine before the travesty of a second version hit the stands); Maida Heatter’s Great American Desserts(she remains an idol of mine); or the original Moosewood Cookbook, in all its handwritten glory, words and illustrations by the multi-talented Mollie Katzen.
How I loved my Moosewood book! In those first days of breathless infatuation, I tried as many recipes as I could, and always turned to my Moosewood before any other. I made Katzen’s Carrot Loaf (really more like a casserole) more times than I can remember. The cookbook also supplied my introduction to hummus, gazpacho, tabbouleh, plus a host of other wonderful recipes. My love for anything Moosewood was ignited with that seminal tome and never waned. In fact, my dream of dining at the original Moosewood Restaurant was finally realized a few years ago when the HH and I dropped in several times during a stop in Ithaca on our way to Boston.
Fast forward to my first encounter with the ACD ten years ago, when I was desperately seeking recipes that were both tasty and complied with my dietary restrictions. Well, I turned to my beloved once again. This Lemony Baked Tofu from The Moosewood Restaurant New Classicsfit the bill perfectly, and it was the first tofu dish I truly adored. Made with fresh, simple ingredients, the offbeat combination of cilantro, lemon, and jalapeno is transformative here. The acidity of the lemon is tempered during baking so that the final result isn’t the least bit sour; the cilantro also loses a bit of its perfumed quality in the oven, creating a heady mix that’s intensely flavored with spice and just enough camarelization to confer a touch of sweetness.
While it’s incredibly simple to make (I just whizz everything in the food processor) and there are certainly more elaborate or trendy interpretations of tofu around these days (tofuomelets? tofu scallops? tofu ricotta?), I still love this tofu hot as a main course, cold in sandwiches or wraps, or on its own as an afternoon snack (a few slices have also served as breakfast on occasi0n, alongside home fries). Even when the HH went through his “NO-fu” stage and refused to eat most of my standard tofu-based dishes, he would still enjoy slabs of this baked tofu paired with veggies or pasta.
I’ve tried literally dozens of other tofu recipes since then, but this has remained a steadfast favorite. In a way, you might even say that this tofu is yet another one of my first loves. Unlike the human variety, however (and even after ten years together), this recipe remains consistently lovable, has never let me down and can always make me happy, every time I take a bite.
**My first kiss was another story altogether. I was about 15 and, as I recall, one of us was wearing a retainer at the time. I won’t say who.
***That was his actual pet name. Mine was Melon Head. Ah, the quirky charm of young love!
Remarkably versatile, this dish can be eaten plain, in sandwiches or pasta, or any other way you fancy. If you’re not a fan of cilantro, try it with parsley, basil, or even dill–though I’d cut the amount of jalapeno in those cases.
1 cake firm or extra firm tofu (about 1 pound/500 g)
1/2-1 fresh jalapeno pepper, to your taste (remove seeds for less heat)
1/3 cup (80 ml) chopped fresh cilantro (leaves and small stems)
1/2 small onion, roughly chopped, or 1 scallion, roughly chopped
1/4 cup (60 ml) fresh lemon juice
2 Tbsp (30 ml) tamari or soy sauce (for ACD Stage 1, use Bragg’s liquid aminos)
3 Tbsp (45 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) agave nectar or organic sugar
1/4 tsp (1 ml) freshly ground pepper
1/2 cup (120 ml) water
Preheat oven to 400F (200C). Spray a nonreactive pan (glass or ceramic) with nonstick spray.
Cut the block of tofu into 10-12 small slabs or 4 thin “steaks.” Set aside.
In the bowl of a food processor, process the jalapeno, cilantro, onion, lemon juice, tamari, olive oil, agave and pepper until smooth. Add the water and process briefly to combine.
Pour about half the marinade in the bottom of the prepared pan and spread to coat the pan. Place the tofu slabs evenly on top of the marinade (try to keep them in a single layer) and pour the rest of the marinade evenly over them. It’s okay if one or two slabs must be doubled up; just pour a little marinade between them as well.
Bake for 45-60 minutes, turning the tofu over once about halfway through. The baked tofu should be browned and bubbling, and there should be almost no liquid left in the pan. Remove to a platter and serve. Makes 4 servings. Will keep, covered in the refrigerator, up to 5 days (as with many tofu dishes, this is actually better the second day).
ACD variation: omit tamari and use Bragg’s aminos instead; omit agave and use 2 drops stevia or equivalent stevia powder.
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